Quick glance at the clock and damn… I’m late. It’s the end of the day and I’m still at the beginning of my list of things to do. But Phoenix needs to be picked up. Any chance the roads will be clear enough to shave minutes off the commute? It doesn’t matter. Just grab stuff and go. Any hours of work that didn’t get accomplished today will just have to happen tonight. There’s no time to think it through now. I can think in the car. I hope I can think. Is there anything creative left in my head? Think and pray. God… give me strength. Make me strong enough and fast enough to do all of this and to do it well. Make me strong.
Wait. This may be it. These may be the only minutes for the rest of the day that are just mine. Rest the brain. Slow down. Take some time. I know what I need. I need a song. Windows down… deep breaths of fresh air… and a song.
Cue… Sara Bareilles.
Last week I ventured with two friends to the Electric Factory for Sara’s concert. (Yes – she and I are on a first name basis.) Ever the student, I took away some lessons learned.
- I am fast approaching the age where I want to have the option to sit down. Standing room only grows old when the person in front of you thinks your feet are there to serve as some sort of platform for better viewing.
- I love live music. I love the look, sound, scent, and feel of live music. Therefore, I am quickly annoyed by the young kids (yes – showing my age again) in front of me who insist on recording and watching the entire LIVE show on their electronic device. Put it down and enjoy the show. If you desire to watch the show on a small screen, I recommend YouTube. It was declared “The Monster Search Engine You Can’t Ignore” by MediaPost and won’t block my view if you let your fingers do the clicking from home.
- The right song… in the right moment… can speak to your soul, lift your spirit, and remind you to just keep going.
Today, with the windows down and the volume elevated to a level that my mother would disapprove of, but consistently wins me points with the teen audience, Hercules lifted me. At the melodic altar of Saint Sara, I re-found the bounce in my step (or, more accurately, my drivers’ seat) and my will to push through.
Cause I have sent for a warrior
From on my knees, make me a Hercules
I was meant to be a warrior please
Make me a Hercules.
God… make me a Hercules, characterized by my strength in life’s daily adventures. Oh, and thank you for a Sara Bareilles and her gift for song that pulled me back from an edge today and still has me smiling and hope-filled.
WHERE DO YOU FIND YOUR STRENGTH?
Ifeoma U. Aduba