God Sounds

It was approximately 15 years ago that I felt I’d lost my passion for playing music.
It’s pretty much that simple.
I no longer wanted to play professionally and to be honest I had a tough time convincing many people of my said intentions. I prayed that God would somehow intervene and
place the passion back into my life but for unknown reasons
He had a very different plan for me.
It was around that time that I began writing and in my heart, I embraced it from a purely creative standpoint saying ‘goodbye’ to the musical interlude in my life.
It just felt right at the time.
This post, however, is not about writing but the fact that something happened today that made me intrinsically understand that I haven’t lost my passion for music after all.
It’s just been delicately moved to a very private place.

I was telling someone a story about a night many years ago when I was still gigging.
Looking for something to do on my break, I found a dark and empty function room that was quiet (unlike the loud, shitty disco music they were playing on my break).
In the middle of the room there was a candle of a spotlight shining down on an object that I came to discover was a small grand piano. I sat down and played a few favorite chord changes and my mouth unconsciously uttered the words: Oh, My, God.
This was not your basic grand piano.
This was something special.
This was a Twilight Zone moment.
I looked around for a solitary ‘signpost up ahead’ and just began playing.
I became unaware of time and space and the spinning world I was currently sitting upon.
I was ‘in the creative zone’ while on a 20 minute break from my gig.
After the band finished and everyone was ready to go home, I began heading back into the club.

“Where the hell are you going?” the guitar player asked.

“Back to play that piano,” I said.

“You’re nuts, man. It’s two o’ clock in the morning.”

In I went and sat down.
And I played.
And played.
I was lost somewhere between heaven and the belt of Orion.
My heart was almost breaking the sound was so beautiful.
I remember thinking, ‘this must be how God sounds’.
I had no idea what time it was when a voice from the shadows shattered my musical reverie.

“Hey, kid . . . You sound great but I gotta close up. You hungry?”

He sent me home with a huge container of hummus and a bag of fresh Syrian bread.
I felt blessed in so many ways that night.
And damn, I love Lebanese food.

In telling the story today something unexpected happened: I had goose bumps all over my arms.
My passion for music hadn’t died at all it’s grown deeper.
I’m a bit surprised at just how deep.
If you’re curious about what kind of piano I played, it was a Steinway M, in rosewood.
I should have known.
God must have created the damn piano . . .

19 thoughts on “God Sounds

  1. Great story! There are certain things we gain appreciation for. When we discover the soul within, when we connect and understand… we become in tune… indeed, your passion went deeper within your soul after that moment of peace and perfection… you became lost in your love… for music… it shall be with you forever… this truly was a great story…


    Though I’m still not sure why the story came out.
    It was a nice surprise ending for me, to be sure.
    Thanks for reading.
    ~m

  2. Awesome tale my friend. Some things never leave us. They just hibernate for a while to awake in their own time.

    Some things never leave us

    Thank God for that, huh?
    Thanks, bud.
    ~m

  3. Those moments. Oh god. Those moments when you access the divine in a way that shatters you. That remakes you in an altered state. When everything seems brighter. And bolder. And more hopeful.

    And there is nothing quite like good hummus and bread.

    “And there is nothing quite like good hummus and bread.”
    Unless there’s some babaganoosh to go along with it. :0)
    ~m

  4. Although I don’t know the slightest thing about Music I do recognise what you just wrote about.

    Many years ago, I was witness to a moment like that, when I watched my then boyfriend reunite with his piano that he hadn’t touched in many months.

    He didn’t know I was there behind him watching, he wasn’t ‘there’. I’ve never seen or felt anything like it, and I was very aware that I was privileged to be allowed to see it. Eventually he stopped playing, turned around and looked at me. I’ve never seen a look that calm and bright on a human’s face ever again. But I know I’d recognise it anytime.

    Then we checked our watches and were in awe that we both hadn’t moved in so many hours.

    Thanks for sharing M.

    The passage of time during the act of creating is a wonderful thing.
    I’ve experienced it many times as I’m sure you have as well.
    And yeah, I think in many ways it is a privilege to see it, to see the soul connect to something greater than itself (isn’t that what happens?)
    Nice to hear from you, S
    Tanks,
    ~m

  5. A great story to wake up to!
    I have a special piano. It was my grandmother’s. Just a couple of weeks ago, my 3 yr old granddaughter was playing on it and said, “look at this.” Her lower eye level had noticed some writing on the right side of the last key on the left, that can only be seen when you press the key that’s right next to it. It was a date and initials, which don’t mean anything to me: 8-31-16 FMS
    hmmm…

    What make is the piano?
    Very cool with the writing on the key.
    Have you played those numbers yet? ;)
    ~m

  6. winks and sounds? interesting combination ~m….

    I was lost somewhere between heaven and the belt of Orion.
    My heart was almost breaking the sound was so beautiful

    now that struck a chord….

    and delicately moved to a very private place? i have many things in that place…too many if the truth be known…
    nice little post ~m

    Someone once said that heaven is located in the belt of Orion, didn’t they?
    Thanks, Moe.

  7. beautiful and profound
    i only find those moments while making love.

    At least you find them, Oz.
    That’s the most important thing.
    ~m

  8. He speaks to us, but sometimes we do not hear him. Too busy hearing our own loud voices. I am glad that you heard him then. I am glad you recognize that the gift is still there– deeper, different but there. His Grace is an amazing gift.

    It is sad that many never listen.
    With the whirlwind of life spinning, it is difficult.
    That night will be with me forever, for so many different reasons.
    And yes, I was definitely listening.
    Thanks so much, KLC
    ~m

  9. Oh, I’d love to hear a podcast of your music. As I’m sure everyone else would. I can’t play, can’t sing, but I can appreciate. :)

    Again, I’ll have to think about this.
    Oh the possibilities . . .
    ~m

  10. Oh… And I almost could hear the notes floating through the room…

    Then the post worked. Nice. ;)
    Thanks, D
    Nice to hear from you, as always
    ~m

  11. “God must have created the damn piano . . .”

    uh, yeah…as well when YOU came into this world, He touched you, and said, let this man bring his gift of music to others, and share it so they may feel what he feels, and hear what he hears…

    the goosebumps are no surprise to this stony-hearted old gal. i know of your passion about your craft, and am exalted by it! it’s one of the main reasons i follow the damned band all over new england!

    i’ve said it on more than one occasion: you phucking rock! the CD you shared with me is gorgeous, and i will cherish it always.

    YOUR self-effacing humorous response aside, i meant every single word when i said: “i will attend concerts and shows
    and celebrate the wonder of gifted musicians” in my funny little sophomoric poem, http://whyvonne.wordpress.com/2008/07/17/yvonne-at-4791666/

    you possess several rare and unique talents & traits, {humility being the most touching by far} and i treasure you!

    I do have a very unique talent that many folks don’t know about.
    I can play “the way we were’ in two different keys at the same time.
    It sounds hideous but it’s funny as hell.
    I will entertain you the next time we’re near a piano . . .
    Thanks so much, Y
    ~m

  12. To answer your questions, it’s a Baldwin Acrosonic. And what do you mean by “playing those numbers?”

    Baldwin made a great piano years ago.
    Never played an Acrosonic but it sounds like it has some serious sentimental value.
    Playing the numbers? Lottery, baby, lottery! ;)
    ~m

  13. Gee, I don’t know if I was supposed to get teary eyed reading this but I did. That happened to me twice when my children were born but never again. Maybe someday. Maybe you have to make it happen yourself. You just can’t wait for God to come and say ” Hey, I’m going to give you a God moment here so appreciate it.” I’m glad it happened to you. It gave me the shivers reading about it. Maybe someday I will do something again and it will happen to me.

    I agree, you can’t wait for a sign falling from heaven.
    You have to be on watch.
    Yeah, it did happen. Didn’t look at it as a total “God” moment at the time but I think it was.
    A small gift . . .
    ~m

  14. Wonderfully moving story.

    I play piano also (mediocre at best) but I love it. Hubby gave me a piano for Valentine’s Day 3 years ago. It was made the year I was born, and spent its life in a church until it came to me. It is only an Everett studio, but it has a sound that I love. And I’ve been neglecting it. I will play it tomorrow and I will remember why I love to play my piano.

    You’re making the piano sad, MrsV
    Please do play it.
    Pianos were made for that kind of thing ;)
    ~m

  15. Yo Tunesmith:

    That’s a great tale….gotta go dry my eyes.

    Keep on playing.

    All Best,

    Jojo


    Glad you liked it, bud.
    Great tale. And true blue.
    ~m

  16. Pingback: An inspiration… perhaps my muse « Journals Of Enreal

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