For many years, I’ve noticed the subtle presence of natural affirmations in my life. As I wrote in the “Silent Support” chapter of Wild Grace: “I find that as a reward for creating harmony, for compassionate steps taken, for pure hard choices I’ve made that keep me along the path of the heart, the quiet affirmations offer themselves. A coincidence of birds at a moment of my own song; a falling star’s timing attuned to a good decision—it’s these kind of messages I hear as affirmations.”
Perfect weather on June 13th was another of these affirmations, the day of Gypsy Soul’s concert at the Britt Festivals, celebrating the release of our collaborative CD Grace and Tranquility. To be blessed with the best day of warmth in weeks was one of many affirmations to greet our collaboration thus far. The mere existence of the concert was an exceptional affirmation itself: to headline the opening night of the Britt season—preceding other summer performances from Jackson Browne, Jimmy Cliff, Taj Mahal, the Black Crowes and many others—is an honor we don’t take lightly, and our gratitude is boundless.
As I stood in the wings waiting to introduce Gypsy Soul, years of other backstage Britt memories flashed through my mind: Watching Natalie Merchant do ironing shortly before showtime. Talking music and basketball with Bruce Hornsby—a man who truly, humbly loves his life—after watching him teach music to Bela Fleck in soundcheck that they never ended up performing. Wondering who that kid was at the backstage piano before another performance, and discovering it was Jamie Cullum himself, much smaller than his explosive stage energy. Feeling disturbed by the intensity of Ani DiFranco’s security team. Being completely welcomed in a warm and curious way by Lyle Lovett, a true southern gentleman in the formal way he approached personal connection after the concert. Watching Mark Knopfler disappear out the side gate in the back of a car before the house lights even came on after his last encore. Other memories flood on. So many brilliant talents have graced the Britt stage and dressing rooms; to be there is to sense all of the moments and talents at once. To become part of the tradition is to slide into the flow of a large and holy river.
The greater river is music, and to enter it gracefully is to approach it from a place of service rather than ego. That’s our goal with Grace and Tranquility—to deepen our own tranquility by bringing it to others—and the launch evening at Britt was an unforgettable start. To share our creation with nine hundred others on a perfect warm evening in Southern Oregon’s best outdoor venue was magical. The weather, music, crowd, setting, friends… all couldn’t have been better. I can only hope that in our small way, we contributed in some small way that night to others’ own daily quest for tranquility. It’s a quest that’s never over, which means that now is another perfect, affirming moment at which to begin again.


