It’s late evening once again, my favorite part of the day, here in front of my fireplace, dancing flames, strings of twinkling colored lights and soft music, turning my room mystical, it seems.
My thoughts are on the words inside cards that have been given to me. May I say a few words about those words…’Peace and good will towards all men?’
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As my cheeks started to numb, I quickly retreat inside, choosing instead, a cup of hot chocolate and a warm fire. It is bitterly cold as the last remnants of a Western Canadian blizzard, now empty of wind and snow, unsure of invitation from neighboring provinces, firmly plants itself, deciding to linger for a few more days here in the foothills.
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Oliver Wendell Holmes has suggested that ‘many people die with their music still in them.’ If he’s referring to the sounds I’m trying to produce with my piano, I agree. The music is still in me somewhere!
However, I don’t think he was referring to my attempts to play the piano, although he himself was a poet and writer of songs. I think he meant the part of our lives that I call our shadow, the part that is always there, but in the background.
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Just a few words today about an interesting perspective, since it has come up in the lives of so many that I know. Do you notice how much confusion there is in some of the things we say? Or rather, confusion from what others think we said? Or, on this page, maybe about what I write?
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