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seasons

My memoir is officially available for pre-order today.

That’s one of the craziest sentences I’ve ever written.

It is a beautiful spring day in Nashville, the very first one, in fact. How fitting. The birds are singing, the sky is clear, and the green things are reaching toward it. I am amazed at the complexity of life and how everything sometimes fits together, even for just a minute, like a perfect spring day. The more days that pass, be they spring, summer, winter, or fall ones, the more I know the thing to do is to recognize that.

Even though it may not seem like it’s fitting together through all of our stresses and problems, our joys and our tears, our triumphs and our failures, it IS in ways we can’t comprehend. But we always feel it when we turn the corner on something — we cast our glance backward and see how we were preparing for things to align.

It’s similar to a chord. Like the sweet spot on my Daddy’s Gibson B25 — I like to capo it on the 3rd fret and play a C — the notes combine to make a beautiful and perfect sound that would be different if the notes changed even one bit. I look forward to hearing it, but I also know I can’t play only a C chord capo’d on the 3rd fret. Other chords are usually required to make a song.

We break and we heal. We suffer and we laugh. We move and we shake and we rock and we roll and we persevere. We move forward with any hope, with love in our viewfinders.

When I started writing this book I didn’t know what I was doing. And I certainly didn’t think, if I ever turned it into a real something, that it would take seven years to have a little light shine on it. But what do you know? I did, and it is illuminated. And I see now how everything I ever did prepared me to be able to do that work and tell an important story.

On those cold February days, we think spring will never come. But it does. It does.

Peace and love and happy Wednesday, Y’all.

AM