Over the weekend, we were outside putting up our fall decorations when we heard guitar music coming from across the street.  In an instant, my heart widened. I stopped what I was doing.  All at once I had the realization that I had never heard this sound — someone on his doorstep playing the guitar — outside our house before, and I remembered my life in El Salvador where I heard the sweet sound of guitar playing on a DAILY basis, and my heart ACHED for more of it.

I didn’t realize I missed this – someone playing an instrument, folks singing impromptu songs, everyone gathering – until I heard it again.

We joined our friends across the street.  And A., our never shy three year old son, went right up to the mic – in his fire fighter rainboots, big brother t-shirt, and sunglasses – and started singing “Wild Thing”.  He was a natural…”Come on guys!  Let’s hit it! One, two, three, four, five…. (and kept counting!).

For about half an hour, we made up songs about the “woes” of being a kid (the blues!), trips the beach, why a toddler has got to have his tools with him, and making friends. I marveled in my confident, social son.  I laughed at the words of songs parents helped to make up.  I cracked up over a first grader singing a song that I’m sure is on the top 10 right now but didn’t recognize.  I watched how our six month old started “singing” and “dancing” in her daddy’s arms when her big brother got up to sing.  I breathed in the whole scene.

I LOOONG for more times like this — friends singing together, making it all up as we go along, letting the kiddos be silly…just hanging out singing.  My brain can be such a busy place that over the years, I have gravitated toward silence.  I have some good yoga music for myself and fun music for the kiddos. But when I’ve had the choice, I’d usually choose silence.

Though I looove and bask in the silence of the morning before everyone gets up (sometimes that’s just one minute!), at nap time (if there is one!), in any sweet moment of meditation or prayer that I can carve out in the day, and in the darkness before as I get to bed in the evening, my heart aches for more song in my life.  More gatherings filled with impromptu singing and laughter and sweet poetry.

I could gather with friends and sing like this on a daily basis.  Isn’t that in all of our bones?!  No matter what culture we are from, everyone had music.  Everyone gathered together to sing – every evening.  I NEED this in my life.

During the winter, in the evenings we often hang downstairs and sing, do yoga, play a few songs on the guitar.  I guess I shy away from inviting friends to join us because, well, let’s face it, my guitar playin’ is…. basic.  I use the same strum for just about every song!  And it’s been decades since I played the piano.  But this moment of hearing the sweet sound of the guitar playing outside our suburban home made the conviction even stronger in me that the way we often live in this culture is not for me — in our own little (or often BIG!) homes, in our own little world.  I want my children to know and grow up with people gathering in our tiny kitchen for food, singing, and being together.  I ache for this.  Now to make it happen…

Blessings,
Lisa

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