This morning, as I was struggling to clear the cob webs from my mind and impatiently waiting for the coffee to drip enough to be a cup, I set my phone on the kitchen counter and started to listen to music. Music and coffee, two of the many things which nourish my inspiration to write; all the sudden the true source of my muse joined my side. I will let you in on a little secret, the serendipity I referred to in “Serendipity’s Trace” are two fold; the grace of God that blesses me and the blessings of people who nurture me with their stories.
The music I was playing was an Ethiopian instrumental album titled Memories (Tizita) by Teodros Makonnen. The first track of the album was “Japanwan Wedije”, a song by Tilahun Gessesse that Makonnen was paying homage to with a melodic ode by way of a saxophone. The mending power of music is such, the minute the tunes started to cuddle me like a gabi, I forgot about the anxiety of waiting for my coffee. Suddenly, my morning symphonic meditation was interrupted as an older fellow named Bill joined me in the mission kitchen. I will readily admit, as much as I love being among people and get my inspiration to write from people, there are times I just want to be left alone and be on my own. Thus, I was initially miffed when my “me time” was converted into a “we” conversation.
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