On Saturday night I walked into Stargazers Theatre for their concert, the first stop on this year's tour, and, by some undeserved blessing from God or fate (via a friend who came over and invited us to sit with her -- thanks Chloe!) ended up in the front row. I sat down hardly comprehending it: front row seats? Heather and Nicky and Ruth ten feet in front of me? Daniel said before the concert started, "We're almost close enough for them to spit on us." "It would be an honor," I said.
Waiting there in my exhilaratingly close seat, I was trying to remember when I first became a Wailin' Jennys fan. I distinctly remember the first time I heard their music. It was spontaneous and could have easily been insignificant, just a song played to me amidst a group of friends by a high school classmate. But, as you already know, it wasn't. That song was Beautiful Dawn, which is still to this day and for every day in between has been my favorite song. I remember that moment; I just don't remember exactly when it was. I know it was somewhere in the neighborhood of sophomore year of high school, so I'm estimating it's been ten years. I can't claim the full fifteen years the group is celebrating in 2017, but it's still a long time. Two-fifths of my life, to put it another way, and the fraction only grows larger.
The whole concert experience was deeply meaningful to me in a way that's difficult to put into words. I heard the Wailin' Jennys live once before, about eight years ago. This time gave me space to reflect on the time that has passed since, and the magnitude of this music's role in my life. All the hard times I've faced that these songs have carried me through. How deeply I've resonated with different lyrics at different times, somehow always finding what I need. As I listened, I felt steeped in the rich history of my own story, full of love and gratitude for the music and its influence on the person I've been and have become.
And I remembered the days and weeks and months during my senior year of high school, after weathering one of the hardest experiences of my life, when I listened and listened to Ten Mile Stilts, This is Where, Take It Down, and Starlight. I can say without question that these songs played a role in my healing, and not a small one. They gave voice to my pain in a way that little else did.
Got a heart that opens clear in this cool September dark
It rests on treetop leaves
And bursts its little sparks
And sometimes it sings its songs
And it lets its secrets out
Except for one that sears inside
That it cannot live without
But if I tell you will you take it
Will you shine it up to me
Can you be strong to let me go on
And set this freedom free
----
I have toured the endless starlight
Take me home
I have shattered under midnight
Take me home
There are no vultures in this clearing
Except the ones who brought me here
And I'll no longer feed them
Take me home
Even now, I feel the impact of their new music as a bright light in a dark and sometimes dismal global landscape. The announcement of their new album (the first in six years) came in early September, linked to their cover of Tom Petty's "Wildflowers," and that's another moment that will be permanently etched in my mind.
It's odd, thinking about the things that shape our lives. But the simple truth is, I think I would be a different person if the Wailin' Jennys hadn't come into my life. And I'm glad I'm not that person.
