Travel to Europe, Sailing/hiking/biking to a new adventure, summer music concerts @ night near the ocean or Celtic music anytime
Staying at a bed & breakfast & cross country skiing in the mountains, Spring time & Spending time with family and friends. Oh and spending time with my precious grand dogs!!
When being with friends, sharing a meal, playing cards, being together and share what shows up; music does, meditation does sometimes. When walking along the beautiful riverside, like today. When creativity flows.
I am reflecting on this. I know that certain people and situations make me feel especially “alive”, but I also suspect that it is something internal as well. I can think of my daughter–definitely–and some particular friends and family, but managing those relationships can become draining. Sometimes being by myself helps me recharge, but that can feel isolating as well. I love walking past the park by my house. That might be the single best answer that comes to mind.
There are many things that make me feel alive.
Redwood Trees.
Long walks, especially in the chilly air.
Flowers.
Walks @ the beach with the Pacific surf pounding the shore.
The Moon. Stars.
Art Museums.
Music.
A good cup of Coffee!!!
I am a bit of a sad sack this morning…so having trouble with this question. Kevin posted a link about a young man, Nicholas McCarthy – a one handed pianist…Amazing young man. His motto is “Never Give Up”. I think I need to put that motto into action today.
His music made me remember that music is one of the things in life that does make me feel most alive. I had forgotten!! My husband and I do not share a common genre of music…so presently I am not listening to much. We are traveling for the winter in our motorhome and there is not much space to be an individual! But I did put ear buds in and enjoyed some morning classical music played by Nicholas! What a gift. So once again…a great question- to make me stop and think. Wishing everyone a very good day.
I think just getting up in the morning! Music, laughter, children, the taste of different foods, colors, a suspense book or movie. I guess a lot of things!
I wrote the reflection below in 2012 when I was 70 and still singing and performing. Various health issues have made using my voice for performance impossible but I still ‘sing in the shower’ as the saying goes. I share what I wrote because it is how I can best express what has always made me feel most alive.
My Body…My Musical Instrument
As a preschooler, I used to lose track of time and be lifted to such a sense of wholeness by music that I just sang all the time. When I was three I would sit in my little rocking chair on the front porch and just sing my heart out. One day, I actually rocked right off of the porch. I didn’t realize the rocking chair was moving precariously toward the three foot drop. I was lost in song.
For a singer the body is the instrument. That instrument has always been my strongest connection to feeling alive. I sang at such a young age, singing is part of my earliest memories. I sang in high school and college choirs; church choirs; community choirs and in community theatre productions. I even did a stint as a blues singer on Bourbon Street in New Orleans.
Music is a universal language and I have such fond memories of people my voice brought into my life. My high school choir director, my various voice teachers, especially 70 year old Louis Panzeri in his coke-bottle eye glasses telling me that learning vocal technique was for the classroom but interpretation rules the stage. “Let your whole body sing.” Whatever technique it has mastered will be present to support the vulnerability your interpretation of the lyrics triggers.
The audiences have shown their appreciation in words, notes, gestures, and life-lifting applause. I remember performing in a mental institution. A young woman approached me after the performance with tears streaming down her face. “I have not been able to cryand my counselor says I needed to cry. When you sang, I was able to cry.”
I remember an elderly gentleman, confined to a wheelchair, in a home called, “The Home for the Incurables.” He took my hand as I moved among the residents singing a love song. I stopped moving and sang to him. I don’t know what he got from my gesture but I can still feel the warmth of his hand and see his face.
In every major crisis in my life, singing has helped me cope: using my whole body to express my feelings, breathing in and singing out, swaying, playing my pain in the texture of my tone. Smiling with my voice, crying with my voice, pleading with my voice, sighing, accepting with each note whatever reality has come to visit.
In 1998, I faced surgery. They would make an incision in the front of my neck, move my esophagus and my windpipe to the side, to place a metal plate on the front of my cervical spine. There was a chance they would damage the nerve to my vocal chords. If I did sing again, my range would be compromised. My whole body reacted. Would I sing again?
Things have never been the same. I have had to grieve my loss. Even so, I am filled with gratitude to my body for becoming a musical instrument in which Life sang through me to me and allowed me to touch so many other lives.
I believe our bodies to be our greatest gift. After all, without them, where would we live?
Carol, What a life story. Thank you for sharing. I only wish I had been able to hear you sing!! What a gift you were given…and how much you gave back to people. God Bless and Keep you, my friend.
What a story. Thanks for sharing. We heard a big band orchestra yesterday and watched some beautiful dancers. Their bodies, too, are instruments. My body is still vibrating. It is alive.
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The fresh air, and the mountains, free from any worries or sadness just alive and revitalised by the air, views and wilderness
My Happiness
Tasty food prepared by loved ones. And, sharing the first bite 🙂
Me being with my boyfriend and just relaxing with nothing to worry abut
Travel to Europe, Sailing/hiking/biking to a new adventure, summer music concerts @ night near the ocean or Celtic music anytime
Staying at a bed & breakfast & cross country skiing in the mountains, Spring time & Spending time with family and friends. Oh and spending time with my precious grand dogs!!
When being with friends, sharing a meal, playing cards, being together and share what shows up; music does, meditation does sometimes. When walking along the beautiful riverside, like today. When creativity flows.
You think you know what you are looking for until what you are looking for finds you.
I am reflecting on this. I know that certain people and situations make me feel especially “alive”, but I also suspect that it is something internal as well. I can think of my daughter–definitely–and some particular friends and family, but managing those relationships can become draining. Sometimes being by myself helps me recharge, but that can feel isolating as well. I love walking past the park by my house. That might be the single best answer that comes to mind.
There are many things that make me feel alive.
Redwood Trees.
Long walks, especially in the chilly air.
Flowers.
Walks @ the beach with the Pacific surf pounding the shore.
The Moon. Stars.
Art Museums.
Music.
A good cup of Coffee!!!
For me, I think awareness makes me feel most alive while not mentally in the past or the future. The stop and look part.
Music!!
I am a bit of a sad sack this morning…so having trouble with this question. Kevin posted a link about a young man, Nicholas McCarthy – a one handed pianist…Amazing young man. His motto is “Never Give Up”. I think I need to put that motto into action today.
His music made me remember that music is one of the things in life that does make me feel most alive. I had forgotten!! My husband and I do not share a common genre of music…so presently I am not listening to much. We are traveling for the winter in our motorhome and there is not much space to be an individual! But I did put ear buds in and enjoyed some morning classical music played by Nicholas! What a gift. So once again…a great question- to make me stop and think. Wishing everyone a very good day.
I think just getting up in the morning! Music, laughter, children, the taste of different foods, colors, a suspense book or movie. I guess a lot of things!
I wrote the reflection below in 2012 when I was 70 and still singing and performing. Various health issues have made using my voice for performance impossible but I still ‘sing in the shower’ as the saying goes. I share what I wrote because it is how I can best express what has always made me feel most alive.
My Body…My Musical Instrument
As a preschooler, I used to lose track of time and be lifted to such a sense of wholeness by music that I just sang all the time. When I was three I would sit in my little rocking chair on the front porch and just sing my heart out. One day, I actually rocked right off of the porch. I didn’t realize the rocking chair was moving precariously toward the three foot drop. I was lost in song.
For a singer the body is the instrument. That instrument has always been my strongest connection to feeling alive. I sang at such a young age, singing is part of my earliest memories. I sang in high school and college choirs; church choirs; community choirs and in community theatre productions. I even did a stint as a blues singer on Bourbon Street in New Orleans.
Music is a universal language and I have such fond memories of people my voice brought into my life. My high school choir director, my various voice teachers, especially 70 year old Louis Panzeri in his coke-bottle eye glasses telling me that learning vocal technique was for the classroom but interpretation rules the stage. “Let your whole body sing.” Whatever technique it has mastered will be present to support the vulnerability your interpretation of the lyrics triggers.
The audiences have shown their appreciation in words, notes, gestures, and life-lifting applause. I remember performing in a mental institution. A young woman approached me after the performance with tears streaming down her face. “I have not been able to cryand my counselor says I needed to cry. When you sang, I was able to cry.”
I remember an elderly gentleman, confined to a wheelchair, in a home called, “The Home for the Incurables.” He took my hand as I moved among the residents singing a love song. I stopped moving and sang to him. I don’t know what he got from my gesture but I can still feel the warmth of his hand and see his face.
In every major crisis in my life, singing has helped me cope: using my whole body to express my feelings, breathing in and singing out, swaying, playing my pain in the texture of my tone. Smiling with my voice, crying with my voice, pleading with my voice, sighing, accepting with each note whatever reality has come to visit.
In 1998, I faced surgery. They would make an incision in the front of my neck, move my esophagus and my windpipe to the side, to place a metal plate on the front of my cervical spine. There was a chance they would damage the nerve to my vocal chords. If I did sing again, my range would be compromised. My whole body reacted. Would I sing again?
Things have never been the same. I have had to grieve my loss. Even so, I am filled with gratitude to my body for becoming a musical instrument in which Life sang through me to me and allowed me to touch so many other lives.
I believe our bodies to be our greatest gift. After all, without them, where would we live?
Carol, What a life story. Thank you for sharing. I only wish I had been able to hear you sing!! What a gift you were given…and how much you gave back to people. God Bless and Keep you, my friend.
Nannette, Your words are deeply appreciated.
I am lost for words here, Carol. Stunning, beautiful…thank you!
Kevin, The responses I have received have left me with a loss for words. I am blessed.
Carol, thank you for sharing your bittersweet story. God bless You. Thank you for uplifting so many including me. ❤️
PKR, Your response uplifts me.
Thank you for sharing this beautiful story, Carol. You really touched my heart 🎶💙
Christine, And you have touched mine many times.
I can relate to your stary, Carol. As we get older we must greive our losses but try not become overwhelmed in that grief ❤️
Butterfly, So very true. I had a hard time with this one but writing about it helped me realize that the memories I carry were and are a gift.
Just gorgeous! I thank you for sharing your story!
Ana Maria, You are most welcome.
What a beautiful, powerful story,
dear Carol…
I am deeply moved
with love…
sparrow ♥
Ah! Sparrow, sending you a big hug!
What a story. Thanks for sharing. We heard a big band orchestra yesterday and watched some beautiful dancers. Their bodies, too, are instruments. My body is still vibrating. It is alive.
YRAM, I love going to concerts and hearing music live. Good for you!
Being in nature. A brisk morning walk after a rain was very refreshing this morning.