Month: March 2014

Snow was a good start, Big Guy. Soli deo gloria.

Posted on by lauraanneayres

It’s 11PM in my little village in Switzerland. I had a D-A-Y.

I have been begging God for snow for months. MONTHS. During this time, I wrote a poem about snow, it was set to music (holla Jackson Henry), I sang said new song “Snow” at a concert 3 weeks ago. Here’s the annoying part…

This part of Switzerland has been snow-less. Literally, I haven’t seen snow for months here. I chased snow a few weeks ago and found nothing. Every time I say, “I just want one good snow,” someone inevitably says, “You’ll have to go to the snow because it’s done for this year.” What is truly annoying about this line? Many of these people either own chalets or take rather physically-demanding ski tours in the same way I take baths. It is easy for them to say “go to the snow.”

I can’t go to the snow. The snow requires me to climb or snowshoe or do something. My back hurts 80% of the time I am awake. I’m lucky to make it, by train and bus, to my church. I can go out once a day for a few hours.

Don’t cry for me Argentina. Anyway, today, with the hurt back (it was KILLING me this morning), I went to church this morning. Before I left, it was really cold and raining. I told God, “Whatever. It’s cold, but that is rain.” This is a conversation I have with Him almost everyday (sunny days, “Whatever, I get it. No more snow.” foggy days, “To cover up the possibility of some snow? Very funny.” etc.).

Anyway, while I was at church, I said something to God I have never said before because it’s a really difficult time right now, for many reasons:

Please stop. Everything hurts. Please remember that I am your child. I am faithful. Please stop hurting me. Be with me.

I’m not kidding. I couldn’t kneel because it makes my back hurt. I bent one knee and sort of semi-leaned over. I said I was thankful for strong legs, a strong spirit, and a strong heart. I prayed for a few people (including Nicole’s Tito, Iryna’s country, Liv’s next project, Marisa’s new job, N’s heart, Cindy’s new journey without John, and some others). Then, I said what I said about myself.

Regardless of the back “situation,” I went to Bibiana and gave her a fresh rose and a candle. I got on a bus and I traveled home. Within about 30 minutes, there was a serious hail storm. My FB status changed to, “HAIL IS NOT SNOW!”

I started up work on my ongoing project (translating the brochure for the Hospice from German/French to English). About five minutes after I sat down,  I looked at the window.

“Slowly formed, something more…not a storm, just some flakes.”

It wasn’t an angry hailstorm anymore, and it wasn’t rain.

It was snow. After months of no snow. I turned off external things and I’ve been sitting for hours without sound. “As it shimmers and glistens, we stop and listen…what if snow never came? What if love never paused? To make a moment when the snow covered us all.”

I’m still mad at You. Really mad. But, it’s 11PM and You’re still here and it’s still snowing.

Soli deo gloria.

Am I disposable? Are you?

Posted on by lauraanneayres

I am profoundly struck by Pope Francis’ recent remarks, “Young people at the moment are in crisis. We have all become accustomed to this disposable culture. We do the same thing with the elderly…they are afflicted by a culture where everything is disposable. We have to stop this habit of throwing things away. We need a culture of inclusion.”

Have we all, young and old, become an “i-generation” that is focused primarily on disposing of everything easily?

Let’s think about things that are disposable: razorblades, diapers, tires. Yes, they are easy to throw away and that is convenient. But, where do they go when they’ve been disposed of? I mean, it all goes somewhere, right? One of the many things I love about Switzerland, they make it hard and expensive for you to dispose of “trash.” Well done.

As disturbing as our “I have to dispose of this thing easily” fixation is, the extension of this desire to toss that which is not immediately necessary is truly shocking: people are also disposable.

I get in a fight with someone? I delete them from my FB page, Twitter followers, contact list. I’m annoyed with another person? I ignore phone calls and emails. I am having a hard time, so I don’t ask a follow-up to the answer, “I’m alright, I guess.” I’m busily running to work? I cut through a crowd of people like a knife through butter…who cares if I ran into a guy with a broken arm. He’ll survive.

Because people are disposable. Their feelings, their pursuits of happiness, their future plans…their very lives. Look at a newspaper. In today’s newspaper in Zürich: a 3-year old was shot by the Mafia in Rome, a plane full of human beings disappeared in thin air, Ukrainians are fighting for their very lives, and five other awful stories revolving around human suffering as the world watches.

It all points to a bigger issue – one that is truly terrifying in 2014 (we should be well-educated, well-aware) – we are disposing of other people.  It’s medieval, a human as a pawn to get me what I want or as a shield to protect me from something that’s scaring or attacking me. That chess piece? is a person – someone’s son or daughter. Let that sink in.

I used to have a weekly visit with a homeless man that lived in under a bridge in Luzern. I called him “Herbert” because I never could get him to clearly state his name and it was one of those “Shit, it’s been months now and I’m too embarrassed to ask him again” scenarios. 8 times out of 10, Herbert was asleep or passed out, but I’d always leave him a coffee and croissant. When he was awake or semi-sober, he called me his Engeli. I think “Herbert” is in my book, by the way. Anyway, he disappeared one day. After a year under the same bridge, living on the same bench. I think he must have felt disposable, but he wasn’t disposable to me. That was 3 years ago and I still think of Herbert at least three times a week.

It’s inhumane to think of another person’s life like we think of a piece of trash or to call someone’s death “collateral damage.” It is a slippery slope between the decision to ignore a person’s suffering and the decision to disregard that person’s life entirely.

What if the person you’re ignoring could be made better by one chat over coffee? What if the iPhone you just threw away could be refurbished and sent to a small village in Africa? Is that a huge imposition? What if a weekly “hello” to a homeless man ends up being the last time someone said “hello” to him? Still think it’s okay to consider another person as “disposable” or have I convinced you that people and things are not disposable yet?

It’s not a Christian or Jewish or gay or straight or black or white issue to me. It’s a humanitarian one. People are not disposable and neither are razorblades or iPhones or books. Anything that has been created is a part of creation and has a space on this Earth. As the Pope said, we must start to reflect on and acknowledge the intrinsic value of creation. Maybe that’s a start.

 

Allerseelen by Strauss

Posted on by lauraanneayres

Former President George H. W. Bush had good, practical advice about public speaking under emotionally-challenging circumstances. When he had to speak at the funeral once, he read the speech over and over again, attempting to pull the emotional attachment out of the words. When I heard that story, I thought it was a good idea, but not particularly brave (no disrespect). I think it’s a hell of a lot braver to be real and real people get choked up.

There was a song on my concert last week called “Allerseelen.” It’s about a couple and they have clearly been through the ringer (By the way, what this story is not about…is a dead person…and somewhere in Steiermark, a dashing, white-haired German poet is screaming, “ENDLICH.”):

Put the flowers on the table and let’s talk about love, like we used to. Give me your hand, I’ll hold it in secret. If someone sees? I don’t give a damn! Give me just one more of your sweet looks. Everything is new and fresh again – there is one day every year when even the dead come back to life – come back to me! I need you back, my love! The way we used to be. How we used to be.

Any smart singer in my situation would avoid this song like the plague. I have rarely performed it in public since 2011 without crying a little bit because it reminds me of, well, my own “sweet look”er. When I began preparation for the Hospice benefit, I found it in my “old recitals” folder. “Allerseelen” is my song. It is set by Strauss (who writes for my voice type), it is in German (liebe the German), text is amazing (I’m a nerd) and it has breathtaking piano & vocal marriage.

If the concert in honor of the Hospice was going to be my best, I needed to sing it. My “sweet look”er has never attended one of my concerts and doesn’t particularly like opera anyway. If I did cry, it would be minimal and not ugly Oprah cry (with snot). The song went on the program. Easy.

Nope. In the telenovela that is my life, my “sweet look”er would attend the concert and stand in my eye line throughout the entire concert, including during “Allerseelen,” which I was singing to him, though he didn’t know it and thankfully never will because he never reads this blog.

Papa Bush is right. It is hard to sing or speak when you cry or when you are seriously attached to the text (in an emotional way). It might make the message more about you and less about the message.

But, for my “sweet look”er and the hell we have been put through? Well, it was worth that tear, that lump in the throat possibly coming in. It wasn’t easy for him to come to the concert and it wasn’t easy for me to sing (see previous post). We were both brave last Sunday and the result is that I didn’t cry during “Allerseelen” because it was our song and I was singing it to him. It wasn’t sad, it was beautiful.

Ein Tag im Jahr ist ja den Toten frei, komm an mein Herz, dass ich dich wieder habe, wie einst im Mai.

Wie einst im Mai, indeed.

 

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