Autumn: When death and elegance walk hand in hand

Autumn is a season of great beauty, but it is also a season of decline: the days grow shorter, the light is suffused, and summer’s abundance decays towards winter’s death.  Faced with this inevitable winter, what does nature do in autumn?  It scatters the seeds that will bring new growth in the spring—and scatters them with amazing abandon.

In my own experience of autumn, I am rarely aware that seeds are being planted.  Instead, my mind is on the fact that the green growth of summer is browning and beginning to die.  My delight in the autumn colors is always tinged with melancholy, a sense of impending loss that is only heightened by the beauty all around.  I am drawn down by the prospect of death more then I am lifted by the hope of new life.

But as I explore autumn’s paradox of dying and seeding, I feel the power of the metaphor.  In the autumnal events of my own experience, I am easily fixated on surface appearances—on the decline of meaning, the decay of relationships, the death of work.  And yet if I look more deeply, I may see the myriad possibilities being planted to bear fruit in some season yet to come.

In retrospect, I can see in my own life what I could not see at the time—how the job I lost helped me find work I needed to do, how the “road closed” sign turned me toward terrain I needed to travel, how losses that felt irredeemable forced me to discern meanings I needed to know.  On the surface, it seemed that life was lessening, but silently and lavishly the seeds of new life were always being sown.

This hopeful notion that living is hidden within dying is surely enhanced by the visual glories of autumn.  What artist would ever have painted a season of dying with such a vivid palette if nature had not done it first? Does death posses a beauty that we—who fear death, who find it ugly and obscene—cannot see? How shall we understand autumn’s testimony that death and elegance go hand in hand?

For me, the words that come closest to answering those questions are the words of Thomas Merton: “There is in all visible things a hidden wholeness.”  In the visible world of nature, a great truth is concealed in plain sight: diminishment and beauty, darkness and light, death and life are not opposites.  They are held together in the paradox of “hidden wholeness.”

Autumn constantly reminds me that my daily dyings are necessary precursors to new life.  If I try to “make” a life that defies the diminishments of autumn, the life I end up with will be artificial, at best, and utterly colorless as well.  But when I yield to the endless interplay of living and dying, dying and living, the life I am given will be real and colorful, fruitful and whole. 

Parker J. Palmer from the chapter “There Is a Season” within his book Let Your Life Speak (copyright 2000, John Wiley and Sons, Inc.)

A little bit of everything about Dawes

Dave Bunker and I have always fed off of each other when it comes to new music.  For instance, a dozen years back, I introduced him to Neal Morse, and he returned the favor by letting me in on a then-obscure English trio called Muse. Back in the mid-90s I let him hear a cool little outfit known as The Waiting, and he showed me (and the rest of the world, because he signed them to their first deal) Sixpence None the Richer.  It is not odd for us to spend hours playing each other new music whenever we get together…and so it has been for three decades of friendship.

Last month, while in Chicago and driving to see guitarist Steve Hackett at a sold-out show at Arcada Theater, Dave pulled out a new CD by a band from the west coast called Dawes, entitled Stories Don’t End.  The music was a retro mish-mash of 70s era Fleetwood Mac, Jackson Browne, Eagles, Dire Straits, Graham Parsons, Neil Young, CSN, as well as a nod to some 60s artists like The Band, Buffalo Springfield, and CCR.  But it was drenched in its own melodies, savvy harmonies, emotive guitar work, and dynamic arrangements around the yearning vocals from primary songwriter Taylor Goldsmith.  But it was the lyrics that jumped out at me most.  Nearly every song had a gem or two in it, and some entire verses were like poetry.  It harkened to such wordmeisters as Mark Heard and David Wilcox.

I bought the CD the next day, and quickly discovered they had two previous releases, North Hills (2009) and Nothing Is Wrong  (2011).  They were then purchased post haste. I went on line and voraciously read everything I could about this San Fernando Valley quartet, and watched dozens of interviews and live performance clips.  It has been quite a while since I have been so enamored with a band in such a short period of time. In listening to the first two albums, I realized I had, indeed, been a bit familiar with a few of their earlier tunes while listening to some Adult Alternative format stations.  I also came to discover that they toured extensively opening for Mumford and Sons a few years ago, are good friends of Cory Chisel and the Wandering Sons (who I am glad to say I have become acquaintances with in the past year), have appeared on most of the late night talk shows, and even headlined at the Ryman about 6 months ago.  How I have missed all this, I’ll never know…but I am so glad I have finally  found Dawes with Bunker’s help.  My hope is that if you aren’t a fan already, you will check them out soon, and be as inspired as I am.

Here are some snippets of Taylor Goldsmith’s writing genius.  There are also some links to some video clips at the end of this post.  Let me know what you think (and those of you already on board, please be kind to me for being such a doofus for not discovering them ‘til now)…..

Oh you can't throw something out there without watching it fall

Only thing that's scarier than dying is not dying at all

So when I have lost all my control

God will rest my soul

(“God Rest My Soul,” from North Hills)

And love is not convenient; it does not cease at your command

You might take and leave it, but love is all I am

Love is all I am.

And love is not excitement; it's not kissing, or holding hands

I'm not some assignment; no, love is all I am

Love is all I am.

(“Love Is All I Am,” from North Hills)

If all my lovers sing the big words

And all my brothers keep them small

Then I get lost in the difference, between their whisper and the echo of their call

So I am headed for the ocean

To let the sea-smoke guide me in

I'll give up my belongings and questions

They only ever taught me to begin

So if you want to get to know me

Follow my smile into its curves

All these lines are born in sorrows and in pleasures

And every man ends up with the face that he deserves

(“When You Call My Name,” from North Hills)

So I took what I wanted and put it out of my reach

I wanted to pay for my successes with all my defeats

And if heaven was all that was promised to me

Why don't I pray for death?

And now it seems like the unraveling has started too soon

Now I'm sleeping in hallways and I'm drinking perfume

And I'm speaking to mirrors and I'm howling at moons

While the worse and the worse it gets

Oh you can judge all the world on the sparkle that you think it lacks

Yes you can stare into the abyss, but it's staring right back

(“When My Time Comes,” from North Hills)

Take me out of the city

Where my shadow can roam

Let me breath in the morning

Let my way be my home

(Take Me out of the City, North Hills)

And our actor ends his love song

And all these lovers sit and stare

If I don't find peace in the valley

It's cause there wasn't any there

And as I drive on through these canyons

I'm still feeling like a crook

If I don't find peace in the valley

I've got no place else to look

(“Peace in the Valley,” from North Hills)

And in my constant quest for truth

I am condemned to facts alone

And though my dreams all lead me nowhere

I won't forget my way back home

From the corner of a coffee shop

Or from the center of a stage

From the words used in a love note

Or from an empty page

While I struggle with these beauties

And my renditions end up dry

I'm like a bird that crashes into the window

That was drawn to the reflection of the sky

And the more I try to speak

The more I lose that earthly tone

And before heaven proves me hopeless

I won't forget my way back home

(“My Way Back Home,” from Nothing Is Wrong)

You're still caught somewhere between the plans and the dreams

So that neither end up turning out right

And I myself look a few moments older

When I learned that love is not as simple as I thought

It starts to feel more real and the wounds all start to heal

Whether I want them to or not

(“Coming Back to a Man,” from Nothing Is Wrong)

This ones going out to you

If you ever start to slip

And you learn to read between these lines you've drawn

When what is wrong and what is right

Seem more like just the ocean and the ship

And the straight line that you've followed here is gone

(“Fire Away,” from Nothing Is Wrong)

An older man stands in a buffet line

He is smiling and holding out his plate

And the further he looks back into his timeline

That hard road always had led him to today

And making up for when his bright future had left him

Making up for the fact that his only son is gone

And letting everything out once, His server asks him

“Have you figured out yet, what it is you want?”

“I want a little bit of everything,

The biscuits and the beans,

Whatever helps me to forget about

The things that brought me to my knees

So pile on those mashed potatoes

And an extra chicken wing

I'm having a little bit of everything”

Somewhere a pretty girl is writing invitations,

To a wedding she has scheduled for the fall

Her man says,” Baby, can I make an observation?

You don't seem to be having any fun at all”

She said, “You just worry about your groomsmen and your shirt-size

And rest assured that this is making me feel good

I think that love is so much easier than you realize

If you can give yourself to someone

Then you should

Cause it’s a little bit of everything

The way you joke, the way you ache

It is waking up before you do

So I can watch you as you wake

So on the day in late September

It's not some stupid little ring

I'm giving a little bit of everything

Oh, it’s a little bit of everything

It's the matador and the bull

It's the suggested daily dosage

It is the red moon when it's full

All these psychics and these doctors

They're all right and they're all wrong

It's like trying to make out every word

When they should simply hum along

It's not some message written in the dark

Or some truth that no one's seen

It's a little bit of everything

(“A Little Bit of Everything,” from Nothing Is Wrong)

Just beneath the surface there's another one of me

At the root of all my trouble, in the twitch before I speak

With thoughts and revelations even I could not accept

So just beneath the surface is where he will stay kept

Between the thoughtless words and the wordless thoughts

Between my pointless fears and my fearless plots

Between the parts of me I keep from you and the things that I'm just not

The center keeps on drifting

The music never stops

(“Just Beneath the Surface,” from Stories Don’t End)

If that look in your eyes, as I slowly go through the evidence

Gives any insight into the void you can’t get filled

Then your heart is bigger than any I’ve come up against

And if nobody hasn’t loved you enough, I know now

Someone will.

Someone will, and maybe someday you’ll be listening

But I could be just as you need me up until

The kind of guy you say you’re looking for

Sounds like the kind of guy I want to be

But if you just want someone to hold you right now, then

Someone will

(“Someone Will,” from Stories Don’t End)

If she focuses her energies

On just walking through the neighborhood

With depths and shallows nobody could sound

Like January Christmas lights

Under billion year old stars

She comes up with more of what is lost than what is found

So by the time that she explains to me

Just a glimpse of what she's understood

She betrays the meaning putting it in words

So she smiles at me lovingly

And says, "Just let me hold your hand

So far it's the only way I can let myself be heard"

And she thinks

"Most people don't talk enough about how lucky they are

Most people don't know what it takes for me to get through the day

Most people don't talk enough about the love in their hearts"

But she doesn't know most people feel that same way

(“Most People,” from Stories Don’t End)

All my mornings start with the alarm clock

Every dream gets stopped before the end

And with each bit I remember

The more the details run together

And I'm left with a message I don't comprehend

I've lost contact with the great beyond again

The way that love attacks and then surrenders

The things I mean the most when I say her name

And if he ever speaks of me casually

I hope he does so carefully

'Cause when you've loved somebody, everything's to blame

And I don't want her to ever feel ashamed

So I feel like a man behind a camera

Who waits patiently for something he won't see

I need to stop giving suggestions

And just illuminate the questions

That seems much more accurate to me

To keep the frame as wide as it can be

'Cause all the love and friends and happiness that ever came my way

Revealed themselves the moment I stopped watching

'Cause it's not faith that comes from miracles

But miracles that come from faith

And I'm sure that they've got something in common

I know that they've got something in common

(“Something In Common,” from Stories Don’t End)

If our lives were a movie, if our lives were a book

It'd be longer than I could defend

'Cause if you're telling a story, at some point you stop

But stories don't end

Stories don't end

They go on and on…

Just someone stops listening

(“Stories Don’t End, “ from Stories Don’t End)

Now there's a loophole in the theory

That I cannot figure out

'Cause if love was what they said it would be

Then you'd be here with me now

It's a loneliness perfected

It's how to laugh when you should cry

The side effects of a broken promise

Become a way of getting by

So the next time that you see me

And our exchange feels somehow cheap

Know that I feel every word you're saying

But from just a few steps out of reach

(“Side Effects,” from Stories Don’t End)

When My Time Comes

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ppT8eMLKYsg&list=PLKuXbj49I63Gn4p1XbnDcFej_thIkMFL6

A Little Bit of Everything

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IAEVcLB6HXY&list=PLKuXbj49I63Gn4p1XbnDcFej_thIkMFL6

Peace in the Valley:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YAww4VgaqbU

Something In Common

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fHuNytX4jIY

Most People

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nVyvJ_Jj6QI