SOUNDING VOICES: The Civil Wars ~
SOUNDING VOICES - Our voice is one of the most powerful things we have to offer. It is unique to each of us - no one else can offer who you are, your story, or your point of view. But it is often a long, hard, lonely road to believing our voice matters. With this series I'll be posting about people I've encountered who have voices I believe the world needs to hear. It may be an author, a musical artist, visual artist, or any ordinary someone who is doing something simple or extraordinary.

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One of the best things about being a Nashvillian is all of the great new music that is available. I've heard a lot of new stuff but it wasn't until I heard The Civil Wars that I fell in love. We were lucky enough to stumble upon them earlier this summer and Corey and I have been addicted ever since. I was blown away by their soft and slow sound that brings you on a rich and soulful journey. Their combination is ethereal, intense, and deeply moving. Watching The Civil Wars brought tears to my eyes on both live encounters. I've learned to pay attention when those throat-tightening moments show up out of the blue and that's when I knew they were doing more than just playing music.

Joy Williams' voice has a hauntingly beautiful quality that carries you to another place. Together, Joy and John Paul White were able to take me from the reality of my uncomfortable bar stool to a place where the world disappeared and memory and hope danced free. After hearing Poison and Wine I had to gently wipe my eyes and look around to be reminded that I was not alone in that extraordinary moment.

You can check out The Civil Wars HERE where you can listen to their music and download a FREE live album! You simply must listen to Poison and Wine - video below. (I also highly recommend My Father's Father and their version of Sade's Ordinary Love.)

Oh, and they just posted that Poison and Wine is going to be featured in tomorrow night's episode of Grey's Anatomy. The Civil Wars don't even have an "official" album out yet! By this time tomorrow night they are going to be "the big time." And you can say you heard it here first, folks. These two are amazing.

Here's to sounding our voices ~ together.

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A NEW TIME ~
"Stress is often a perverted relationship with time."
John O'Donohue

Dear Time,

Time, oh elusive time... I know our relationship has been strained recently. I'm sure you've felt it too. I've noticed how you've been quick to change the subject and how you never stay in one place long enough to hold a real conversation. But it doesn’t need to be this way. Don’t worry, this isn't one of those awkward sixth-grade break-up letters. Nope. I'm in this thing with you but I think we need to seriously evaluate how we have been treating each other. I don't appreciate your wild and crazy antics, the pressure you pile on me, or the way you steal the one ounce of sanity I've got. And I'm sure you don't appreciate my quick temper, the out-of-the-blue breakdowns, or my bad attitude. And frankly, neither do I. Yet, I believe we can have a healthy relationship that’s full of grace. But it’s going to take some effort on both of our parts. First of all, I want to let you know that I forgive you. I forgive you for making me feel like I need to bow to your every move. I forgive you for making me feel like I belong to you. I forgive you for stealing my joy, my patience, my attention, my sense of worth, and that little slice of sanity I call my own. I just wanted to let you know that I will be taking those things back. However, my true hope is that I would be able to share them with you. I would love for you to help foster these things in me rather than crush them. How would you feel about working together instead of against each other? I no longer want to live in strong opposition to you. I want to embrace you, sweet Time, and live along side you rather than always feeling like I'm running to catch you. I really think we can be in this life together. What do you say, Time? I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Love,
Juli
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For Today ~
BEANNACHT / BLESSING
by John O'Donohue

On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.
And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you
and invisible cloak
to mind your life.
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LIFE IN ART ~
:: Becoming ::
08/2009

Life is always becoming. A colorful mixture of souls trying to mold and form hopes and dreams into a lived reality. It's a blending of life together with others around us, with God, and with our own true selves. This process can be beautiful, flowing, arduous, messy, mixing, often confusing, maybe dizzying, but always moving, always becoming. We are not alone. Others are doing the same. Creating their canvas, making their way. And the Spirit of the One Who Is moves and blesses as life takes shape and we continue to become who we were meant to be.
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HOME ~
"It all means more than I can tell you. So you must not judge what I know
by what I find words for."
~Marilynne Robinson (Gilead)

Nostalgia is a strange thing. Such a bittersweet taste of memories. A few weeks ago I took a road trip with the awesome Lindsey Mart to her new home in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. (that's Wis-caan-sin) Just being in the Midwest brought back a strange rush of feelings. It was so unexpected, so surreal. There is something about being in the Midwest that feels like home. Probably because it was my home for 21 years. The air is cleaner, crisper, like fresh sheets at the Westin. The grass is emerald green and so plush it begs you go barefoot. And the playful sky whispers an invitation to sit on your porch for the lightning show during a glorious Midwestern thunderstorm. It's just home. I'm not sure I can find the words for it. I just know it.

Out of nowhere, memories of a Minnesota-time-that-once-was were dancing around my mind. Riding my bike around the neighborhood, my daily walks across the mighty Mississippi at the University of Minnesota, driving past the Minneapolis skyline at night, playing cards and sock-wars, laughing. Oh the laughing. The deep down in your gut soul laughter that feels like you are flying. Then the sadness came. I don't know why... well, maybe I do. There are sad memories too. Hard things, heartache, demons I ran from all suddenly appeared out of nowhere. I'm not sure I can explain it. I just felt it.

Now, I'm home again in Nashville. Home. It's so much more than a word for me. I'm not sure I know where home is. My parents don't live in the town (or even the state) I grew up in, I haven't lived in Minnesota for 8 years, South Carolina never quite felt like home, and now I'm in a new place that I know I will be leaving after a few more months. Home.

Home is where I am. Home is being me. But I'm still longing for that place, that space. Still longing for being me. Corey reminded me a few weeks ago that some things are worth crying for. This feels like one of those times. Remembering the beauty of youth, the anguish of growing, the joy of the past, the dreams that were lost and the ones that yet live, the hope for home. I'm not sure I can describe it completely. I just know it is.

:: Coming Home::
04/2009

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