"It is impossible to achieve the aim without suffering."- J.G. Bennett

The praise we can give by words or physical actions are too small, so these praises find an alternate route to escape into the air.
If to be humbled is what one seeks then they will recieve it.
Listening is just as important as speaking. How quickly things change with "what are you doing this afternoon? Can you be here by 2:30?". How could it change so fast? It's beyond me and mine is not to reason why. But if a fellow player has a request such as that, it is my honor to recieve it and dive into whatever could happen with childlike abandon. This approach should be a life goal as well, now that the childlike abandonment is harder to attain as a result of aging.
Assuming the role as a musician is too daunting for me and much too high a degree of being for me to brand myself with. One can't make Music happen, one can only make a way for it to happen and then it will happen if it pleases. David spoke great words to me today. If only I could remember what they were, but in a nutshell his idea was theory is only an attempt to approach something that is unapproachable. This comment was directed toward human reason trying to make sense out of something as unattainable as the act of Music. The best thing a student could hope to learn from theory is the ability to forget it. To internalize it. If knowledge is not internalized it is not true understanding, it is only passing.
Beginning early afternoon today there was a sense of something. After many many weeks of being away from truth, it decided to show itself again. How and why I don't have the slightest clue, but again, mine is not to reason why and I'd rather not know. The truth of that truth would be too much to bear.
By the grace of God five men were able to allow Music to happen by listening, complimenting, and supporting one another in their common aim.

A woman came up to my father after he preached this morning and told him she saw an enormous angel standing behind him as he spoke. At the same time at a different place my sister felt a weight on her heart to pray for him, but she didn't know why, or for what purpose. I'm not sure why he was protected in this way. None of us know, but higher authority governed it, and again, ours is not to reason why.
My hands and my spirit told me to practice tonight, and I didn't know why. Practical thinking lead me to believe that I had played enough for one day, but this had nothing to do with "enough" or practicality. My mind formed chords and told them to my hands and I listened. They created short melodies and told them to my hands and I listened. They realized structure and I listened. But then my spirit felt something and told it to my mind. My mind saw it and told it to my hands. My hands knew it and finally allowed it. A sense of something followed. My eyes remained shut and my hands continued on, but they were not saying what they wanted to say, they were saying what that something had to say. Time must have passed but I was not aware of it. Such is any experience with truth. That sense of something was enternal, like it had been there thousands of years. It probably has, and it finally passed through me. Silence was the most respect I could offer it afterward. So I sat. Praise to the one who first saw this happen, who created it, and who presented it to me for those few minutes.
He who catches joy; it flies.