Forgiveness Takes to the Highway
The Value of Being Face to Face.
July saw my wife Julia and I taking to the highway in support of our new album, Caravan of Dawn, our latest sonic child which carries on The Levins’ family name. The release has had a successful radio emergence on Folk and Root’s Charts, (Top 10 album/Top 3 Song), yet it is vital to complete the circuit of going into new communities and playing live. We are planning to go up to Maine (8/19) and down to South Carolina (1/20) but this last month we took I-80 as far as Colorado. We made it a point to align our shows in locations that would allow us to get to see dear friends along the way. Too much time had elapsed since we had last reveled in each other’s company. Even though we talk often and stay connected through social media, it isn’t the same as being face to face. Each year, there were declarative treatises pulling conscious heart-strings to bring us back together. This year, with my father’s passing and the tragic loss of another of our close friends, we knew it was time to make the journey.
We began in the town of Salida, CO, which some call the Banana Belt of the Rockies, for its relatively pleasant weather year round. A charmed and lively desert mountain town with bicyclists, the Arkansas River, kayaks and rafts running through it. It is also filled with artists, including two of our friends; one of which was house sitting and invited us to stay with him. In high school and college, there were always houses where our collective spirit was given full reign to dance, to sing, to embrace, to bridge the space between us. This house in Salida was a sanctuary right on the river. It was filled inside and out with huge plants, some seventy years old. There were buddhas and reminders everywhere to be mindful of what was being offered to us. During a few full days together, we were joined by our friend’s seven-year daughter, who we were meeting for the first time. Almost out-hosting our host (not an easy thing to do), she engaged and enchanted us with an old soul charm. Her curiosity and wonder were matched by a surprising relaxed depth that made talking to her delightfully comfortable and sweet. Our time together was also bittersweet. Another high school friend, who also lived in Salida, had recently taken his life. We held a concert in the yoga studio where his memorial had been held. We learned that memorial had been filled to capacity, which prompted his sister to declare, “Look at all of these people who loved you, you asshole.” The yoga instructor, who had taught him for eight years, remarked how everything had been coming together for him. I guess that is the paradox. It seems such a short gap to fill, that hole that resides in our heart when we can’t allow one another or our Self inside. Sitting by the river, we looked at old photographs and FaceTimed with one of our crew, who was central to our connection. The phone was passed around. Within the circle that we forged years ago, our bond was intravenous. We became so close, we are family. Whether we annoy one another, grievances arise, or we don’t always see eye to eye, `the bond remains. Looking at one of the pictures, I was reminded of when I had to tell a friend that his ex- girlfriend had passed away. At the time, he pointedly dismissed it, doing his utmost to appear indifferent. She had hurt him and had prolonged abusing herself until her body gave up the ghost. It seemed to me that his reaction was really a determination not get caught in the headlights of despair but to stay focused on the road, where dawn offered a broader perspective. It struck me how easily we can write one another off, pretending it doesn’t matter. Sometimes, we can convince ourselves that self-reliance is the only way to get through. In our hearts, occasionally bruised and encased in armor, we know truth lies between us. We carry those we actively love and even those we have seemingly discarded.
It turned out forgiveness and healing were going to be a recurring theme of this tour. It would come up in our next gig in Boulder. A former family member surprised us by coming to our concert. It had the potential of opening old wounds but I am glad it did not stop him. We re-bonded over lunch and I felt we were being given a gift that wasn’t on my radar. Our interaction opened my heart more fully, which is vital since I will be officiating his daughter’s upcoming wedding. Cosmic surprise?
After Colorado, we played in Lincoln, Nebraska. There was a lot of flooding along the plains but it was also encouraging to see miles of wind and solar farms. Another dear friend had rented a house and had brought her ten-year-old daughter to meet Julia and I. It had been over two decades since our road had diverged but her frank honesty still rang true in her laughter that always cut through pretense and made you feel right at home. It was a recharging reminder of the value of staying connected in person, beyond social media- a magical time that bears repeating often.
In Julia’s hometown, we filled the house of a local theater. Not just any theater, the History Boy Theater. A classmate of Julia’s is a craftsman who creates hand-made furniture in the style of 1875. He cuts the trees. With tongue and groove, he forges each piece without screws or nails. He creates the stains that he applies to his tables, chairs, armoires, and the like. Like the artisans of 1875, he manages to build seventy pieces a year, which he ships all over the country. His other love is theater. So, of course, he built and runs a regional theater in the back of his shop. His theater has had at least four world premieres and in 2016, he was awarded top tourist destination in the state of Iowa. Yet, while the shows he puts on in his Dickensian hall play to full houses, they are often mainly filled with folks from out of town. He was overjoyed that our concert brought with it such a concentration of locals. Here were Julia’s teachers, neighbors, friends and family. This was the first time that many of them got to see that Julia’s dedication to her craft has resulted in a harmony that can lift the heart of a small town.
After we played, the sidewalk was filled with friends, rekindling their connections. This meant as much as the standing ovation and our outstanding CD sales. We got to stay with friends along the way as we played shows in Illinois and Ohio, where the success of the tour was augmented, verified and clarified with each joyous interaction. As we finished the tour, we made it to New York but had barely unloaded the car when we had to rush out for one more evening concert. The show went fine but exhaustion took over and Julia got bit by a wasp on the hand, just before we played. Not the best way to punctuate the end of a meaningful three weeks. Afterwards, we drove around unsuccessfully looking for dinner, which left me in a cranky, crusty over-exposed state. Happily, the audio book we were listening to was Anne Lamott’s Almost Everything: Notes on Hope, (and we found some pistachios in the car). In her quiet, vulnerable way, Anne seemed to be in the car with us, assuring me that even in an intolerable mode, I was still a part of the Caravan of Dawn, still worthy of allowing forgiveness to lighten my perspective.
“The lesson here is that there is no fix. There is, however, forgiveness. To forgive yourselves and others constantly is necessary. Not only is everyone screwed up, but everyone screws up… We have to make ourselves available to one another, or we can’t experience goodness. It’s not so much us seeking God, tracking Her down with a butterfly net; it’s agreeing to be found. The Old Girl reaches out to everyone and wants to include us in this beautiful, weird, sometimes anguished life. All people: go figure.” ― Anne Lamott, Almost Everything: Notes on Hope The Caravan of Dawn moves on. It isn’t about this album or our careers, although we are open to and are inviting in all the prosperity and expansive beauty this music can generate. The connections we have been given, through friendships, family, books, songs, plays, art, nature and that bond with the ineffable, afford us the opportunity to usher in light, sometimes in shifts. But this light manages to circle the globe 24 hours a day, nurturing our temporal exquisite forms that send their roots unseen and intertwined, out into the stars.
“Side by Side, wide as the horizon- giddy as a bride, the universe inside them… There is a Caravan of Dawn, always on the curve; always moving on…breaking up the darkness with an aviary song, singing: Beauty has claimed you. Seasons have changed you. This moment reveals you. Nothing Conceals you.”- The Levins
This entry was posted in Anne Lamott, Caravan of Dawn, connection, forgiveness, Friendship, Healing, The Levins, The Levins Music and tagged Almost Everything, Anne Lamott, Caravan of Dawn, Colorado, Darlene Jansen, face to face, forgiveness, healing, History Boy Theater, Jefferson Iowa, Lincoln Nebraska, Salida, Summertour, The Levins music on by .
Originally published at http://www.streamoflightblog.com on July 31, 2019.
