a year in the kingdom

tonight, we saw 2 concerts in the mountains of santa cruz- gregory alan isokov and j tillman. both musicians will likely become part of my soundtrack for the winter. j tillman had won me over with the title track from "a year in the kingdom" back at the end of october. i listened to it on a particularly emotional day, one when it felt like many things were coming to a head and God was making even clearer some truths and realities i already knew- and needed to know more of.

what's genius about the song is that its lyrics evoke something in you that you don't really understand- they are heart rending and emotional and raw... but you don't quite know why, you can't quite put your finger on it. they have overtones of something to do with God, but the exact meaning is ever so slightly obscured, which makes it somehow more beautiful. i am finding so much beauty, as of late, in things i can't quite understand.

tonight, j tillman's show was at the brookdale lodge, and the section where he played was probably 40 degrees, no joke. you could see your breath. if you know me at all, you know this was not a good thing. i stayed as long as i could in the section, his voice is so perfect and everything so captivating, you want to be close and hear everything. by the end of the set, i couldn't handle anymore and so i found refuge by the fireplace in the back of the room (which provided no heat to the front of the room for some reason).

during the first song of the encore, brian and i were feeling ready to go. i told myself that if the next song wasn't "year in the kindom," then we could go. before he began the second encore song, J off-handedly said how great it would be to unplug and finish up by the fire. the small but faithful crowd convinced him that this was right and so he made his way toward the warmth, while the crowd circled around. and there, by the glow of firelight and 50 quiet, expectant listeners, he began...

when i look back on my life
a stillness passes over friends
what i stored was yours to keep
it's no more mine to reclaim than the rocks and the trees

i spent a year in the kingdom, on my way, on my way through the garden
i spent a year in the kingdom, on my way, on my way through the garden

what comfort used to pass my days
before you shook the cold from me
i have enough to hold me to your side
before release comes for me like a thief in the night

i spent a year in the kingdom, on my way, on my way through the garden
i spent a year in the kingdom, on my way, on my way through the garden

i'd give back every night bird song
i'd give back every lay in the dawn
i'd give back my singing voice

for, one more day, one more day in the kingdom

my ears recalled the october day five weeks earlier, hearing these words and music at a time when i somehow had needed them to give voice to what was going on inside. and as i remembered that, i also remembered that earlier today, i had been asking God to show up, to show me something, to show me that he was listening to me as I implored him to give me guidance about my life. and in this unexpected and perfect way, it felt like this song- being sung in the warmth of the fire, surrounded by easy, thoughtful silence- was a showing up. instead of up on a stage, away, separated, here was this song, these words - sung softly, gently, humbly, giving voice to mystery, reminding.