I chose to be here alone. This path into the woods. Losing, breaking, rebuilding, listening, singing.
The beauty of the mountains, the rain, the music, the people, the life is crushing me and lifting me out of my isloation at the same time. I live. I die. And I live again.
Last night, in my moon-unit tent, the monsoon was epic. The Catskills are lush and magestic. I am sober and steady. Feeling the ache and aloneliness through every cell in my heart. Even as I rejoice in this place and the pause I have created.
What can you do? Your kid is struggling. You give them advice, they go in the opposite direction. You must let go. Look after your own spiritual urgency. A song unlocks a deeper pain. So many losses. So much love and compassion for myself. This is the lesson. I am here. I am seeking god. Asking tiny sparks of hope to surround my boy. As I wish only for release for myself.
A book today, uncorked the tears. Magic. I am feeling deeper. Seeking community of sounds and notes. Seeking human connections. Finding others longing for meaning as well. Here we are, together on this spinning rock, together in our lifted voices, a collective of musicians. Sending prayers to each other and up into space without light.
The void is speaking to my son. I stand against that isolation by offering a guitar and a voice. He is no longer listening. My tribe in the mountains are appreciative. Joy is infectious. Winding our way into each other’s lives in song.
No other place to be. No motions I have not taken.
At this moment alone and never alone. I curl around myself. Sitting outside the circle for a minute or two. A lovely woman strikes up a conversation. “I’m not a musician, I’m a plus one.” We talk of David Gilmour and our journeys to this moment. Another man joins in and brings Pink Floyd. She saw Pompei live. We become a chorus of affinities. A light broadcast from a gallaxy nearby wraps me warmly in YES. In LOVE. In music.
We are speaking and singing at the same time.
*My qualifier* as we say will find his own way. Even his new sponsor cannot course correct an unwilling pilot. We surround and breathe as best we can. Mom is pulling it together day by day as well.
Love is coursing through us. Right now, my son may not feel me. This too is as it should be. WE are in the exact right place.
Karma Police will be my show tonight at midnight. A singer. Stand and deliver. We may sing it together someday in the near future.
All is well.
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