The past few days, I have been at a loss. The sight of fall turning towards winter accompanied by an increasing chill in the air. The world, our neighbors seemingly devoid in many places of humanity. Personally, I received news of an indefinite separation from my voice teacher due to a personal crisis in her life.
How quickly what we know as routine comforts can be lost. The feelings of warmth and the brightness of color. A friendly voice in conversation or in song that plays on repeat in our minds now contemplated only through small empty spaces.
I seek to find a patient resolve that there is undiscovered wisdom in change, that there is no weakness in questioning the present journey and its destination. Tonight, I revisited the beginning of my journey “finding voice” via an old poem of mine, and through these words of the past am reminded of the many ways to seek out completeness, as the teacher and as the student.
Voice Lessons (written September 24, 2014)
In pictures I teach the students about
the apple tree and what it learns
about its own life
that blossoms will
come upon spring and the lush green
bursts of foliage will cover its upper
body in summer
and that soon—at now
the fruits of summer life will step forth
in memories as round and as crisp as orbs
that lie loose on the lines of its branches.
How proper that on these days I
become that tree. I become the fall
and its memories. Its pages that when dropped
can be scattered in words
and propelled from the mouths of babes
their flavorful sweet songs
the melodies and their company
which serve to warm us on the coming winter days.
Below is what incompleteness sounds like. I grieve the loss of my teacher. Her echoes are now empty spaces in this verse of the classic, Natural Woman.
Tomorrow we have no choice but to accept the change we cannot control. Standing erect with the fullness of that apple tree. Harvest time.