Waiting For Plates

School's out for winter. Yippee! My workaholic, perfectionistic tendencies didn't allow for much socializing last semester at 'music school.' I am still adjusting to being back in the Lone Star state and am slowly finding like-minded individuals and groups of people who share my values. It's taking much more effort than I am used to and part of it is how spread out everyone is here. So much commuting and living off

this highway and that highway - all these towns dotting Interstate 45 in between the Gulf of Mexico and Houston - doesn't favor a sense of community. Most people I work with don't even live in the town in which we work. I am connected to a community in Houston, the Houston Zen Center - but I haven't seen them much. I'm not used to having to drive everywhere. I think of oil and time. I'm used to living in community so small you don't even need a bicycle, much less a car. No environmental guilt. No wasting time in transit. Although I have noticed as I've ventured out more since school's been out how inspiring a drive is for composing lyrics. "Bright Lights" and "Kanzeon" arose during my last jaunt up to the big city. And why was I headed to the H-town?

I was superstoked. I was going to feed some homeless persons downtown. On a date. A first date with a guy I met at a party. I had gone to Zen Center that morning and had run into a friend who told me about the party at my friend Brian's yoga studio. (Y'all in the neighborhood should totally check it out: Vital Way Yoga. There will be a potluck/drum circle/dance party for New Year's!) It was the first party I've been to in WAY too long. The last party I went to was my friend Wen's birthday party in July and there were no guys there at all except for her boyfriend. I can't even remember the last 'party' party I went to. I was excited to get out, meet some interesting people and see my friend Brian whom I hadn't seen since my move back to Texas in February.

It was awesome. I had more stimulating conversations in those few hours than I've had in the past month. I caught up with my friends Mary and Kirsten and Brian and met some interesting people. One guy caught my eye right away. I looked twice. Could he be single?

He was friends with Brian and after introductions, I spoke to his friends for awhile but didn't talk to him until he was leaving. Then, I find out he's a musician. Just a week or so ago, I was at the Chelsea Wine Bar with my friend Queenie talking to my advisor and theory teacher, Sparky, who was playing there with his jazz band and I asked him 'Where are all the single, intelligent musicians who are concerned about the planet?' He didn't know. Well, ladies and gentleman, I realized I might have just met one. This was turning out to be the best day. He told me about his band and I told him about the kinds of songs I like to write. He asked me if I was a friend of Brian's on Facebook. I told him I was and so we said we'd check out each other's stuff online. And then he left.

We accepted each other as Facebook friends and started zipping emails back and forth. The more he told me about himself, the more excited I was. He was vegan. He was an avid cyclist and advocate who didn’t even own a car. He was leaving on a road trip the next day so he asked if I wanted to do something before he left. Hell yeah, I thought. We exchanged phone numbers and started texting as I left the house to meet my friend Darlene. He asked if I wanted to join him in feeding the homeless that night. My jaw dropped as I read the text. One of the reasons I had gone to Zen Center the previous day had been to find out if I could join in any service projects they had going on, but I had forgotten to ask. This was going to be my kind of date. I couldn’t wait!

After a bike ride along the shore, I met him at his place where he was cooking rice. As soon as I got there, I asked for pen and paper to write down some lyrics that had come to me on the drive which I then sang for him. We talked while he shelled pecans for us to snack on. Local nuts – he’s my kind of guy. We talked about food and favorite books and music and our lives. Then I drove us and the rice downtown.

He set down the rice and I met some of the other volunteers. Two men were shouting and another man told us they were high. I turned to my date and offhandedly suggested that we should chant or sing songs to ease the tension. We kept walking over to the low stone fence and set down the rice. More volunteers with Food Not Bombs (http://www.foodnotbombs.net/) showed up but we couldn’t serve yet because the person who was bringing the plates had not yet arrived. It was then that I had one of those light bulb moments. I remembered that I had brought my guitar. I had brought it thinking that I would share some of my songs with my date later. I realized that the time was now. I could perform for the crowd while we were all waiting for plates.

All thoughts of being on a date vanished. I didn’t tell him what I was going to do or even ask if it would be okay to do it. I just ran to my truck and grabbed my guitar. I walked up to the line and started singing. I started out playing the song I most recently had been working on for my guitar final, Van Morrison’s Brown Eyed Girl (my guitar teacher posted it on Youtube). I received the smiles of men and women waiting in line and returned them. Soon after I started, the plates arrived, but I just kept on singing and strumming. It felt so great.

I finished that song and was asked to play it again. I asked for the name of the requester, shook his hand and played and sang it again for my new friend James. I got a request that I didn’t know which made me think for the millionth time that I really need to learn more cover tunes. I played one of mine. I met Escobar who told me some about his life and I offered him the guitar. He played and sang a tune and it turned into a song circle. I was amongst friends. I walked around and sang while everyone ate and afterwards, the guitar was passed around and I was blessed to share that space with some awesome individuals. I lost all reference for the word ‘homeless.’ We all seemed right at home. Nothing felt lacking, nothing amiss.

At one point, I noticed that dishes were being washed. I turned to one of my new friends and said, “I should go see if I can be helpful.” I was moved when he said “You’re being helpful right here.” I’d like to think he was right.

I still sometimes doubt myself in my pursuit of music. Why would I do that when I have a perfectly good degree in my pocket and could be making decent money, doing a good thing teaching kids about the earth and have health insurance. They helped me know why. Those kind souls with nothing to give, gave me so much that night. They were the ones who came to receive food, yet I walked away feeling nourished.

Four years ago when I challenged myself on my birthday to play at an open mic at a coffeeshop in Moab, Utah and thought I was going to vomit or pee in my pants, I had no idea I would one day be able to play in front of strangers in public at the drop of a hat with the ease of putting on a pair of socks. Like it was ordinary. Without thinking twice. Without doubting myself or telling myself it was a stupid thing to do. Without thinking about what anyone would think.

As I hugged them goodbye, I felt in my place. Firmly planted. Doing what I was supposed to be doing. Dogen said ‘Find your place where you are and practice will occur.’ We were all supposed to be on that street corner. Reminding each other that strangers are only friends you haven’t met yet. Not for one minute did I pity them or feel sorry for them. That allowed me to not separate myself from them. It was like being at a dinner party.

May all my new friends downtown be warm on this Christmas Day and may their hearts and stomachs be as full as my heart was on that downtown street corner sharing words and music and presence under a sliver of moon. Sometimes a sliver is all you need.