Fearless

The world is beautiful

and you are wonderful.

I see people shrinking

in towns–waiting; wasting.

To say it’s a judgement

to speak the truth

would confine the youth

from breaking loose.

So here’s some truth,

for the hopeless few:

The world is vast,

yet you know your past.

Frozen, afraid, and doubtful

you’ll last

You stay awake in your slumber

The years turning to numbers.

You know you waste

and yet make no haste.

Quick! Get out! Go!

You are your greatest foe.

Be strong–

No one else has your heart.

If you shrink now

who will do your part?

Drip

Sweat dropped down Her back as She inhaled the sweetness of a crowd of hundreds of people.

She knew the day would come and She knew She would be the result of such chaos and excitement.

Appreciation, celebration–for the evolution and brilliance in music.

A can of beer burst open spraying the small crowd in the center and aggressive laughter dominoed. Everyone turned to see a group of frat boys with red faces dripping in beer.

The crowd was

Massive.

Like walking through an explosion of people. The stage was the rocket and everyone wanted on.

She stood tall and pointed at the crowd speaking into the microphone welcoming the students, faculty, and staff.

Someone disrupted Her welcome with a yell and everyone turned to see a student standing in a tree. He danced around and some people laughed.

But the explosion was still happening, and the rocket would soon take off, so they turned their attention back to Her.

She started the countdown and they waited…

They didn’t know but She built that rocket ship…

And in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 the artists entered the stage and the show took off.

It was a moment to stop and appreciate the ones who take life and words and instruments and synchronicity and passion and pain and create…

MUSIC

A moment to celebrate the victory and loss of human life crafted together by a community of often underrepresented groups of people (the musicians, the artists, the lyricists, the songwriters, the creators, the hearts, the minds).

These people are the ones we build the rocket ships (stages) for and it’s them who take us to the stars.


“Music is a core human experience and generative processes reflect cognitive capabilities. Music is often functional because it is something that can promote human well-being by facilitating human contact, human meaning, and human imagination of possibilities, tying it to our social instincts. Cognitive systems also underlie musical performance and sensibilities. Music is one of those things that we do spontaneously, reflecting brain machinery linked to communicative functions, enlarged and diversified across a broad array of human activities. Music cuts across diverse cognitive capabilities and resources, including numeracy, language, and space perception. In the same way, music intersects with cultural boundaries, facilitating our “social self” by linking our shared experiences and intentions.

This draws us together and, as a social species, remains essential to us; a chorus of expression in being with others, that fundamental feature of our life and of our evolutionary ascent. Music is indeed, as Timothy Blanning noted, a grand “triumph” of the human condition, spanning across cultures to reach the greatest of heights in the pantheon of human expression, communication, and well-being. It is in everything (Cross, 1999; Huron, 2001).”

– Kelsey Jo

…Dedicated to The Man on The Stage…


The quoted statement above was taken from an article on the Frontiers Media SA website titled “The Evolution of Music and Human Social Capability”, written by Jay Schulkin and Greta B. Raglan (also both being the primary researchers).

Here is a link to the article:

https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fnins.2014.00292/full

Legacy

He stared forward. Unbroken focus and serious eyes meant I had better listen.

UNFORGETABLE would be his next words.

The conversation felt more vital to my existence than air.

Become a legend and leave a legacy.

That’s all that consumed my thoughts at one point in my life.

Now restore swirled around, above, below, and within my heart.

What need I restore anyway? I didn’t know. I only knew something need to be brought back to a better state.

His question broke the air,

“Are you prepared to die for it?”

The question hung in the air like a bird soaring toward a tumultuous wave of water.

The bird broke through the water, grabbed its prey and soared forward–a majestic and graceful victory.

“Yes.”

I said slowly with a pounding heart.

His response caught me off guard,

“Okay. Good. I’m just making sure you know where you’re going.”

I know where I’m going.”

Embrace the discomfort, I thought.

Embrace it and let goD. 

“I look at these young men and women and I confess the tears trickle down my cheeks and I bow in humble praise to God that He kept me from walking away from a calling that at times was painful and frustrating.”

– Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

untitled

She knew the package came from her and she knew what was inside.

She sat with furniture and suitcases tightly packed around her. The only space being her own little corner where she could easily shift in to gear and steer the wheel to her new home.

Admittedly, she wanted to tear open the package. Pour out its contents on to her lap. Read the letter she knew was waiting for her inside. Discover the unpredictable treasures of what she knew would be articles of clothing or trinkets found at some time of day, in some random place…All manifestations of thoughts and love that her friend still had for her. Gifts speak truth to the love harbored by the brokenhearted for the brokenhearted. The friend loved her unconditionally and she had chosen to let her go.

The way the manila envelope felt in her hands sent her heart in to her throat and the heaviness of nausea and stillness consumed her for a brief moment. Her blood felt cold and her heart seemed to be the only part of her still moving forward through time. She listened to it thud loudly against her chest and in an instant the package laid unopened on the floor. Without thought, her limbs did what they needed to bring the car to life.

She was behind the wheel driving the car, but someone else was breathing strength in to her limp body. She had become increasingly familiar with this fresh breathe of air over the past few weeks, each new breathe had grown larger than the one before. Once again, He came to her rescue. Right there in that moment. There He was.

He now steers my wheel.

And with that thought she pushed down on the gas. His peace warmed her blood, the nausea dissipated, and the car moved forward with a smile…

First Friday

First Friday of my life.

First Friday to end this lie.

First Friday to let God

take the prize.

First Friday without my strength.

First Friday

To know where I came.

First Friday of my life.

First Friday unafraid.

First Friday to surrender

my disgrace.

First Friday without what I will.

First Friday

To walk while He tells.

First Friday of my life.

First Friday, no more pain.

First Friday to kiss His face.

First Friday without broken faith.

First Friday

I’ll take what He gave.

– Kelsey Jo