To the week that was.
I am supposed to be revising for my final exams so obviously I went out three evenings last week but also had quite grounding experiences that helped me to take stock of life.
Monday night seeing the legendary Horace Andy at Boisdale of Canary Wharf
Thanks to the woman who star hops I was fortunate to see the Lips Choir performing Club Classics at the Clapham Grand on Wednesday night. Even more enjoyable than their selection of tunes (which were in every sense of the word - tuuuunes), was the palpable joy the women had as they performed on stage. With the incredible vocals from Miss Elliotte Williams-N'Dure I was transported back, way back...
By the end of the concert, I had lost my voice from singing along and whooping.
On Friday I attended a funeral and couldn't helped being moved by the love and affection the friends and family expressed for the person they had lost. Seeing the church filled with people wanting to pay their respects because of how that person made them feel or the memories they shared together was humbling and inspiring.
During the service came the time when the congregation turns to each other and says "peace be with you". I had been to many church services before but never really reflected on this tradition or the words. With all the hatred, fear, conflicts, loss and overload of information, it was a good reminder of the importance of coming back to peace, coming back to looking inwards and coming back to self.
On Saturday, I put on my glad rags and celebrated my aunt's ??th birthday (Even if I told you her age, you wouldn't believe me because she looks damn good!). Somehow, the children who used to run around at those events are now adults with spouses, children and mortgages.
The music keeps playing. Life keeps on unfolding before us waiting for us to celebrate every moment.
Peace be with you.