Reverie

Reverie can be defined as: A state of being pleasantly lost in one's thoughts; a daydream; a dreamy or musing state; absentminded dreaming while awake; an abstracted state of absorption.

Do you ever experience something that just stops you dead in your tracks? There is a song, that does it to me. Gabriel's Oboe from The Mission. I find it practically impossible to do anything while it's playing. I am overcome in reverie.

It happens to me often enough with music, but sometimes it hits me when reading a student's paper. I see some image of their future, and the stack drops into my lap, and I just think. Reverie to me is reminiscence of the future. Like starting a story "Once upon a time...in the future."

It also overcomes me with the smell of tree blossoms. It's subtle, unnoticeable, then you catch it and it's the only thing you can smell. Lilacs at night. You're caught up in everything, then you stop. Then your mind flashes through its register, and then there's that moment of recognition. Lilacs. And you have to stop. You have to close your eyes so that the only thing in the universe for one second is the smell of lilacs. Or the song of an oboe. Or a sliver of a moon, so faint its hardly there.

Sometimes there are moments that are so romantic, that you cannot help but be overcome. They are so perfect, so idyllic, so picturesque. But then there are the moments that are so unabashedly normal that when that little thing crosses your vision you are sweetly jerked out of your reality. A toddler's laugh, a sunset, shapes in the clouds. A whimsy, that if you don't give into it, it's gone. Sometimes you have to choose not to give in to the reverie. And there is a certain bittersweet sadness reserved for just that moment.

At the young folks' home

I have had an affinity for all things folk for as long as I can remember. I remember having a Cumberland Gap Christmas cassette that I would always put in the car around holiday time to my family's chagrin. I've never endorsed country music, but folk was different. Mostly due to listening to NPR, I later found artists like Tracy Chapman, Michelle Shocked, Nickel Creek, Ben Taylor, etc. I think I was also influenced by an early appreciation of traditional Celtic music, appearances by James Taylor on Sesame Street, and other Muppet related experiences. After watching the Muppet Movie at a fairly young age, my dream was to learn to play the banjo, and I was devastated to find that they were not accessible to a boy with a pre-teen budget.

After performing for years in the BYU International Folk Dance Ensemble I became semi-obsessed with finding non-American folk music. I mean, who actually listens to Klezmer music? willingly? That's me. In a workshop I went to recently we took a Multiple Intelligences test. My strongest, hands down? Music smart. Even though it has little to do with what I do or how I do it, music is still a huge part of how I live my life. So when Kamila's aunt took us to a concert, I was a bit affected.

Last night we got to go see Po' Girl. They're a Canadian folk band. The two lead girls had such soulful voices that were almost shocking when they started to sing. The deep passion was just elemental in the room. And they had a slide guitar. And a clarinet. And a washtub bass. (WOW! I got to see one in real-live action. Ask my wife how excited I was.) Folk music just seems so authentic. Just the other night we were talking about how all of a certain band's songs sound exactly the same as everything else they've ever done. The music is personal, real. They played a fantastic song in French, which is totally appropriate since they're Canadian! They played a few songs based on styles of her Portuguese ancestry, and a couple more just in memory of their grandmothers. When I listen to folk music I start to feel a connection inside of me. A connection so deep in my gut that there is a physical reaction when I start to feel it, which happens rarely. The feeling is light and dark, it is sweat, tears, and joy. It is my ancestors. It is my being stripped bare. When I listen to folk music I feel that we are all family, and I cannot help but stomp my foot on the wood of an old church concert hall.