Contrast

Half of the singers in the Pacific Mozart Ensemble did an extra gig last week with great success and to widespread acclaim. They sang backup for Sufjan Stevens, an indie rock idol who performed on the campus of the University of California, Berkeley. I might have been the oldest person in the audience. My daughter thought she might have been the second oldest. Most of the singers were older than the audience. It was a young crowd, several thousand strong – two sold out nights.

Eric, one of the PME singers, made the suggestion to Sufjan to include a choral backup in this concert.  The rock star and his group were wonderfully receptive. Eric had to jump through many hoops to make it all work, arranging choral parts to blend with and enhance 17 songs, as well as planning, coordinating, and conducting many rehearsals with 24 people who already had very busy lives. They didn’t even know for sure they’d get into the show because Sufjan could pull their plug at the sound check! Scary stuff. It was daring for Eric to reach for the stars to fulfill a life-long dream! Eric’s success meant they all succeeded. Everyone, singers, instrumentalists, and audience loved the event.

The morning after the last performance, as emails of thanks and appreciation were flying around among the singers, I got news of the death of a friend. She was married to one of the founding members of PME and, although he left the group 10 years ago, he is still dearly loved. I wanted to postpone telling the ecstatic singers because I didn’t want to rain on their parade. Even though more than half of them wouldn’t even know the woman who died, surely they would be affected by the sadness the others felt. By late morning, everyone had the news.

I was surprised — the elation continued. I was elated for my husband and the other singers. I was happy for this organization to which I give so much of my volunteer time as Executive Director. And I was struck by the perspective I got from the contrast between that elation and the loss and sadness I felt for my friends. The elation felt undiminished, even dearer. The sadness felt deep and poignant.

I didn’t accomplish much more than the bare minimum that day because I was busy allowing myself to feel my emotions. I went for several walks and felt marvelously part of the world. It was actually quite wonderful to have great satisfaction in my body at the same time as a deep well of empathy.  I found myself grateful for being alive in this place, at this time, and I renewed my commitment to live the best life I can. This morning I feel deep joy about my musical family and amazing appreciation for Patty’s tenacious 25 years on kidney dialysis and profound gratitude for knowing someone as giving and committed as Kent Stewart. Indeed, I am grateful for being here writing to you.

Weekly Challenge

An exercise in Jack Canfield’s The Success Principles is a tribute to Kent and Patty who bought a home dialysis unit and a van and traveled around the country for two years. They simply didn’t let obstacles get in their way!

The challenge: create three lists of 30 items – thirty things you want to do before you die, thirty things you want to be, and thirty things you want to have.  If you’re a solitary type person, you could do this at your computer or in your journal. If you work better with support, ask a friend to prompt you and record your answers.

Often the first few items come easily.  When there’s a pause, ask yourself or instruct your friend to ask “What else do you want?” and keep asking until you get at least 30. You’ll probably find that the ends of your lists have more important items than the beginnings.

© 2006, Jacqueline Hale