Tuesday evening, Hope had sectional rehearsals for Philharmonic Chorus. Last Saturday, the chorus and the FWPhil and some traveling musicians sang the music of Queen. Tuesday, they were working on Handel’s Messiah.

And at the moment, I’m listening to side two of my three vinyl disk recording, released in the 70s of a performance in the 1950s.

I usually need quiet for writing, but there are a handful of classical pieces I can listen to. I’ve listened so much that the novelty has worn off. They don’t interrupt and they cover other sounds in the house that could distract me. I am distracted easily and often. Earlier today I was writing about grief, now I’m writing to you, thanks to Handel’s work centuries ago.

I’m not, however completely inattentive to the music. When I surface to look for the rest of a sentence, I notice.

“For unto us a child is born” is what I’m hearing right now. “And the government shall be upon his shoulders.”

I need to attend more to what I have in the background. The other day at the hospital, I decided that I could give up tracking my steps, which would allow me to leave my phone in the office. I walked to and from rooms without checking the socials. I survived, the world survived without me knowing about it, and I made some connections in several ways.

Perhaps the “the government is upon his shoulders.”

Hope’s work and my ears will meet on November 21, and I’ll hear Messiah live again. That evening, it won’t be background music. Perhaps I’ll have done more work on what’s going in the background.

“Glory to God, glory to God, in the highest. And peace…on earth.”