My Amazing Harp
A caregiver wheeling her loved one to an appointment, passed me as I sat in a hallway playing my little harp. The next thing I knew, she was back, alone, smiling. She sat down next to me, wiping away the tears that flowed down her cheeks. “Are you okay?” I asked her above the notes that floated over us. “Oh, yes!” she responded, “These are tears of joy.” Her mood, she told me, had been black all morning—try as she had, she could not shake her state of glumness. “And then I heard the music from your amazing harp—instant joy and hope and healing. How could I not be happy?”
“And tears are heard within the harp I touch.”—Petrarch
“Always remember that I am a poet, not a philosopher. Remember always that I am not a missionary but a musician playing on the harp of your heart.” —Bhagwan Shree Rajineesh
“The harp that once through Tara’s halls, The soul of music shed.—Thomas Moore
Enjoy your day.
#1 from .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) on October 22, 2011
Recently, I found myself in the role of caregiver instead of harpist. I was surprised by the constant level of stress. Each moment was filled with phone calls or waiting for phone calls, appointments, tests and forms, forms, forms. Everyday things were harder - like driving the car and remembering where I parked.
It gives me a new appreciation for what we do. Five minutes of harp music would have been PERFECT - and unexpected music even better. My body and soul craved a moment to relax and breathe. And now I’m more cautious in the hospital parking lots - I really shouldn’t have been behind the wheel