Saturday, October 20, 2012
The pianist lies in bed at night trying to sleep with the sound of soft snoring, interposed with episodes of stertorous sounds of air intake from her companion, the gentle dream cries, the rocking noise of the bed from body tossing that are signs of life and provide ambivalent comfort as one senses the continuation of the life force in place, at least for tonight. The pfsst of flatus from time to time and the thrash of an arm give a sense of life in the dim room, that another day of "ourness" will survive. The coughing and sniffing sounds rising up with his flatfooted beat on the stairs, announces reconnection,without which all is void. The sharp echoes of argument and passion re- awake the entrance to the brain-bridge that defies all the unconnectedness of indifference! Every day is reality therapy! There is no soundlessness here which always leads to gulf and distance. Passion and stridence give a form of musical harmony, both "cordant" and discordant, but essential wholeness . Sitting on the medical ward in the still of the night; making the hourly rounds; listening carefully to the comforting sounds through the dim light by the bedside, blesses the tiptoe listener with the music of the hospice that sooths. Comforting sounds from the crib with the nightly vigil of the night visitor who leans and rearranges the blanket tossed, and gathers in the sounds as soothing recognition of life, listened to and heard. A still small cry from the depth of rubble, or the airless shaft, announces life to the frantic rescuers and comforts someone,somewhere, that a blessing is possible and what cannot be seen, nor can be touched, is music that sings to each of us. Harmony Divine!