listening to the organ in First Church Cambridge
poem found in the church
the sun beginning its slow descent, in a Brookline neighborhood
Listening to my friend practice organ at First Church. Hear this piece by Saint-Saens be embraced by quiet at the end.

After a week without much recorded music, I am so alive to the sound of the organ. I weep at the majesty into which I’m folded. I lie on the floor and let the vibrations wash over. And I journal:

What happens when I realize that all I have longed for all along, I already have? The love and acceptance of God.

My life is music. I am being converted from “music is my life,” to “my life is music.” From clinging and holding on, to trying to discover and unwrap this gift slowly, the one in the dream (a dream from awhile back wherein I was gifted with music).

This church feels so welcoming, and being embraced by the sound of the organ is like a big embrace by Music herself. The Singer or the Song?

I feel God inviting me to recover ‘The Want:’ to want myself.

Birds calling me to pause and listen on my afternoon walk.

A listening walk around my ‘big neighborhood block’ to process a beautiful conversation I had about living quietly. See some reflections on my Sabbath project interviews in the final post featured on this page, “Sabbath Postlude.”

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