A Song for September: Frühlingsglaube
Dear friends,
And so we cross the threshold of the autumn equinox, welcoming a bit more darkness into each day. While I lament bidding farewell to the warmth of summer, the full trees and fresh veg from the land, the caress of warm breezes on bare arms, I look forward to this season of letting go, of surrender. The season of deepening, rest, rejuvenation — and resilience.
It’s been a tough week. Other weeks have felt tough, but I felt myself crumple under the weight of this one, particularly with the passing of RBG. As the world darkens around us, I’m reminded that we must actively keep the flame of hope in our hearths.
I share with you this month a Schubert lied — my first Schubert song many years ago, and one that I return to again and again. “Frühlingsglaube” means “Faith in Spring”. You may wonder why I share a song of spring when the season is turning the opposite direction. To me, in this moment, the poem speaks not so much about the literal season, but rather about what the arrival of spring signifies: moving from darkness into light, from despair toward hopefulness, from sorrow toward joy, from grief toward healing. Trusting that, with the change of the season (physically in the world, and within human life), healing and light and joy will return, trusting that it’s not far off. It’s a song of hope, a song of trust. The seasons teach us this: It won’t stay like this forever. Nature’s way is a cycle of death and rebirth, and though we fear and resist death with all of our strength, we must embrace her, dance with her, in order to return back to life. And, reflecting on the lyrics, I would argue that the world is growing more beautiful with each day, for there is beauty in every season. Vermonters know that well!
On a separate (but still related) note — I’ll be honest with you. I’ve not been singing much the last months. Like, barely once a week. I’m figuring out how to dance with death myself, discerning what needs letting go of. No, I don’t intend to stop singing! But I am shedding the expectations and certain parameters that latch onto you unknowingly when you pursue a career in music. Not to mention the “shoulds” that store up in your closet year after year until, one day, they come toppling out and knock you over. So when I recorded “Frühlingsglaube” yesterday, I sang an old song that I love. One that I sang at my Grandmother’s funeral. I sang for myself, and the golden maple outside my window, the chickens hunting bugs below it, and our neighbor girls chasing them. My voice feels a little rusty, but as Brenda Ueland shares, “one should never play a single note without hearing it, feeling that it is true, thinking it beautiful” (If you want to write). In the anxious race to win auditions and competitions and paid work, seeking the world’s approval, I’ve lost sight of that. But it’s precisely what I need to return to.
As you welcome this new season, I hope you awaken to the beauty around you, releasing what needs releasing, finding small joys in your every day, lighting a flame of hope in your hearths to sustain you.
Be well, as ever,
Stephanie