Rust.

I took out my classical guitar tonight, for the first time in many months.  I then spent over an hour trying to locate my classical music from the joyful days when I used to be able to afford the time for guitar lessons.  One of my favourite pieces to play was Suit no 1 for Cello by Bach.  To my dismay I could not even complete the first page.  I have always been fascinated by how my fingers remember what to play more quickly than my brain does.  A neurological phenomenon of course.  However, even this knowing failed me.  I am truly rusty.  Out of practice(p): impaired in skill by neglect, according to wordnetweb.

U2 sing about love turning to rust (Where the streets have no name).  Love impaired in skill by neglect.  Perhaps skill is the wrong word.  But love, faith, and classical guitar can all be impaired by neglect.  I am in what I have defined as a “quiet place” within my faith.  I think of it as not lost or dead, but quietly ruminating.  Perhaps to be honest, it is in hibernation.   The U2 song comes from the album “The Joshua Tree” – a long time favorite.  A rare album that has remained loved from my angst ridden teens to now.   The album art features a Joshua tree, apparently named by the Mormons because it’s form reminded them of Joshua reaching his hands up to the sky in prayer.  A tree of prayer, of life, in a barren desert.  The sort of place where love could turn to rust.   Where life can be found.  And faith.

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