Wednesday, June 16, 2010

The Lowest Octave

We'd returned from my MMA class, and taken out the recycling. I sat in my favorite chair as my children chattered over Club Penguin on the computer. It's now in the forefront of my mind that they leave for their trip to Florida with their dad in just a short while.

That hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach, I often misinterpret for hunger. But today, I chose activity. As I put my laundry in my closet, I reached for my flute. It's been a while since I've picked it up, but it seemed like the thing to do.

I switched from the clarinet to the flute in high school (for purely practical reasons! The flute players could wear gloves during the cold New England football season!). Yet, it has been what I've reached for more often than not.

I sat at the edge of my bed, and began playing. I had no set intention at that point, until I heard a melody - "Here I am to worship. Here I am to bow down. Here I am to say that You're my God". From there, I became a little more directed. Typically, when I pick up the flute, I just let it play. Most often in the lowest octave.

It's my favorite "zone" to play in. Deep, mellow tones that resonate with the feeling in my gut.

Of course, I come back to the running melodies of a tune I played with the chorus in high school - an octave lower than I did then - it's one of my favorite things to let run off my fingers.

And then I came full circle - back to where I started.

"Here I am to worship. Here I am to bow down. Here I am to say that You're my God...."

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