Sing Over Me

I love Sabbath. 

I told you I was sitting on the beach having conversation with God about this. It's tripping me out. Speaking of which, I should warn you now, I'm slightly crazy. I asked God to teach me how spirit works and He said, "OK, then follow me out of your mind." 

Rewind a few years to when Sabbath completely sucked for me. I grew up in a conservative setting where Sabbath was pretty much The Day The Fun Stood Still. 

Basic operational guideline: If there's any chance you might enjoy it, you shouldn't be doing it on Sabbath. 

So although I always felt like there might be something magical about it, the possibility was obscured many years by a list of rules for the doing and the don't-ing of the day. 

A few Sabbaths ago, I went to my Hollywood Church and it was a heavy day. Several of us were hurting, some out loud. There was a fog in the air over the city, a phenomenon called June Gloom. Weird that I've never noticed it before. I've lived in Los Angeles over 25% of my life, and I don't remember this?

Why this year am I acutely aware of the fog? It's 'cause I'm sad and lonely and we'll talk about that later. 

As soon as church was out, I tossed some stuff in the car and headed east. Three weeks earlier I had promised Zoe and Dulce that I'd come out and play music with them on a Sabbath afternoon. 

They just got all this cool new equipment. 

It starts out: "hey, you should come jam with us"

Then it was: "you better come jam with us"

Then it turned into: "if you don't come jam with us, you're dead!"

Don't you love how this escalates from invite to demand to death threat?

I'm so heavy by the time I get there, I'm looking for a way to ditch this, but understand these are two of my dearest friends in the world. The absolute delight on Dulce's face as I walk into the studio is reason enough to drive 100 miles. I figure they'll notice sooner or later, so I might as well divulge:

"Hey you guys, I'm depressed right now and I don't have any music in me..."

So you know what! They played and sang and I just sat there and soaked it up. And it was good medicine. Dulce rockin' the Madonna covers and Zoe on the Pat Benatar. And my spirit peeked out from behind my pain. And that thing that music does began at my toes and worked its way steadily into my heart. 

And it wasn't until later that I remembered you can't sing Madonna tunes on Sabbath.

By which time I felt much better and it was too late. 

A single phrase to describe my friends Zoe and Dulce: Musical Deliverance