Just a Few Notes (& Angels in the Trees)

On singing (and a lullaby) — from a housewife’s journal

Last night I sang this little made-up song, or something much like it, to the younger kids. I sang it to the tune of “Eidelweiss” [link below]. I often do this kind of impromptu jingling, but it felt very good to sing this one, so I’ll jot it down here, to the best of my memory:

Angels in the trees,
Angels in the trees,
Every morning you greet, me;

Soft and bright,
Rainbow light;
You look happy to meet, me!

Angel of light
You are here tonight
Here, tonight, to keep me;

Oh, angels in the trees,
Angels in the trees,
I’m so grateful you’re with, me!

___

Imperfect, yes. But after I sang it, the kids went to sleep. (The first attempt at bedtime had been unsuccessful. That had been with “Papa.” So there are some things that even “Papa” fails at. Though they be wonderfully/irritatingly few.)

On synergy and editing process

Someone named Alice (who posts captivating images accompanied by stories in Portuguese; do check them out, you can use Google Translate to read them) had digitally highlighted an older piece on Medium I’d written about my mother, and the notification triggered by the highlighting caused me to go back and read it, and then also read a few of my old pieces on a different, privately published blog. I made some quick, minor edits here, there and everywhere, now that I had the distance to see the big picture more clearly. I killed a few darlings. “Music rises up in my mother like bubbles in a mountain stream” had to go, in the piece on Medium, for example.

Anyway, something good and unusual happened: I felt happy about all my work. Very happy indeed. I looked upon my work and saw that it was good. Regardless of what T or J or G or I or anyone critical thought of my work, or of me, and/or the fact that I was doing it. I had done it, was still doing it and would continue to do it, and I thought it was good. And that was all that mattered.

On criticism

The made-up lullaby was based on a piece I wrote about a tree, a while back. At the time I wrote that piece I was in a writing group with two other people. One turned out to be a soul sister and the other turned out to be someone whose opinion I highly valued, yet my most vocal critic to date. The soul sister gave encouragement and very helpful advice on how to modify a few things, and the critic gave commentary that ultimately prevented me from publishing the piece at the time.

In the end, the critic has been as helpful as the soul sister, in that I learned a lot about resilience in the face of dealing with criticism. The critic therefore helped me overcome my worst artistic fear (feeling criticized, unappreciated, misunderstood and perhaps even disliked) which is a gift that cannot be overrated. (I mean, that is underrated — Sreudian flip. Gosh-darned double negatives. Or negated positives. Or posated negatives. What do I mean? I hope you know what I mean. My meaning seems clear enough to me. Is that all that matters? Perhaps not.)

At any rate, I now look back upon that piece and see that it was good enough the way it was, for the stage I was at, with just the minor suggestions made by my soul sister to help it along. I could have published it then. But I was not ready. I was very attached to it since it basically attempted to outline aspects of my truest soul, and all that was important to me. And because back then, I had a terrifying fear of publishing anything imperfect. It described what I had found in a single moment, which had previously been lost (in a gradual, non-dramatic way) over a lifetime.

How many times have I given criticism that stopped others from publishing, or otherwise moving forward with their plans? I hope that in the end it only made them stronger, as I feel criticism has made me. And that they shall eventually “hit publish,” when ready.

“Blossom of snow, may you bloom and grow.” – Rodgers and Hammerstein


____

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Nadine inhales & exhales words & images from current vantage point in Zone of Emptiness, France. If you wish to contribute and/or show appreciation, please recommend/like and/or comment — or feel free to send a quick email via the contact page. Thank you for reading. 🖤

 

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