The only moment we were alone.

It always comes as an understatement: Music is powerful. I seem to be reminded of this most of all when I listen to something instrumental. As someone who loves language, writing, and words, I look for the lyrics first in a song. The lyrics are a big deal to me. They need to be clever. Whatever words are used, they need to be clever. And there's no limit to how this can be done. I've heard songs with short and simple repetitive words, and I've heard songs with phrases and words I've never heard of or would never think to put together, and they all are brilliantly written. It's not the words that are used, it's how they're arranged. If I can predict the next line in the song, it's usually a poorly written one. I love lyrics.

But without the lyrics, the song still stands. It's the instrumental stuff that pierces me because sometimes it's not about words. Sometimes I just need to shut up. One of my favortite stories (probably made up, who knows) was about Beethoven going to visit a friend mouring the death of a loved one. Beethoven never spoke a word at this visit. He simply went to his friend's piano, played a song, and left. The friend said he received more comfort from that visit than from anyone else's.

On Sunday mornings I have a brilliant and talented group to lead me in worship. They know and love their music. Sometimes, my worship leader can go a whole song without ever opening his eyes. That's power. To be taken somewhere else entirely by an arrangement of sounds. Music is powerful. Beautiful. When you see someone that lost, the words don't matter anymore. Perhaps even the music doesn't matter anymore. It's all been blended into a collection of somethings that takes you ...... somewhere. And you're lost. But right where God wants you. I'm listening to Explosions in the Sky right now and I gotta say, it does a pretty good job of clearing my head. That's nice at the end of the day. It wouldn't work if the song was cluttered with words which would only clutter my mind more.

So many of my greatest blessings were experienced with music in the starring role. Tonight at our Christmas service, our worship leader played my favorite worship song. It wasn't planned, it was the last one, and I never hear anyone do it in church anymore. I usually have to sing it to myself to hear it. But God can do anything. For me. On the way back to my house on July 27, 2009, I was stuck in a traffic jam. Never think your day can't get any worse. Sitting in a daze of hardest loss I've encountered, what should come on the radio station that rarely comes in? That song where every word and sound matches your every thought and feeling at that time. Because God can do anything. For me.

"Music is a fair and glorious gift of God," a random piece of wood on a wall once said. Indeed.
"We'll sing and dance in heaven," Grandma once said. I sure hope so. Because I think "pretty music" is in the definition of heaven somewhere. Along with "smells like chocolate chip cookies" and "Bekah will finally be able to play the violin."

And so the warmth and fragrance fade as the mug empties for my consumption.

Sand castles have been on my brain recently. As I spent Sunday afternoon by the ocean and created a few things with my creativity, I began to ponder why I bother. Sometimes I feel as if all my actions are merely sand castles waiting to be trampled by other feet or just nature herself.

My actions are impermanent. And it doesn't matter where I work. I could work with stone or rock, but water will eventually corrode that as well. All material actions mean something for a while, but time always destroys gradually the effect of such effort.

So I try not to be materialistic. All my clothes will wear out. All my cleaning will be uncleaned. And my skin will not always be so smooth. So my energies should be spent on words and music and food and homemade salsa with fresh celantro and lime juice and jalepenos and sweet onions and mmmmm......

Every time I spend money on something for pure enjoyment, I have to try not to regret it. I've never been in trouble, so I shouldn't stress too much about it. But I always feel like I could have not spent it. But at the same time, I don't want to turn down all invitations and lose friends so I can save ALL my monies to do something absolutely spectacular by myself because I have no friends. But I haven't been doing that either. So I guess I'm okay and ranting for nothing.

Why do I worry... I've added nothing to my life. If anything I feel like I've shortened it because I wasted time. How about I not do that anymore?

I'm currently reading James Patterson's When the Wind Blows and listening to Rosi Golan.

Also I have a Harry Potter snuggie. I know you're jealous.

Cinnamon sticks.

My new favorite music for rainy days is Rosi Golan and the Dan in Real Life soundtrack. Just listen to it, and you'll want to do nothing but lay on the couch and sip coffee while you stare out the window. I promise.

Rainy days can become boring. But I've learned how to knit, and that's taken up much of my time for the day. And don't bother with the old lady jokes, I've heard them all. I even sat in a rocking chair with a lap blanket while I worked on my scarf today. Also I have a stack of books that are needing to be read by me this Christmas vacation, so I guess I'll just say bring on the rainy days! just don't flood my driveway, please.

Time to reflect, as that is what rain does when it keeps us inside. So far no new reflections have surfaced. I wish so-and-so were still here. I wonder how things would be different if such-and-such happened. I should have done this-and-this differently.
And then there's the constant in the back of my head: Be better.

It's quite tiring. Always having to be better. I know God doesn't want to leave me the way I am, but sometimes I wish he'd just back off. Can I just be messed up for a while? It's such hard work having to be better. But then time goes by and I realize that I haven't done any work. And I'm still not better. So I really shouldn't complain about having to work so hard because I haven't.

Oh God make me better.

And my room smells like cinnamon because my Secret Santa friend gave me a broom so I can finally play Quidditch! And it smells like cinnamon. Perfect! Because it isn't Christmas unless life smells like cinnamon. I mean that. It is an established fact. A fact established by me.

Done rambling. So all I have to say is please stop and smell the cinnamon. Please just sit by your window and stare at the rain. Please don't rush anywhere, and take your time with your coffee.

I've decided POA is one of my favorites. After HBP.

And then that might change after Deathly Hallows. I'm talking about the movies, not the books. Actually I think it's the same with the books. So nevermind. Also, my dog will be named Harry Potter. Yes, I am pulling a Lorelai. Also, also, what is up with Ron's wardrobe in POA?

In other news, I've finally started watching True Blood at the urging of the coffee girl.

. . . um . . .

That's all I have to say about the show so far.

Speaking of Louisiana, I'd really like to go to New Orleans. SO if someone knows someone that would let me stay there for free so I can explore Cajun country, that would be awesome. I love French and Frenchish things. I'll be in France in a year to get the French things, so I just need a trip to New Orleans to get the Frenchish things.

Meanwhile, I'm having a fascination with Bohemian and Romani cultures. I don't know why, but something attracts me to these simple and unattached lifestyles. And yet, in it's unattachedness, there's strong ties among those in the culture. Besides that, they all just look so cool! And those Roma people have pretty skin. Maybe I'll find me one and I can have pretty skinned babies. I think what I love, though, is the unconventional lifestyle.
Honestly, I don't know how well I'd adjust. I do love the idea of being untied, and I already have the free spirit part down, but I like to have some conventionality. Obedience is necessary for anyone to live. And yet perhaps that isn't even an issue. Because, even if one is disobedient to one authority, it's because they're being obedient to another. There is always something or someone we're going to follow. So really, no one can accuse them of being disobedient to authority because they are being obedient to their own laws. SO THERE.

And I'm on Twitter. I don't know. You should follow me. I'd post a link but I don't know how.
Oh yeah that reminds me of what else I wanted to say! I'd like to be more computer savvy. I should make a list of all the things I want to do, and maybe I'll have a friend who will show me all those things and when I get rich, I'll buy an island and name it after them. Maybe. If so, I can move to LiveJournal and do more things.

And since I can't seem to find a "listening to" or "currently watching" thingie on here I'll just tell you I'm listening to the Hush Sound and watching Prisoner of Azkaban and I'm not reading anything. Oh yeah that reminds me of what else what else I wanted to say!

Christmas break projects 2009:

• learn to knit and make Gryffindor scarf
• read lots of things
• road trip
• be lazy
• and look awesome doing it

Ok I think that's all. For real. I love all you peoples.