Alexandersmap

    Tag: Brandi Carlile

    • Love Is Touching Souls

      Oh, I am a lonely painter
      I live in a box of paints
      I’m frightened by the devil
      And I’m drawn to those ones that ain’t afraid
      I remember that time you told me
      You said, “Love is touching souls”
      Surely you touched mine
      ‘Cause part of you pours out of me
      In these lines from time to time
      — Joni Mitchell, A Case of You

      Joni Mitchell, 79 as I write this, recently played live for three hours with Brandi Carlile and a host of other very talented people. I thought about doing a “Joni Mitchell in Five Songs” blog post as I’ve done with other artists, but this isn’t the time to summarize a career that’s once again active. I think I’ll leave it with this one brilliant lyric from A Case of You. Do you wonder who she’s writing about, or reflect instead on your own ghosts? She remains an inspiration for those of us who are forever stacking words together to find the meaning hidden deep inside of us.

      We are, each of us, influenced by ghosts who reveal themselves now and then in moments of clarity. Some are profoundly important souls who reverberate long after they’ve passed (I think of a certain Navy pilot as I write this), and some reveal themselves in a vision replayed from time to time. A gesture or something said that caught your attention in a conversation long ago, which rewards you now as a nod of approval for an evasive line you didn’t know you had in you. What carries these memories even now, after all this time?

      We are each in the business of touching souls, and making something of our time with others. It would be bold to say that we’ll ever be a highlight in someone else’s memory playlist, for being memorable was never the point at all. Too many focus on cleverness, when it’s bringing meaning to another life that ripples beyond our time.

      So what has meaning in our moments? Isn’t it feeling connection with another, for an instant or a lifetime built together? Touching souls begins with revealing our own to another, that they may feel liberated to rise beyond themselves. It’s a flicker of light in the darkness, fragile yet forever illuminating. Prompting reflections that shine beyond their genesis.

    • Whispers in the Woods

      Have you ever wandered lonely through the woods?
      And everything there feels just as it should
      You’re part of the life there
      You’re part of something good
      If you’ve ever wandered lonely through the woods
      – Brandi Carlile, Phillip and John Hanseroth, Have You Ever

      It’s hunting season in New England, and bright orange is the color of choice for those who dare wander into the woods. Admittedly I haven’t been wandering in the local woods all that much lately, for reasons both valid and delusional, but mostly because I got out of the habit of placing myself there. You know when you’ve been gone too long, you feel it in your bones. I’d been gone too long and finally did something about it.

      Walking through the bare trees of New England in late Autumn, smelling the fallen leaves in the cool, damp air, delivers a unique sense of place not achieved in a world of concrete and steel. Inevitably you think of those who wandered these woods before you, whether yesterday or a thousand years ago, the woods hold their hopes and dreams and secrets just as firmly as they’ll hold your own.

      There are whispers in the forest, easily heard in solitude. They’re reflections of our greatest hopes and fears. Yes, some fear the woods, hearing ghosts, fairies or dark spirits. I think we mostly hear our own inner voice, caught in the wind and reflected back to us as naked truth, as cold and bare as the tree trunks and branches.

      In his enduring gift Walden, Thoreau described the “indescribable innocence and beneficence of Nature”. Nature surely gives back far more than it receives from humanity. Shouldn’t we offer something good in return for the gift of nature?

      Readers of this blog know that I chafe at loud talkers, people who play music while hiking, motorized vehicles, and other such encroachments in the woods. It feels blasphemous, disrespectful, and the antithesis of all I go there for. But the trees themselves don’t care, they’ve seen it all before and will again. The intrusion is mine to bear, the trees will still be here, hopefully, long after the rest of us clear out.

      This too shall pass, the wind whispers through the bared forest. The leaves returning to earth underfoot voice their agreement. Here, you’re part of something good. One day we’ll all be ghosts, mere whispers in the wind. But not today. Today we were alive, and the woods felt just as they should.

    • Up to the Nostrils

      “I think you should always do shit that scares you. You just always have to do stuff that scares you. Just wander right off into the water right up to where just your nostrils are out of it. And then just try and live there.” – Brandi Carlile, on The Howard Stern Show

      How deep are you in the body of water you presently find yourself? How can you wade in deeper? How can you challenge yourself more than you are right now? Are you afraid of drowning? Or simply afraid of getting a little wet?

      Stern is a brilliant interviewer, and when he has someone as extraordinary as Brandi Carlile on his show, someone who rises to the occasion because she’s not afraid to wade in up to the nostrils, the conversation is compelling. Because there’s something drawn out of that conversation that transcends the people talking, they draw something out of you too. You find yourself questioning just how deeply you’ve been willing to wade into that water yourself. In that question is the answer for what you’ve got to do next, should you have the courage to do so.

      What comes next? Where do we go from here? What do you have to give up within yourself to get try to live in that place where you’re just on the edge of drowning? For that is the place where you transcend the ordinary.

      We forget, in our fear of wading in so deeply, that we don’t have to drown. We might just learn to swim in deeper waters. We might just thrive when we find that scary stuff isn’t all that scary after all. Go deeper.