a piano.

The invisible is seen through metaphors.  They connect the intangible to familiar items and experiences.  In the same stroke of a pen they cannot completely unveil the thing they are trying to illuminate.  People have experiences and revelations that they try to convey through symbols and metaphors.  The experience or revelation is supposed to awaken Life and broaden the vision of one’s horizon by adding to the vocabulary or life-expression of the person.

So.

What is a symbol or metaphor that articulates my experience of life right now?  This symbol or metaphor is what frames my vision of “how things hang together.”

A piano.  Undoubtedly beset with a beautiful pianist gracing the keys with her fingertips (she’s about 5’8”, dark hair, brown eyes, smile like the sunrise and soon to share my last name).  A piano has many keys that, when pressed, produce certain musical notes.  All of the keys on a piano are designed and ready to be played—but there is a catch—there’s always a catch (the pianist is a catch nonetheless).  The catch is that not all the keys on the piano sound good or right when played within a specific musical piece.  The piece itself, the sheet music, beautifully orchestrates and reveals the right keys to press, and notes to be played, in order to produce the divine movements of Brahms or Mozart.  If one plays a note that’s outside of the musical notation or key signature on the sheet music it sounds undesirable, out of place, wrong—at least to the Brahms and Mozart faithful.  When a different piece is played or the key signature is changed then notes that were once undesirable, out of place, or wrong soon become desirable, welcomed, and right!  The nature of these once undesirable notes, and their physical piano keys, didn’t change; rather the sheet music and musical notation called their capabilities into service.

So articulate your symbol, Trav, please!  He is the Composer writing the pieces, she is the pianist, and I’m discovering the purpose of all my old piano keys—no longer just the black keys.  I used to blame God, the Composer, for so many of my keys; seeing them as inherently undesirable, out of place, or wrong.  I sat on that old wooden piano bench, pecking at the keys, seeming to hit every wrong note, all the while picking up splinters in my rear, for hours at a time.  I didn’t understand why I could not use and play all the piano keys, always, at all times.  Then she came along.  She showed me that all the piano keys reveal the beauty of Music, across the eternal spectrum of pieces, written by the Composer.

There are so many seasons of Life.  There are so many songs to be played.  The beauty of a piano, the musical piece, and the Composer is revealed when the piano player follows the key signature at just the right time—I mean stays in Time.