A riff referred to any imaginative improvised melody. In Jazz, a riff is a repeated phrase or melody. In the past six months there have been many riffs that are filled with painful emotions as well as physical manifestations. These riffs would continue until I created a break in my response to that pain. It has become very enlightening. Not feeling physically good varies from day to day sending riffs of pain that have become a part of living with breast cancer. I am learning to accept it as a part of life. Now I respond very quickly. . Now ask myself, am I maintaining my integrity? Do I do what I say I am going to do and respect and recognize other’s boundaries? Do I ask for forgiveness? That has been something that has been on my mind and proven to be very liberating. . I find comfort being alone with my heart. The solitude awakens me to finding nuances in the melody and the finer points my existence..
I have been running from painful riffs most of my life. Now I respond differently with God’s grace to open my heart and mind to the beauty that surrounds me. Beneath the lush green grass beats a heart that is uniquely mine. Changing the riff to a melody that is set to a different rhythm allows me to get into a groove that is healing and transforms my soul. Not letting the well-meaning gardeners disrupt my balance and groove. My center is dynamic and dependent upon the connection to that sacred space. It is within as well as surrounds me in a golden light that is only shadowed by painful memories. But those memories are just signs and guideposts of where I need to look in order to find my true center. I am listening to the Man from Monterey I am looking toward Monterey….I am remembering 1965. It was a year full of racial tension, misfortune and misery ringing out. I have no agenda. My soul speaks and inspires me to share my experiences and dreams. I realize I have spent most of my life-giving everything away. I just wanna keep the rest for myself. Life is tragic when you have not lived your dreams.. I have mindlessly taken the path of least resistance which drowned out all connections I have to my truth. The glorious part of 1965 when I was 11 was that was the year that Jazz provided the ambience for my soul. It was safe, it was impenetrable and had washed away the misery that was blazing through the souls and streets of civility, compassion and love. I am still in search of my home. Where my heart can sing praises to living the life I waited my whole life for. Some folks say that you cannot live anywhere in Northern California, but, it is more than a trend or whim, it is something that has been calling me. I have given in so often, but, I will know if that is true when I feel I have exhausted every possible source, door, window and opening that is presented to me. Tomorrow is one big fulfillment of my dream. And now I am more accepting which makes the harshness of reality a discomfort rather than a barrier. What more can anyone ask? I am jazzed and ready to hear sounds that resonate with my soul. This is going to be a then and now for me. I hope you swing by and check out upcoming posts. So just for today, I am looking forward — all I see and feel is a joy and sense of wellbeing when I am writing with jazz as my muse filling my heart and soul with a love supreme. See you there! How about you? What would be your muse? What are the riffs you have changed? Peace Out!
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