Month: September 2024

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The Enchanted Stream

It was like liquid ice. I could feel the cool stream forming swirly eddies on my face, bubbling and kissing my cheeks with each frosty splash. As I lowered my head deeper below the surface, I could feel watery fingers tug and pull at my hair. It was floating and waving in the cool liquid bliss. The gentle flow saturated my senses. I could only hear the water. All other sounds were gone. I could only feel the river. The cool flow and majestic rocks pressed up against me. My soul was transported. In that moment, I felt myself flying beyond the glassy surface to a magical portal of serenity and peace.

There’s a quaint little bridge in Sligachan on the Isle of Skye. Below the ancient stone walkway flows a tiny crystal-clear stream. It’s fed by the nearby emerald-green mountains that are continually washed by the highland’s life-giving foggy mist. Nestled deeply in the delightful Scottish scene is a mystical lore and an enchanted legend that welcomes visitors to this very day.

Nobody was quite like Scáthach. She lived on Skye and was known as the greatest warrior in all of Scotland. Her renown spread to Ireland and landed on the ambitious ears of Cú Chulainn, Ireland’s greatest fighter. He challenged Scáthach to a battle to prove his own strength. The epic battle raged for weeks, reshaping Skye, moving mountains, and carving new valleys. Animals and life itself began to leave the Isle.

Scáthach’s daughter was heartbroken and weary of the war. She fled to the stream at Sligachan and began to weep. The fairies of the river heard her and beckoned her to dunk her face into the stream to gain knowledge to end the war. As she did, the fairies blessed her with wisdom. She rose and set on a journey to gather herbs, meats, nuts, and every delicious thing she could. With that she prepared an incredible meal in her home. The scent of the meal covered the land, melting the hearts of the fighting warriors. Scáthach and Cú Chulainn couldn’t resist. They made their way to Scáthach’s home and feasted on an incredible meal. By eating in Scáthach’s home, Cú Chulainn became a welcome guest and in the rules of Celtic hospitality, you can never fight someone who has hosted you for dinner. Ever. The battle ended, but the river of Sligachan would forever be disturbed. As the myth goes, the stream would forever be enchanted and bless all who dip their face in its cool watery portal with endless wisdom and beauty.

As we concluded our tour through the Isle of Skye, we ended up at this charming stream and story of Scáthach. Our guide told us the story and welcomed us to connect with the legend if we desired. It was optional, but I wasn’t going to skip the moment. All fanciful myths aside, the scene was spectacular and the opportunity to immerse myself physically into a fantastic story was too irresistible and refreshing to miss. The cool water. The crisp air. The unbelievable highlands captured our hearts and escorted us into the Scottish tale. My family and I still remember that moment. That beautiful stream we touched let us leave the battlefield of this busy earth and transported us to a vital and cherished peaceful land with the ones we loved.

We don’t need a stream in Sligachan or a story of the famous Scáthach to pause the daily battles and enjoy eternal beauty. We can do it right now. For a moment, dip your face into the serenity of the now. Take a moment and experience the wonders around you. Appreciate the crisp life that is powering your every breath. Soak in the magic of creation and be renewed even today. And don’t worry if you never make it to Skye to see this tiny little stream. I think all of you are already eternally beautiful.

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Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are! Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky.”

Where I grew up, elementary school was grades 1 through 6 and when you graduated from 6th grade, you were promoted to Junior High school. For the first time in your educational career, you were introduced to the responsibility of managing your class schedules, electives, and hallway lockers. Do you recall those days? At thirteen years of age, uncoordinated, unpopular, timid, and slightly attention challenged, it was often a recipe for disaster for me. But I somehow managed. I even signed up for my electives. I picked journalism because they got to use a computer, but beyond that, I had no idea what to pick. I rolled the dice and signed up for band. 

I decided to try the trumpet as my instrument. As with every member, we were given special attention by the instructor. We began practicing on day one and it was a sonic disaster. Squawks, buzzes, squeaks, and raspy rattles were heard across the auditorium. I questioned my decision more than once but kept practicing along with my peers. With our instructors help, we finally began to learn proper posture, embouchure, breathing and finger placement. Like some sort of miracle, after a while, real notes started to appear. We were no way close to competing with Louis Armstrong, but we could really blast “Mary Had a Little Lamb” and “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” like nobody’s business. 

I recall how we all thought we had move up into the major leagues when we hit almost every note and occasionally even had the timing right. Some notes were extra special. They require a bit more skill to hit so when you finally did, you liked to hold it a bit longer, perhaps too long. With a help of a metronome, we eventually moved past the “finally got it so hold it” tendency. The trumpet concerto finally had those stars twinkling. 

The band teacher assembled everyone together. We had been practicing and performing separately but now it was time to play together. Our trumpet section joined the flutes, clarinets, trombones, saxophones, and percussion. The entire band came together and was ready to perform.

Have you ever been in a car accident? There is a weird feeling where all control is pulled away from you and the world boils in chaos all around you. Well, that is how it was when we first started playing together. It was awful! We were all blindly playing through the notes on the sheet music in front of us, unaware of being out of sync and out of tune with everyone else. 

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” the instructor tried to wrangle the stampede. “Let’s start slow. Hold each note until I tell you to move on. Watch me!” The conductor raised his baton, and, on the downstroke, the room erupted in the “Mary” note. It started rough but as we held it, something amazing happened. We finally heard each other for the first time. It was actually quite remarkable. The instructor smiled. Seeing us each awaken to this new connection he moved on to the next stroke, “had”, then “a” and the double beat “little.” When we finally reached “go” there was a bit of awe in the room, and we were even a bit emotional. We had done it! It was no Concerto Magnifico, but it had unlocked a key lesson in life. Paying attention and listening to each other would allow us to make beautiful music together. 

We all have a part to play. We carry different instruments in life. We each have unique abilities, talents, passions, and perspective. Something incredible happens when we come together, listen to each other, and focus on a common outcome. Our individual notes become a chorus, resonating, and amplifying each other into something that we could never achieve on our own. Individually, we are all amazing wonders, but together, we are magnificent, like a diamond in the sky!

Play your notes with all your heart! But listen. Connect. Feel the majesty of what we can be together. Let’s keep playing!