Playing with Fire & Remembering Imagination
It's far too easy to forget who we are. Remembering is a blessing.
I forget. Frequently.
Not just the little things, either, like the things I need to write down in a bullet journal so that they don’t disappear into the ether.
I forget the big things.
I forget the why’s. The reasons. I forget what started something. The intention behind the action that has now become rote, boring, or tedious? I forget that.
My grandma, who I love beyond measure, is at the part of life’s end where memory is on short repeat. She forgets what we spoke about 5 minutes ago. This can be either benign or tragic, depending on how willing her conversation partner is to repeat the same thing over, and over, and over again. I can be that for her, and thankfully I don’t need that frequent a reminder, myself. Not yet, at least.
But I still need reminding, because I forget.
Music has been central to almost my entire life.
I say almost, because somehow in my time spent becoming a priest I’ve grown more distant to music. It’s there, but it’s not there. I’ve never forgotten music entirely, but I think I’ve forgotten who I am in relation to music. It’s become optional, and I think that may be a part of why I’ve felt increasingly lost and directionless.
But then, at just the right moment, I received a reminder. Not just a reminder about music, but about the complexity of my relationship to music, writing, faith, practice, and imagination.
Kimbra, my friend and collaborator, gave me a reminder of who I am, and I want to share it with all of you.
Below is an episode from her new podcast, Playing With Fire, which she has released in tandem with her absolutely brilliant new album, A Reckoning. We recorded this conversation about a year ago, at which point I was still working for Grace and ministering in The Chapel. Her questions prompted me to reflect on things I hadn’t though about in years; things which I had nearly or completely forgotten.
When I listened to this interview this week, it was like I was ministering to myself, loving myself, reminding myself of who I am.
And by the end of it, I felt like me again.
Let me know what you think, and please do check out Kimbra’s album. It’s stunning.
I look forward to your comments.
If you were one of the 7 Founding Members of Heartsong who donated at the highest tear when this project launched last year, be on the lookout for an email to schedule a Zoom checkin. I can’t wait to connect with you and I am tremendously grateful for your support.
"My music is the true-ist language i speak".
Yup.
More than words, tired old flat black and white words. A lot more. Shape and depth and color.
and passion.
For those with ears to hear, seeing someone close their eyes and speak their words thru their music, its like magic.
Sing on, mdm.
This made my day.....what a gift listening to your conversation with your friend Kimbra. Sharing you story, your experiences, your questions, your curiosity, your vulnerability, your music, who YOU are is a blessing. I can relate to so much of what you talk about here...trusting ourselves as we make are way is such a huge part of the process. You bring so much heart when you share who you are...I so appreciate you.