Tumbling Words – BeHeld NW Tour (2012)
I am in the great green state of Washington, mid-way through the release tour for BeHeld. It is grey and cold outside, and I’m warm with tea and guitar in a sweet studio, alone with self. A day for making things up. Like words. Try to describe the wideness of my insides with tiny letters, made to shape like some small semblance of what really is. Delightful.
One of the most wondrous things of being on tour is how each day is a completely new experience, new people, new city, new opportunity to learn, and share as honestly full-heart-in-it no-holding-back as possible. Showing me more of how to truly GIVE this music.
I am being blown sideways and swatted gently upstream with the lesson of Surrender. How to get out of the way. To stand aside so the music can take the reigns. If I don’t, the show isn’t received into the audiences’ hearts, it feels good, but somethings missing. And when I step aside, when I truly let go of ALL expectations, and stand in the center of the song, where I drop every single shred of what I think it should all look like, and am simply joyful to get to sing — that is where the magic happens.
I am so humbled by this work. And completely in awe of how massively and gracefully the universe hands us lessons.
When I get out of the way, the music becomes an unknown, even to me. I sing it as though for the first time. And it brings what it needs to for each night — tears, healing, joy, inspiration. And each performance becomes an opportunity for us to sink in deeply with one another, with ourselves, in that moment.
In Portland, everyone packed into the venue, sitting on the floor, folded in with each other. Voices sang along, knowing every line. We turned the venue into a home for that hour. We went deep. We wove ceremony into performance.
Anything is possible.
Two days ago, I wandered through an incredible forest in Bellingham… and was shook suddenly with a remembering of who I am, how my roots go deep, how my branches reach. Reminded me that I stand on a body that is endlessly giving, endlessly holding me. Reminded me to thank her for that.
Remembering these things is my very favorite experience of being human. It is what every single song is stitched with. It is why I love singing them.
At the end of the trail, Watcom Falls, flushing watersound through the eardrums, till the ears are so full, you can’t hear that voice telling you what you can’t do.
It’s so easy to forget what’s really real. To feel all that seems pressing and urgent as very important, and forget to go outside, breathe in the sunset before it leaves. Could be the last these eyes see.
If these next three breaths are your last breaths, how do you breathe them?
Crouched in between ferns and fallen tree limbs, the rushing river below the steep bank before me, these words came in a flurry…
Onward! we shall see what unfolds yet.