This morning a storm cloud formed over my home and let out a thunderous crack, shaking the windows and dropping the last of this season’s avocados from the trees. San Diego gets plenty of overcast and seasonal drizzle, but seldom do we get thunder and lightning with huge downpours. The storm reminded me of my upbringing in Virginia. We’d get heated thunderstorms quite often; the kind that would lay large branches over power lines and rooftops; tempests. I recall them being quite violent, but I still miss them.
My arrival home last night was the finale to months of touring and the rain began to fall only minutes before pulling into the driveway. I considered the change in weather a request from the heavens; a trillion tiny droplets singing me to sleep. rest child. no need to wake up soon. dream new dreams. we’ll take care of you.
The last week of shows had been climactic, experiencing extraordinary highs and extreme lows within a few close breaths. There was no challenge I couldn’t overcome, but there were challenges nonetheless, largely having to do with strength to continue and finding ways to make our reoccurring show new again. At the end of the day I am so grateful to the audiences; those who make it easy for us to carry on. Your invitation and listenership practically pull the words from my lips, uplifting my spirit again and again, giving my life new direction, purpose, and reason to serve.
I dreamed last night of new songs to thunderous applause. I traveled farther than I’ve yet to and I felt myself taller and wiser; proof that we’ve still got a long way to grow.
Thank you. We’ve come a long way together.