Tuesday, July 12, 2016


On the road today, staying in a beautiful home.  A wonderful place to rest and practice.  Walking in a nearby park, I came across four Native American Burial Mounds.  These simple, poignant, natural, mysterious and inevitable reminders of the one fear that always comes true - death.  As I pondered them, I was grateful for the life, opportunities, family, friends & love that fill my life.

After lunch I practiced a bit, then recalled the Burial Mounds.   Being open to the notes that might arise, I listened carefully as I played.  Might the notes wrap the shroud with respect.  A whisper arose and I followed gently.  Another whisper - somewhat surprised I trusted and followed further.  Could this be my humble tribute to these lives that passed?  To all life that will pass?  I made some notes as the whisper quieted and then I rested.

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