Sunday’s prelude

A pile of (clean) clothes sits on my bed. It’s been shifted from my chair to the bed, back to chair and then to bed at least three times this week, as a clear sign of denial. Shoes are scattered all over, my drumsticks, resuscitated from the past, lingering around and the floor in need of some serious sweeping.

 I’m normally a rather ordered person but at times there is no time for such a commodity. At times even time is a commodity! or at least I delude myself thinking so. It might help fight back the ever present guilt result of the notion I simply don’t administer it well.And here is why, ready?

I listen. Intently. Almost always.

Right now I am supposed to be polishing a portfolio on which I’ve been working for ages. Instead I’m writing this post, but prior to it I listened to at least a dozen pieces of music. It goes like this:

(Hint: keyboard sound) Click, clack, clickety clack… Stop. Music plays in the background.Clack, clack… cl-ack… clicke-ty… clack. Stop. A phrase captivates my attention. It literally sparks my imagination into loads of ideas, concepts, muttered prayers. clickety, clickety, clickety, clack… tap, tap, tap. My desk and bare hands have been engaged. I’m getting the rhythm. Thoughts continue to flow. Are these laptop or piano keys? That’s it; I’m lost.

Even if just momentarily, I enter this realm of the Heavenly – which much reminds me of some rabbis pointing to all things ordinary as possibilities for bringing the mundane and the spiritual closer together. Every time; all the time. There are two options: either to sing my lungs out to the tune, perhaps even paired with some good ol’ potentially hip dislocating movements, or stop fooling myself, pretending I won’t pay attention to the music in the background and just turn it off, If and when I am serious about getting some work done.

Granted, of those two options the latter sounds more sensible but, ha! Dare I miss the chance of hearing God speak into my heart, especially as those occasions tend to be rare? (at least the “spontaneous” ones) Dare I miss the chance of having (an)other human being(s) grasping chunks of my heart, whose existence I ignored?! Never!

So… that’s why I didn’t bring my homework, Miss…

and the reason my clothes won’t get put up tonight either, my floor will remain dusty and I’ll most likely be freaking out in the morning for I am late for church. Again.

I just listen. Intently. I use time for it and so all the other stuff happens to get in the way of my listening.

My suggestion for you this Sunday? Listen – no, but really, listen – to a couple songs yourself. Be inspired. Be lifted up and enjoy!

· · ·

P.S. In case you were wondering, nope, not everything I listen resembles “Sister Act” or the Baptist Hymnal (nothing wrong with them, though). Someone’s words I keep imbibing lately are Josh Garrel‘s. Check him out.

Picture by: Atibes (through Flickr®)

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One Response to Sunday’s prelude

  1. The Baf says:

    Hey Nita, I hear you. We really do need to stop and listen to the music as well as smell the coffee. Hey drinking a nice cup of coffee while listening to the music is sounds like a great idea to me :0)

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