Harmonic Convergence

Every once in a while I have one of those perfect moments when music combines with place to make an unforgettable connection with my emotions, leaving me somewhat sad, but overwhelmingly peaceful.

One occurred about 8 years ago. I had just broken off another awful dating relationship and had taken a day to just think and be quiet at the Huntington Library and Gardens. That is one of my very favorite places on the planet, because between the tea house, gift shop, sprawling gardens, magnificent old house and priceless art, it's one of those places that distills all that is good and beautiful into a few acres of calm in the midst of unrelenting urban sprawl. I had sat on the grass, journal and book in hand, and looked at the flowers and trees until my skin bore the unmistakable traces of sun and my lungs almost tired of breathing unsullied air. I walked out to my car as the sun began to set, and I felt lighter and more hopeful than I had felt in a long time. I climbed into the stiffling warmth of the Oldsmobile boat I drove at the time, and as I blasted the air conditioning, I also turned on the radio. A classical station was playing Barber's Adagio for strings, one of the most beautiful and passionate pieces of music I have ever heard. The strings climb gently to a swelling crescendo, and with, the golden orange rays of the evening sun spilling over me, I felt the full impact of the music, as I never have outside of that context.


I had another moment last night. The circumstances were more ordinary. We had nearly run out of cat food, and I had to run off to Trader Joe's before it closed. I had been working like crazy for days, and only with great force of will have I been able to still my mind enough to sleep. I've been jittery and anxious and anything but peaceful. Even a walk down a previously undiscovered nature trail near our house hadn't calmed me enough that my mind could stop its frenetic spinning. It was dark when I left home, and still darker when I headed back home again, 36 cans of cat food and select vegetarian packaged foods in tow. I found myself traveling a deserted stretch of highway 55. There were no lights, save the distant tail-lights of a fellow traveler, so all that greeted me ahead and behind were the black outlines of freshly-leaved trees against a background of dark gray night sky. It was peaceful, so incredibly peaceful, and on the radio came a song that, for me, wraps up all of the nostalgia of home and loss and all of the memories that we store up in our hearts--the things and people and places that shape us.


I think these moments must be gifts. I cherish them.

... we carry every sadness with us

Every hour our hearts were broken

Every night the fear and darkness

Lay down with us


But I am holding half an acre

Torn from the map of Michigan

I am carrying this scrap of paper


That can crack the darkest sky wide open

Every burden taken from me

Every night my heart unfolding

My home


Somehow, wherever I am when I hear this song, I feel at home. Last night was no exception. What a lovely place to call home.