Saturday, August 13, 2011

familiar roads

I have a friend who loves music.  And I enjoy watching music wash over him, how it changes his expression.  Even listening to what he deems "not good" music, I watch his brow slightly furrow as he contemplates each piece of a song's musical puzzle.  After careful inspection, he eases into the mysterious relationship between harmony, melody, dynamics, lyrics, and reality.  Now his shoulders slacken, the corners of his eyes droop and we both know he is awash in a Greater Than.  As he descends into this sub-reality, the Spirit in the music draws his Spirit out of him.  Like particles of limestone washing into the Mississippi River, I see elements of his self suspended in the air, mingling with that which is Greater Than.  Somewhere in that dance, his soul alights.  It soars.

When he catches me staring at him (which I could do for hours), he cocks his head to the right and raises his left eyebrow, wondering at his return to this extraordinarily grounded planet.

It is in the presence of music that he loses himself in order to find himself.  For his sake, I wish he could stay there.

This is what long distance cycling is to me.  I embark on a trip hesitantly, worrying that if I lose myself, I might never come back.

In what or where do you lose yourself?  Do you find yourself there?

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