New Beginnings

On wistfulness and Joni Mitchell

Dear Friends,

I was in Minnesota last week to visit my daughter and daughter-in-law and witness their white coat ceremony that signals the beginning of medical school. You might remember that they got married in June, so this has been a summer of BIG moments for them. 

I had a wonderful time seeing the new life they are beginning: new home, new city, new people. We attended the 80^th anniversary party of a local and huge community garden where flowers and bees and vegetables were lush and flourishing. We wandered the sculpture garden and found whimsy and beauty, along with works we didn’t really understand. We explored the city and ate a lot of really good food. We had a wonderful trip.

The first day home, I stayed in my pajamas and sat in my recliner all day.  There is a price for me to pay for traveling. As I savored the visit in my mind, I grew wistful (something you may have figured out that I am prone to do). I thought of these two young women who are just at the beginning of so many things in life, and part of me wished I could be back at the beginning too, when life is so full of possibility. Perhaps this is magnified by living with cancer, but I think I might have felt this way anyway. 

Of course, I know that this is a hindsight view. When I was at that stage of life, possibility often felt like uncertainty, overwhelm and anxiety. Maybe what I was wishing was that I could be at the beginning but still have the perspective that 30+ extra years have brought. 

In any case, I felt wistful. And then I thought of Joni Mitchell.

Not because she is brilliant, which she absolutely is. I thought of Joni because I have been listening to her recently released album, Joni Mitchell at Newport (Live), on repeat and to how she laughs. Let me explain.

Joni Mitchell had a brain aneurysm in 2015 which left her unable to walk or talk, sing or play guitar. She has described her path back, which included teaching herself to play the guitar again by watching old videos of herself playing. (This is a great interview recorded just before she played Newport.) Her doctors said she had will and grit and that served her well.

Last summer, she joined many friends and played and sang at a surprise appearance at the Newport Folk Festival, her first time performing publicly since the aneurysm. The crowd went wild, as one does when one is witnessing a miracle. This album was recorded there. When Joni sings Both Sides Now in this performance, you hear how the truth of this song has only deepened through the years. “Something's lost, but something's gained in living every day.” Joni could have given up after her aneurysm, but she didn’t. She says that she decided that she would sing again. And does she ever sing!

Most of us face life events at one time or another that pull the rug out from under us. We are left with a choice of how we will respond.  Within our new capacity, what will we decide to do?

At 78 years old, Joni sat on the Newport stage and sang. And if you listen closely, at the end of many of the songs, she laughs. These laughs give me goosebumps. I don’t pretend to know the mind of Joni Mitchell, but I like to think that her laughter is the pure delight of second chances, of new experiences that she never anticipated.

And this brings me back to my wistful afternoon. Part of wanting to be back at the beginning of life is rooted in the fear that the best has already been. The fear that at age 60, living with incurable cancer, my best days are behind me.

Joni Mitchell challenges me to reconsider. I’m not dead yet which means that there is still more possibility for me. If you are hearing or reading this, you’re not dead yet either, so the same is true for you. There may yet be experiences, beauty, and joy that I cannot even imagine. And rather than feeling wistful, this can make me open.

New beginnings happen both every morning that we wake up, and then sometimes in moments when we least expect them.

Thanks for being here. I’d love to hear your stories of possibility and new beginnings in the comments, or hit reply. Please share this with folks who might be interested.

Here’s to second (and beyond) chances!

Love,

Maija

Song of the Week is the album of the week: Joni Mitchell at Newport (Live).  How often do you get to listen to the recording of a miracle?