For the record

Usually at the end of each month I post a link to my completed batch of daily writings at 100 Words. I don't draw much attention to it, and you would need intimate knowledge of my behaviour to find it otherwise. I initially chose not to post a June link out of courtesy to others, however it has come to my attention the people I wanted to protect have quoted words out of context and manipulated them, so the purpose of discretion is lost. It's strange to hear about my writing at the middle of a controversy. If you are puzzled, here is the whole month in context. Otherwise, it is not worth reading.

I am ready to start blogging again.

Going to sleep

Last night in the car I got to know Richard Strauss's Four Last Songs. My mind was racing and I wanted to distract myself, so I put in a CD of Renée Fleming's performance. The songs were not familiar, but I enjoy Strauss's music and knew the settings possessed a transcendant quality, which I needed.

The first time through the cycle, my mind raced in other directions and I heard almost nothing. The third song has a lovely climbing melodic phrase, which I recognized, so I went back and replayed it. The second and third time, I was still distracted. I've been working on concentration, so I continued to replay it until it sunk in.

The first two verses are restless, almost aimless. You can't pin down a melody. Then the singer stops and the solo violin begins. "How strange," I thought, "to interrupt the song like that." The violin finally presents the rhapsodic melody I remembered. Then the soprano returns and repeats its upward yearning, and the music finally diffuses into utter peace.

Stopping at a traffic light in Toronto, I pulled out the liner notes and glanced at the song. It's title is "Beim Schlafengehen", or "Going to sleep". The first two verses are indeed troubled. The violin's interruption is a lullaby. Afterward it is as if the singer has gone to sleep, entering a dream world.

Now that I am wearied of the day,
I will let the friendly, starry night
greet all my ardent desires
like a sleepy child.

Hands, stop all your work.
Brow, forget all your thinking.
All my senses now
yearn to sink into slumber.

And my unfettered soul
wishes to soar up freely
into night's magic sphere
to live there deeply and thousandfold.

It was exactly what I needed. I began to weep.

I must have listened to it seven time before I arrived at Danny's house. I felt in a decent mood, however I had been running on nervous energy for a few hours and soon hit the wall. He persuaded me to go to bed early, and I slept more soundly than I have in weeks.