p.s. I'm grateful for my two children who are playing upstairs (without me).
Friday, November 20, 2015
Before I had children music was one of my great loves. When I was in high school I was obsessed with Pearl Jam, finding bootleg concert CDs in Oxford, England and pushing my way into its mosh pit in Charlotte. Every season of my life is marked by a song or two, and when I hear the particular song, I'm taken back so quickly. In the last three years, I guess I just haven't found the space to explore and enjoy new artists (or even old ones). Last Saturday night my husband and I went to a concert of an artist I had never even heard of until recently. I had only listened to one song pre-concert, so I did not really know what to expect. And wow, it was like rediscovering a part of myself. For almost two hours I sat still and just listened. My favorite song of the night was called "Dancing in the Minefields," and it was the most perfect picture of marriage. I cried. I've never cried the first time I have heard a song, but Andrew Peterson nailed it in this song. It was beautiful to hear my feelings so aptly described in music. And that's a big part of music--hearing your feelings or experience described and shared by another person.