Time Signatures...

Last night, there was some magic. Some evolution of music and heart.
I sat in the same seat at the same bar and listened to the same songs sung by the same voice. The song she dedicated to me when she knew I needed it. The song I claimed as my theme song one month. A song that used to hit too close to home. It was like my musical life of the past six months flashing before my eyes. But the songs finally felt different. They made me smile and laugh and remember and roll my eyes and 'Amen' and beam some sort of empowerment.
Music is magical already. It makes us feel, sometimes even catching us by surprise. It buries its self deep within our sense memories. I've written a lot lately about how listening to music is different at different emotional life points. And last night, there it was. Sure, there were a few of those surprises... and still a few things that now hit even closer to home. I felt those moments. And I embraced them. Because the pit in my stomach apparently has this new iron lining, and I heard everything through a filter of strength. Relating to 100 sad songs does not make me sad; it makes me real.
That was the music. And then there were the people. And the thoughts. I like to play this game that goes: "If this shit hadn't happened, then this wouldn't have happened, and then this wonderful thing never would have happened." It tends to bring me this incredible peace about the ups and downs of that thing called life. I wasn't intending to play last night. But then I looked more closely at the two beautiful people next to me. I smiled to myself--to think, I met them in that dark kitchen at 3am. Ha.
And there it was: If I hadn't gotten robbed, I wouldn't have run there that night.
(I would have played it cool, and I wouldn't have been invited to.)
Sure, I might know them very casually. But not like this. She has been such a source of strength and peace and instant, unconditional friendship. And it's all because a man reached into my pocket because he saw me send a text to the friend whose place I was going to about the number of pigeons on the el platform.
My mind did all this wandering under the music last night, and I found myself feeling grateful for the man who robbed me and led me to that kitchen.
I think my new favorite game is "If I never get anything else out of _____, at least I got _______." So--if I never get anything else out of (it), I got these two dear friends who even show up to gigs. And I got an album. And you know what? When life is this beautiful, I honestly don't understand how anyone can think less optimistically than that. Why let a drop roll down your cheek when you can let it roll off your back?