Sunday, May 12, 2013

new day

Music never sounds better to me than it does on a Sunday morning. If it's the right kind of Sunday, I can carry the feeling through until the afternoon. There's something so clean about it; like the old week has ended and the new one begun, unblemished.

Sunday morning is for soul music, and for country, which I realise is very like soul in its essence and feeling. Sunday is for Billie Holiday, and Dylan covers. They make me feel like I'm at church; in listening, I acknowledge my weaknesses and needs, and then I feel connection to everyone else in those basic human states. They make me think about cleaning, and cooking, and sitting quietly, and being outside, and eating apples, and taking my shoes off. They make me feel like I'm here, in my body, and on the earth, in ways both significant and insignificant.

I think I'm beginning to understand my own religion. I have rituals, and symbols. I feel close to the world, and separate from it, aware of my mortality, and at peace with that awareness. I can show what I want from life with a simple action, and I don't have to rationalise. I can just feel.

The world is at it's best on a Sunday.

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