Sparks will fly #42 #ephemeral

Katoomba has been my home for the past week and with 54 others we shared our lives, played and made music together. Each precious moment, each breath lasting just as long as it needs to last. To live completely in the now, to understand and live, as if for just for one day, to squeeze the life out of each moment and infuse each moment with life, starts with the act of taking a deep breath. You turn up, body and spirit, you open your heart, your ears, your lungs in that order. There is no voice without feeling and listening.

To live on earth, as it is in heaven is surely to live with all the harmonies and each person finding their own note. We will have conductors and guides to help us sound better, take more risks with ourselves and those who will invite us to go to new horizons because they can see something in us we can’t yet. These are some of the many lessons singing in choir gives me – and singing as an Ephemeral Choir – and the lesson I seem to need learn over and over is being in the moment, living the now, is writ large.

This has not been an easy week waiting for the days and nights to tick over into the second anniversary of my love’s death. I spent the dreaded day surrounded by beauty, in song and in a space where love and compassion were the only currencies being traded. Giving grief an ephemeral nature allows it to come and go, to swell and subside, to flow over rocks and through caves. There are days where you find depths in the shallows, in little pools there can be rivers of pain and sadness. Equally, the quietest smile across a room from a friend can ooze just the right amount of love you need at that moment. More than once I recalled the line from Mary Oliver’s poem The Summer Day:

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

To live with a plan and act as if there isn’t one, capturing the moment as a complete and never to be repeated experience, is also the practice of living life with all the lights on the stage not in rehearsal mode. The discipline of living in an ephemeral way is quite a challenge. Plumbing the inner silence for courage and unlimited access to the well of peace, is the call, time and time again. I need to get my breathing right in order to be up to the response. Singing reminds me how to breathe and helps me to accept the invitation of sounds and silence. The spaces between the notes are just as important.

I am heading back to Adelaide, borrowing other people’s roofs to put my head under for awhile. I am returning to communities in which I work and play. The pilgrim or perhaps it is a swaggies life I am walking, continues.

There is a litany of gratitude for all the visible and invisible help that has accompanied me and enabled me to be in these spaces. I am grateful to the generosity and abundance of this precious life I live. I know sparks fly in caves, in song and can be found in the pounding hearts of lovers of the ephemeral life.

Sun set over the Blue Mountains.

3 thoughts on “Sparks will fly #42 #ephemeral

  1. memethorne

    Moira your quiet strength and generous soul are beacons that shine in stormy seas. Thankyou for sharing some of your liminal spaces with me.
    Your courage and commitment to living fully in the moment are eloquent examples of the beautiful art of Kintsugi. Golden Joinery. Golden Repair.
    ’As a philosophy, treating breakage and repair as part of the history of an object, rather than something to disguise.’
    You are pure Gold to me.
    πŸ™

    Reply

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