Music and other Gifts

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Simon is teaching me music. I suppose that, technically, he is teaching me guitar, but his gift is so much more than that.

I love music. I am never in my home without music playing. It has always been this way. All creative pursuits touch me. I remember going to MOMA in Seattle when the Van Gogh exhibit came through. I stood in front of “Starry Night” and wept. Beauty: the soul of the man was in that painting.

And so it is with music, writing, art – I don’t believe it is possible for an artist to create something without putting his (her) heart into it.

Music moves me in ways no other art does. It makes my soul sing – and the song echoes the melody of the earth and the stars.

When I asked Simon to teach me, I asked him to teach me music. The guitar is the vehicle – but somehow, he knew exactly what I meant. He is teaching me music. His love – his passion – I am bathed in it as he teaches me. How that makes me feel is almost indescribable. I feel like Keats (On First Looking Into Chapman’s Homer)

“Then I felt like some watcher of the skies when a new planet swims into his ken.”

Music is my new planet. Not just to understand it and be able to play a chord (or 2 or 3) but to understand the passion behind music – Simon conveys that to me and it takes my breath away. Of course, there’s more than that too: I am awestruck by his ability, his talent – and I’m happy to understand music just a bit more; to share it just a bit more; and to learn – a new world is opening up to me. It’s such an immense world. I am daunted by the challenge, but willing to embrace it because it gives me such joy.

And something else: I talked about fear the other day. I hit another fear point yesterday. My “old” way of handling something that really scares me in a relationship is to look at the emotion and then look at the logic and try to reason it away. After all, my mind says, this is my problem; I can handle it on my own. I can squash this fear and never speak of it. I can work it out completely on my own. The real motivation for not speaking was the fear of how my partner would react if I revealed my fears. He would reject me, be angry with me, think less of me, stop loving me. (yes, those were the voices in my head).

And yes, I as afraid when I voiced my fears to Simon. And then he gave me the greatest gift: he listened; he accepted; he understood; he continued to love me. And, as easily as that, my fear dissipated.

I suspect I will have to continue to be brave. And I will be. This, what we have, is far too precious to me to jeopardize it in any way.

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