don't take ANY of it for granted...

Today I practiced with my Famous Brother, Hal, some new songs for our upcoming gigs and then completed the songbook for my L'Arche community sisters and brothers in Ottawa. Tomorrow, my little man, Louie, starts kindergarten and we prepare to be away for a week celebrating the 46th anniversary of L'Arche Ottawa. A few thoughts... I remember like it was last month when Louie's momma went off to kindergarten.

... our other precious daughter is on a sojourn into the highlands of Scotland - and I am missing her mightily.

... last night on Facebook I saw this picture of my sisters and brothers at L'Arche Mountainview - and my heart ached to be with them.

... playing music today took me through decades of feelings as Hal and I worked on my prayerful version of Lou Reed's "Sweet Jane" among other great tunes.

... and for those paying attention, the weather is clearly shifting to fall as autumn is in the air in this corner of the woods. 

Reading this poem late last night put this wistful day into perspective. Please, beloved, as hard as it can be: don't take any of it for granted.

What You Missed That Day You Were Absent from Fourth Grade
BY BRAD AARON MODLIN

Mrs. Nelson explained how to stand still and listen
to the wind, how to find meaning in pumping gas,

how peeling potatoes can be a form of prayer. She took
questions on how not to feel lost in the dark.

After lunch she distributed worksheets
that covered ways to remember your grandfather’s

voice. Then the class discussed falling asleep
without feeling you had forgotten to do something else—

something important—and how to believe
the house you wake in is your home. This prompted

Mrs. Nelson to draw a chalkboard diagram detailing
how to chant the Psalms during cigarette breaks,

and how not to squirm for sound when your own thoughts
are all you hear; also, that you have enough.

The English lesson was that I am
is a complete sentence.

And just before the afternoon bell, she made the math equation
look easy. The one that proves that hundreds of questions,

and feeling cold, and all those nights spent looking
for whatever it was you lost, and one person

add up to something.