The pianist

Helped a person who is a professional pianist, has been on the radio and has two concerts coming up. He is very accomplished but after a recent divorce has left him hollow. He has some family history on issues. I helped to remind him how sales can be a circular loop like a tredmill and not to be hard on himself. Moreover to look at loving and care for himself and allowing his heart to open to allow another women enter his life if he is ready for that. It is amazing how a genus can point out his negatives instead of capitizing on the strengths. May joy find his soul.

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2 thoughts on “The pianist

  1. I’m so glad and so very proud of you_about these !

    Allow me to insert here our national ballad_a sort of Romanian Beowulf…Since over a month,now_I have this thought of explaining to you that,especially because you care so much about getting to help others in their fight with depression_you need God ,as a constant and definitive presence into your heart(and soul _and mind _and life ),so much more;and,every time I was thinking about how I would argument that for you_a couple of verses from this ballad_always popped up into my mind….And,because it would take much more space,believe me_if I would try to narrate it myself_apart from the fact that this would have killed it’s great beauty_I’ve taken the liberty of posting it ,entirely,here…Consider this as an inter-cultural _Romanian/American action and exchange…
    Here it is :
    Miorita (The Little Ewe)

    ” Near a low foothill

    At Heaven’s doorsill,

    Where the trail’s descending

    To the plain and ending,

    Here three shepherds keep

    Their three flocks of sheep,

    One, Moldavian,

    One, Transylvanian

    And one, Vrancean.

    Now, the Vrancean

    And the Transylvanian

    In their thoughts, conniving,

    Have laid plans, contriving

    At the close of day

    To ambush and slay

    The Moldavian;

    He, the wealthier one,

    Had more flocks to keep,

    Handsome, long-horned sheep,

    Horses, trained and sound,

    And the fiercest hounds.

    One small ewe-lamb, though,

    Dappled gray as tow,

    While three full days passed

    Bleated loud and fast;

    Would not touch the grass.

    ”Ewe-lamb, dapple-gray,

    Muzzled black and gray,

    While three full days passed

    You bleat loud and fast;

    Don’t you like this grass?

    Are you too sick to eat,

    Little lamb so sweet?”

    ”Oh my master dear,

    Drive the flock out near

    That field, dark to view,

    Where the grass grows new,

    Where there’s shade for you.

    ”Master, master dear,

    Call a large hound near,

    A fierce one and fearless,

    Strong, loyal and peerless.

    The Transylvanian

    And the Vrancean

    When the daylight’s through

    Mean to murder you.”

    ”Lamb, my little ewe,

    If this omen’s true,

    If I’m doomed to death

    On this tract of heath,

    Tell the Vrancean

    And Transylvanian

    To let my bones lie

    Somewhere here close by,

    By the sheepfold here

    So my flocks are near,

    Back of my hut’s grounds

    So I’ll hear my hounds.

    Tell them what I say:

    There, beside me lay

    One small pipe of beech

    Whith its soft, sweet speech,

    One small pipe of bone

    Whit its loving tone,

    One of elderwood,

    Fiery-tongued and good.

    Then the winds that blow

    Would play on them so

    All my listening sheep

    Would draw near and weep

    Tears, no blood so deep.

    How I met my death,

    Tell them not a breath;

    Say I could not tarry,

    I have gone to marry

    A princess – my bride

    Is the whole world’s pride.

    At my wedding, tell

    How a bright star fell,

    Sun and moon came down

    To hold my bridal crown,

    Firs and maple trees

    Were my guests; my priests

    Were the mountains high;

    Fiddlers, birds that fly,

    All birds of the sky;

    Torchlights, stars on high.

    But if you see there,

    Should you meet somewhere,

    My old mother, little,

    With her white wool girdle,

    Eyes with their tears flowing,

    Over the plains going,

    Asking one and all,

    Saying to them all,

    ’Who has ever known,

    Who has seen my own

    Shepherd fine to see,

    Slim as a willow tree,

    With his dear face, bright

    As the milk-foam, white,

    His small moustache, right

    As the young wheat’s ear,

    With his hair so dear,

    Like plumes of the crow

    Little eyes that glow

    Like the ripe black sloe?’

    Ewe-lamb, small and pretty,

    For her sake have pity,

    Let it just be said

    I have gone to wed

    A princess most noble

    There on Heaven’s doorsill.

    To that mother, old,

    Let it not be told

    That a star fell, bright,

    For my bridal night;

    Firs and maple trees

    Were my guests, priests

    Were the mountains high;

    Fiddlers, birds that fly,

    All birds of the sky;

    Torchlights, stars on high.”

    Maybe you’ll manage to better arrange the poem on the page,I didn’t know how to do that…I’ll tell you later what verses of it I wanted,specifically,to quote_but I’m quite sure you’ll figure it out by yourself…
    May God bless all those who will have the patience and interest to read this.

  2. These are the verses which seem to me that are expressing your need about God being near you _when you try to help others suffering from depression:

    ”Master, master dear,

    Call a large hound near,

    A fierce one and fearless,

    Strong, loyal and peerless…”

    Similarly,I would say to you :”my friend,my friend,dear_ask God to you near “…
    especially when dealing with the negative energies produced by this illness upon those whom you want to help..

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