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Posts Tagged ‘soundtrack’

One can read over the brim of one’s cup, just as Treebeard the Ent studied Merry and Pippin in his mountain home over his entdraught in Middle Earth long ago.  Such was I doing when I stopped thinking about the words and became more attentive to the taste in my cup.  I was drinking a vanilla chai tea latte, hot, and slightly watered down due to my lack of tablespoon at work.  The flavor is one of the new things introduced to my life in a year that is rapidly flowing to its end.  I like it. 

 

But I miss hot chocolate.  Not that I never drink chocolate anymore.  That I drink chai tea when I would have been sipping cocoa is undeniable.  Life has changed.  My tastes have dutifully broadened as an expected part of growing up.  If they are broadened, they are also dispersed.  Now the intensity of my appreciation for chocolate is tempered by my acceptance of vanilla chai tea. 

 

Would my life be better if I had refused to taste chai tea?  If through loyalty I remained zealous for chocolate alone, could I still be a grown up and still be happy?  Would I be happier? 

 

Life is a choice whether to try new things.  Once surrendered to a new pet topic, to the diminution of my former sole passion, my experience says there is no possibility of returning to a single-passion life.  A new opportunity arises, and if I am consistent, is tried.  Causes ebb and flow, wax and wane now, each replacing the last for its moment in the spotlight. 

 

I haven’t really written anything in a while.  Inspiration departed.  Whenever that happens I get borderline depressed, because life seems to have lost its flavor, and my passion for each moment has waned.  I don’t like drifting, shallow waves of life lapping around an unresponsive me.  Leaving the metaphor, though, I keep on doing things: going to work, talking to people, checking email.  Even genuine smiles come to my face. 

 

Now, slowly, I think I’m coming out of my doldrums.  A week ago Saturday night, I completely spontaneously saw a movie, August Rush.  There were so few people in the theater, and I was so tired.  Reclined in my seat, I tilted my head against the back of the cushion, and absorbed a beautiful movie.  The soundtrack was uniquely expressive, imposing its presence and importance.  Music spoke in the movie.  It communicated identity, feelings, direction, summons, friendship, longings, and fulfillment. 

 

Afterward I escaped the scent of popcorn into a fresh midnight wind.  The air was too cold to linger, but I breathed it deeply, and memorized its touch on my face.  I felt the cold and the current.  My brother and I talked of how we love things and moments with feeling, and flavor.  They say something, and mean something. 

 

In contrast, the chocolate cake I had just before the movie was bland.  The color boasted bursting flavor, when in actuality the taste was dull and muted.  Not like fudge, or cinnamon, or grape juice.  Those things are so bursting with flavor that they assert their identities. 

 

Then a few days later was a day full of feeling, and a sense of doing things important, though everyday.  I cried near the end, for a few friends came home.  Tears break the walls of the world without passion.  That’s the metaphor of George MacDonald’s Princess Lightness. 

 

Yet when the walls are down, and I care about what happens around me, when I’m advancing my might on causes and people, there’s the probability that I’ll see the world in reality, and see myself as I am.  Couple this to just turning 23, to holidays and old friends, and I am sad now – not depressed, but sad in a sentimental way, in a fightable way. 

 

Sunday I went to Red Robin alone.  They offered me a free burger for my birthday in exchange for receiving their emails, so I went to redeem my coupon.  The staff was nice.  I brought a book about grace.  And in between sips of a chocolate shake and bites of luscious burger, I observed.  The walls caught my attention, bearing an eclectic collection of posters, prints, and photographs.  One fantastic picture showed downtown Chicago along the Chicago River in 1929.  Already the concentration of sky-piercing towers was a marvel.  Chicago is my favorite city.  I can’t lay my finger on the reason, only that when I am there I feel alive.  Every place is a story; every sound has a flavor; and every person has a style. 

 

I love Christmas for the same reason.  Each song is a tale, each note a rush of emotion.  Every light twinkles mystery into my soul.  Altered from its original intent or not, in December the whole country is united in focus.  No one asks why the stores all play music about snow, bells, peace, and Jesus.  It is understood when you wear red that you’re being festive.  Even those who have dropped out of church make it back for the memories of candlelight at Christmas Eve services. 

 

So today, especially at Christmas, I want to challenge you to seize the day.  Breathe the moment.  Live to the hilt.  Pursue life.  Feed on truth.  Praise beauty.  Remember.  Cry.  Hope.  Laugh.  Sing.  Love. 

 

To God be all glory,

Lisa of Longbourn

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God’s ways are not my ways. 

After snowstorms, it is good to be spontaneous at least twice. 

I wish I played violin. 

Wherever you are, be all there.  – Jim Elliot

What if the pastor, instead of preaching from the pulpit tomorrow, came down, sat on the edge of the stage, kicked his heels against it, and actually talked to you like you were people he knew?  (This won’t happen at my church because we’re having a visiting preacher tomorrow). 

To God be all glory,

Lisa of Longbourn

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A series of events led to this post. 

  1. My favorite radio station changed its schedule in a most unpleasant way. 
  2. The cassette player in my car got tired of my Steve Green tape, so I’m giving it a break. 
  3. Life is calm enough that I can pray and listen to music at the same time – sometimes. 
  4. I have been listening to the soundtrack for Beauty and the Beast, which I picked up for less than a dollar at a thrift store or garage sale. 

I don’t think the composers knew what they were doing when they made this soundtrack.  They made beautiful music, with skill that I probably don’t comprehend.  But they orchestrated a story, and characters, emotions, and virtues into this music.  My heart is more touched simply hearing the haunting instrumental tracks than by watching the movie.  Maybe because I’m not distracted by images with the sound, I can consider the thoughts of each character, the intensity of the moments.  Because the music is less bound in a setting, I think this can become my theme, too. 

Disney hit virtue, by some miracle, in Beauty and the Beast.  One of my favorite parts is the prologue.  Belle practices sacrifice.  Beast learns to love her selflessly and unconditionally.  Even when she risks his life by disobeying his instructions, entering the West Wing; when he is so angry that he frightens her out of her vow with a roar, he goes after her and risks his life for her to ward off wolves.  Each character is so fragile, yet confident.  And the song, Beauty and the Beast (tale as old as time) describes a sweet love story: both scared, neither prepared, both change, somebody bends…  As the trailer for the latest Pride and Prejudice said, “We are all fools in love.” 

Belle is smart.  She doesn’t settle.  Her father means a lot to her, even though he’s a little odd.  Even in a simple, everyday world, she dreams.  She is confident enough to carry herself well even in a grand palace.  Her heart is naturally grateful. 

Sixteen years ago this Thanksgiving, Beauty and the Beast had its theatrical release.  It was the first movie I purchased with my own money.  In fact I believe I went into the store on my own to buy it, as maybe a second-grader.  At that point I’m not even sure I’d seen the movie.  There was one Christmas when I spent an hour in Walmart trying to decide which version of the Belle Barbie doll to buy: normal Belle or wedding Belle.  I settled on normal and some ugly ballgown that was meant to double as the wedding dress I left behind. 

So many years and this is still a favorite, ranking right up there with the very long Pride and Prejudice.  I’m not ready to stop loving this movie, and I don’t like writing conclusions.  “The magic never ends.” 

To God be all glory,

Lisa of Longbourn

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