The Song of Your Life

Good Morning Everyone,

Everyone has a song within them. The song of their
life, the song of hopes, dreams, failures, hurt and pain.
We sing it whether we know it or not.

Some of the sweetest songs ever composed came
out of great pain and suffering and turned into a revelation
in the heart of those going through that suffering.

Some of the sweetest melodies birds sing are sung
in the night watches. The song of a mockingbird
is beautiful, and they usually sing the most beautifully
in the darkness. A nightingale is said to have the
sweetest melody known to man, and usually sings
during the night hours, a sweet sad melody that
seems born out of sadness. But beautiful enough
to inspire many people to write poems about their song.
Magnificent in beauty, a melody born out of dark moments.

I think many of the times I am most troubled and lay
wakeful I turn it into a prayer. And when the presence
of the Lord ministers to me and comforts me that
all shall be well, and I am not alone, I feel the song
come forth in my spirit even though I have many troubles
to deal with. It is sweet but sad, but hopeful.
How can all these things exist in the human spirit
at the same time?

Because we are many faceted, not even fully
understanding our own emotions. We do understand
our failures and flaws.. and when we address them,
and address our troubles and work on them
and talk to God, it becomes a song of triumph.

Because we have gone through the valley
and entered the mountain of rest and found sustenance.

Sing, sing a song
Sing out loud
Sing out strong
Sing of good things not bad
Sing of happy not sad.

Sing, sing a song
Make it simple to last
Your whole life long
Don't worry that it's not
Good enough for anyone
Else to hear
Just sing, sing a song.

Sing, sing a song
Let the world sing along
Sing of love there could be
Sing for you and for me.

Sing, sing a song
Make it simple to last
Your whole life long
Don't worry that it's not
Good enough for anyone
Else to hear
Just sing, sing a song.

written by Joe Raposo.

My friends, no matter your circumstances, your life
can still be a song. Multi faceted, joyful, sad, triumphant,
resplendant with experience and wisdom.

Make it a song that all can hear, and sing it with
spirit and vitality. Your life is a gift.. treat it that way.

love
millie

Yet the Lord will command His loving-kindness
in the daytime, and in the night His song shall be with me,
a prayer to the God of my life.
Psalm 42:8

Receive his song my friend, he is waiting to bless
you, sustain you, and guide you.

*******************************************


THREE STRINGS

On Nov. 18, 1995, Itzhak Perlman, the violinist, came on stage to give a concert at Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center in New York City. If you have ever been to a Perlman concert, you know that getting on stage is no small achievement for him. He was stricken with polio as a child, and so he has braces on both legs and walks with the aid of two crutches.
To see him walk across the stage one step at a time, painfully and slowly, is an unforgettable sight. He walks painfully, yet majestically, until he reaches his chair. Then he sits down, slowly, puts his crutches on the floor, undoes the clasps on his legs, tucks one foot back and extends the other foot forward. Then he bends down and picks up the violin, puts it under his chin, nods to the conductor and proceeds to play.
By now, the audience is used to this ritual. They sit quietly while he makes his way across the stage to his chair. They remain reverently silent while he undoes the clasps on his legs. They wait until he is ready to play.

But this time, something went wrong. Just as he finished the first few bars, one of the strings on his violin broke. You could hear it snap -- it went off like gunfire across the room. There was no mistaking what that sound meant. There was no mistaking what he had to do.

People who were there that night thought to themselves: "We figured that he would have to get up, put on the clasps again, pick up the crutches and limp his way off stage -- to either find another violin or else find another string for this one."

But he didn't. Instead, he waited a moment, closed his eyes and then signaled the conductor to begin again. The orchestra began, and he played from where he had left off. And he played with such passion and such power and such purity as they had never heard before. Of course, anyone knows that it is impossible to play a symphonic work with just three strings. I know that, and you know that, but that night Itzhak Perlman refused to know that.

You could see him modulating, changing, recomposing the piece in his head. At one point, it sounded like he was de-tuning the strings to get new sounds from them that they had never made before.

When he finished, there was an awesome silence in the room. And then people rose and cheered. There was an extraordinary outburst of applause from every corner of the auditorium. We were all on our feet, screaming and cheering, doing everything we could to show how much we appreciated what he had done.

He smiled, wiped the sweat from his brow, raised his bow to quiet us, and then he said, not boastfully, but in a quiet, pensive, reverent tone, "You know, sometimes it is the artist's task to find out how much music you can still make with what you have left."
What a powerful line that is. It has stayed in my mind ever since I heard it. And who knows? Perhaps that is the [way] of life - not just for artists, but for all of us.

So, perhaps our task in this shaky, fast-changing, bewildering world in which we live is to make music, at first with all that we have, and then, when that is no longer possible, to make music with what we have left.
By Jack Riemer