“...the wren from Carolina buzzed
through the neighbor’s hedge
a line of grace notes I couldn’t even write down
much less sing.”
—Mary Oliver, “The Wren from Carolina”
The first time I encountered a grace note was a Johann Strauss waltz in my John W. Schaum piano book. Grace notes are those “extra” notes that add to lyrical, lilting melodies—notes not technically part of the music, but rather inserted, almost casually, ahead of the primary notes. My ten-year-old fingers lacked the grace necessary to make them sound natural, never mind additively beautiful.
When I play the piano now, grace notes are a pleasure to incorporate because they strike me as creative whimsy. They provide a tiny space for me to insert myself into the music—a slight rubato (hesitation) or staccato (sharp strike), and the song becomes mine, too.
I find grace notes in language, too: The sun rose becoming “The first light of day broke gently, gilding the distant snow-capped mountains” takes a utilitarian, brute exercise to a finely woven shared understanding.
I notice grace notes everywhere, in fact: in the the lengthening of a hug—the moment where I confess,“Not done;” in the fragrant steam of soup cooked with love, reminding me that there’s magic and alchemy in nourishing my beloveds; in the purr of a cat: contentment embodied in the warm presence that demands I slow down and be still for a moment.
I spent so long seeing everything in terms of absolutes: black and white; right and wrong; whole notes and half notes and perhaps a run of 32nd notes on a special occasion. My childhood trauma had convinced me that it was easier to categorize things in concrete terms as a way to protect myself from exposing myself to the shadowy places that live in all of us.
It was the grace of friendship and spiritual connection that opened me up to healing and growth in middle age to discover the unexpected and extraordinary relief of living in the gray spaces.
But it’s the grace notes in the song of life where I find space to claim a place for me—entirely me: the me I am still, delightedly, getting to know even now.
Prayer
May I always seek the wisdom, beauty, and whimsy in the grace notes of life.