THE NASHVILLE TORNADO

Last night, I stepped out onto my front porch to watch a beautiful lightning storm pass over head. Within minutes, the sky turned black. Then I heard the warning sirens. In the distance, I saw powerful explosions light up the sky in flashes of bright green. Each burst of light revealed a massive funnel barreling towards me. The power went out. A moment later hail started coming down, debris flew through the air, and the sound of twisting metal and trees cracking echoed through my neighborhood.

The tornado hit fast and with such power that no one in the neighborhood had time to leave. All we could do was find cover and hope that this monstrous act of nature would leave us unharmed. My house began to rumble. I wondered if the roof could withstand the pressure. A moment later, nothing but eerie silence. I was safe. My house and car were unscathed, along with my animals and the other houses on my street.

Two blocks away was a completely different story. The Germantown neighborhood has been devastated by monstrous tornado. Broken glass, fallen trees, downed power lines, and splintered wood littered the streets. Buildings and businesses that once stood proudly were reduced to rubble; nothing more than piles of broken bricks and bent aluminum frames. Terrified and confused people roamed the streets surveying the damage, praying for loved ones throughout the city who might have also been caught in the path of the storm. Sirens echoed in every direction as lights from emergency vehicles painted the night sky in flashes of red and white.

The tornado left a wake of destruction across the city that is beyond words. Those whose lives were lost will, now, be honored by our solidarity in this time of grief. They will be remembered as we join together to share our love and our light with the broken hearted. We will honor them by rebuilding our beloved city. Today marks the first day of a new Nashville. New heros. New opportunities.

Pray for our city, but don’t pray with sorrow. Pray with strength; and faith in our people. Join us as we rise above tragedy and shine as a beacon of hope in this dark and beautiful world. A great man once said “There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear.”

SHATTERED

Life has a strange way of teaching us hard lessons. It seems that just as we begin to see the sun shine through, there is already another storm on the way. A never ending string of clouds that flow steadily throughout a journey that defines pleasure by showing us pain. The funny thing about rain storms - the metaphor, not the precipitation - is that, most times, we have a giant umbrella at our side, but forget all about it. Tonight, I forgot about my umbrella.

After packing up my car for a performance in Connecticut, my engineer and I drove off looking forward to a great performance (and some delicious food). 20 minutes into the journey I received a call from one of my neighbors, asking me if I had accidentally left a guitar case behind. When this realization set in, I was quite aggravated that I would be forced to turn around; making us over 40 minutes late to the gig. The aggravation left when she told me that the guitar case had been run over.

Hearing this, I knew my guitar was surely destroyed; a concert level, koi blue Taylor 614ce - an instrument of unparlled quality and style. When I arrived back home, I came to find my beauty in ruin. A giant Chevy pick up truck had driven over it, making splinters of the top, back, and sides of the guitar. It was clear that the instrument was lost. Years of making music and memories with it were now just an echo of the past.

When tragedy strikes, it’s easy to sulk. It’s easy to be angry at myself and think “If only I had double checked…” or “If only it hadn’t been so cold outside that night…” or any number of unattainable bargains. Some small part of me truly is upset about this, but when I look at the bigger picture I realize how blessed I am to have a problem this “insignificant”. I have everything I need to live: a roof over my head, food on my table, air in my lungs, and love for every day. 

I pride myself on encouraging those around me to view mistakes as a way to learn and to expand our limits; inner peace, knowledge, and perseverance. I subscribe to the notion that human beings have the sacred ability to find purpose in any situation. We can use the powers of creativity and perspective to gather insight and wisdom from each and every experience we have. I believe this with all of my heart, so on the car ride home I decided to take my own advice.

I began to think of all of the new possibilities and ways to push through this obstacle - this put my livelihood at risk because this guitar was used to earn a living. I began to think of this as something that would inspire me to go further; to push beyond what my imagination could NEVER have predicted happening to me (or my guitar). 

The moral of the story is this: When your world (or your guitar) gets shattered, it instantly presents the opportunity to find out how strong you really are. When we perceive the consequences of human error as an opportunity to soldier on, we never lose in any situation. Never forget that our human power comes from the same energy that fuels the stars; that our lives have endless potential, and that we can grow in leaps and bounds every single day. Once we commit to this, a string of storm clouds is transformed into a series of fortunate events - even if some begin with tragedy..  

If I know one thing about life, it’s that there is already another storm on its way. The umbrella is a metaphor for our own inner resources. Our attention to detail, ability to check twice, and resolve to weather any storm provides shelter and protection in a world where storm clouds fly freely. I may not know when, but when the next storm approaches I’ll be ready for it. Will you?

“I CHOOSE TO SEE”

Every day, after a night of endless dreams, my eyes open. Not because of some magic spell, but because my brain has sent an electrical impulse to my eye lids. 

Should I have denied this exchange, my eyes would have remained closed and I would have seamlessly slipped back into the world of my imagination; that deep corner of my mind where my inner thoughts fly free of the chains of consciousness.

In this place there are mountains of truth capped with snowy peaks of denial, valleys of fear veined with streams of “what ifs”, and an endless ocean of hopes and dreams.

What mysteries lie here, hidden just beneath the surface, waiting for the final stage of my sleep cycle to begin? 

But this morning, my brain sent an electrical impulse to my eye lids - and I received it.

I authorized this interruption of fantasy. 

Why? 

To be awake. To be conscious again. To be alive; resurrected from this underworld of figuritive language and code; conscious once again of my thoughts and actions; to be part of the material world; this brief existence we call life, filled to the top with questions.

This morning I opened my eyes in submission to my will to live;

My desire to experience everything this world has to offer.

To be… everything.

Nothing.

Happy.

Sad.

Thrilled.

Let down.

In love.

Crushed.

Beaten.

Exalted.

…and above all just to be. 

I open my eyes every morning without knowing if I will ever close them again; 

without knowing what they will see.

I open them without having the slightest idea what to look at, but knowing just to look.

Today, I open my eyes for everyone who cannot;

who will not.

Because I choose to see.