(Do you know what I mean? I'm guessing we two aren't the only ones.)
She said she was listening to the radio, to Leonard Cohen in concert on CBC Radio 2. After we hung up, I went to my room to get ready for bed. I put on the radio, even though I'm of two minds about Mr. Cohen. Sometimes his heavy, chocolatey voice is perfect, just what I need, and other times it's irritatingly heavy like a scratchy, grey wool suit.
But this particular evening it was wonderful. I had two beeswax candles lit and the music went with them more smoothly than red wine. He sang,
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
It was exactly what I needed to hear. I wrote it in my journal. I lay on my side and petted the cat, and listened to Mr. Cohen's rich, deep voice make each word a poem, and each poem a sacred space. And I thought about the cracks in everything, letting in the light, and how that's just how I want - and need - to think about life at this moment.
By the way, I think if you go to the Radio 2 website, you can hear that same concert. I recommend it.
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