What is life saying to you? Do you hear the melody beneath all the noise? Some melodies are a little more comical than others. I awoke yesterday with a song floating through my head, one I wouldn’t click to listen to or go around the corner or into a next room to bother to hear. I don’t like the musician’s style, etc. But in spite of that and in spite of not having heard the song in what…? Decades? There it was. “I love a rainy night…” by Eddie…Rabbit. Maybe it’s the rabbits hopping through my yard almost every day now, sometimes sprawled out in the grass, with their back legs spread out behind them, big floppy ears down, eyes brown and wide. Does Eddie Rabbit have brown eyes? Is he still alive? No, I just Googled him. He’s not alive. Ok, he’s faded into or burst vibrantly onto/into the next expression of love. But we don’t know him as alive. But I digress and chase rabbits.
What’s the point in the brain hurling up a song I haven’t heard and wasn’t crazy about…? I do like the one line: I love a rainy night. Oh and “And I love you too…” but the tune? It’s definitely sweet. Just not my cup of tea.
Much later that day, it rained, torrential, before the sun set, before the afternoon had even succumbed to the inevitable fade… and then into the night and the song came drifting back in. I couldn’t help but laugh. Was it just a coincidence? Probably. Maybe. Maybe not. It depends on where you stand and what you believe. Lately, I believe more and more in the purpose of “things” … “things” like stubbed toes, a car almost stolen and all the resulting collisions with other people and events, events we try to fathom as indicating something “good” or “bad” about us or others but… when we let go of having to judge the “goodness” of a situation, we find something deeper, especially if we have open hearts. What is life saying to me?
the rainy nights
the blooming colors
the crisis of meaning a boy has when he’s 12
the endless “coincidental” goings on in a 24 hour period
What do I hear? I hear a universe inviting us to dance. Roll with the ridiculous… shrug off the meanies… and go ahead and love the rainy night.
Something deep is at work. Something bigger than us (love) orchestrates opportunity for proving how precious are our lives… and I suppose the one question I hear every morning when I awaken, whether a song of obscure past experiences heralds the day or not, is this: “How will you make love come alive today?”
Bloom, people… bloom.