Savoring the bats prompted me to reflect on my week and the things that have sustained me.
First there was the robin outside the kitchen window nesting in the crepe myrtle awaiting her brood earlier in the week and Bogey our tabby sitting behind the kitchen curtain window mindfully watching her. (She and Bogey still sit and wait.)
Today's sustenance came from finding the first five green beans ready to pick and eat in my raised bed while picking lettuce and arugula for lunch.
Helping others has sustained me this week starting with helping neighbors look for their dog who after many hours was heard barking in the woods and was found, helping a friend pack just a bit as she prepared to move and meeting a new friend whose vision I wanted to encourage.
On the entertainment front, I saw a beautiful documentary about honey bees and an hour prior found nesting bluebirds at a friend's house.
But the highlight of my week was going to the symphony to hear Mahler's "Resurrection." The closest I got to classical music in childhood was piano lessons. Beginning around second or third grade once a week I would be dismissed from class for a piano lesson with Mrs. Loy. It was really a big deal when 'later in life' I got to walk down the hill from the elementary school to the high school for my lesson.
I can still recall (and play) the first two pieces I learned involving all of six keys. They went something like: "Here we go, up a row to a birthday party." and "Dolly dear, Sandman's near. You will soon be sleeping." These were the first two pieces in the red music book from which I played that first year. How is it I recall that music book but not what I did earlier today?
I know Brainologists have the sciency answer for that but for me the most important answer lies on the inside, in the heart. I recall that slim, red music book because my heart was into learning those two little songs, just like it is into watching the green beans, lettuce and squash grow, the bats fly and the robin hatch her eggs.
My heart and intuition is what took me to probably the highlight of my week with the symphony. A month ago I had two friends in town. Thinking they were coming to Nashville Home of Country Music, I surprised them with musical options one night. They got to choose between Ashley Cleveland's rock/gospel at the Bluebird, a jazz singer from LA at Bongo Java or a young Russian pianist at the Schermerhorn Symphony center.
Learning that one friend's mother's middle name was Schermerhorn answered the question. We ended up at the symphony for a concert that was exquisitely perfect for how we had spent our two days together.
That night I noticed the June 2nd performance was Mahler's "Resurrection." I sensed I needed to hear this and tucked the idea away in my never ending list of things to do. As happens often, I began to second guess myself when June 2nd arrived. I tried to talk myself out of going then finally called a friend, my go-to adviser on things classical, who promised I would not be disappointed.
Was she right !! Within minutes of the fourth ovation, I called her to tell her what a treat we had given ourselves. Near the symphonies end, I was in tears and Jerry was feeling as if he could soar from the balcony which takes me back to tonight and the bats.
I began this story after delighting in the bats flitting about our yard. I came inside mindful of how happy the bats made me and wanting to tell someone. I knew I could go on line and find the headlines of the day and week but none of the headlines would note the bats, lettuce or Mahler.
My headlines are heart lines whether they're between me and the bat in the night or the musician from a hundred years prior. My headlines are heart lines revealed in the beauty, grace and connection found in nature, the arts and friendship.
I imagine a world in which heart lines sustain us. I imagine a world in which Heartlines make headlines.
-Dawn, The Good News Muse 4 June 2011