There are moments when the headwinds we face stiffen and we can pause to re-evaluate, when the barriers are so subtly persistent that every move seems blocked, when the ceilings are so low that we can’t seem to even stand upright . . .
. . . this is where, a chastened and confused, talented and dedicated singer lifted her heartfelt lament . . .
“What good was finding my voice? The way they’re trying to keep me bottled up, you’d think by now I’d have learned to go along and do what they want. Maybe I should just give up.”
And her mind fell quiet while the tears rolled.
“Don’t do it, Aretha.”
She didn’t know if she’d heard it or felt it.
She would not ever be sure if that came into her heart or from her heart.
It didn’t matter. Asked and answered as the lawyers would say.
As it turned out, she was as good a listener as she was a singer from the soul and she dedicated herself to singing with and in love through every song, every note. It was a feeling of great devotion and passion. It was for me at least.
I cannot explain it.
With my own eyes closing and spirit soaring on the sounds of her voice, I will gladly remain mystified.
And ever so grateful.
I have no purpose other than it needs saying.