Summoning the Muse

Jim to blog
Jim to blog

Meet Jim Meyer, my brother-in-law, my writing mentor, favorite wordsmith, and you might say thinking of Jim was always like summoning my muse. You see Jim always supported my writing efforts, encouraging, applauding, cautioning when necessary, but never sharing an ounce of doubt or negativity.

Unfortunately, with Jim’s death last November, I felt I’d lost that summoning power. Today that all changed.

Listening as I do everyday to our local classical station, today’s playlist included Elgar’s Enigma Variations, Op 36: “Nimrod.” Did I mention that Jim shared our love of classical music too? And it was Jim who introduced me to this amazing composition.

As its sounds began wafting magically from the radio, I dropped my head into my hands and started to tear up. That’s when it happened.

I sensed this incredible sensation that Jim was in the room with me, pushing and nudging me to stop wasting time, to get with the work at hand. Another of his characteristics. Jim waste time? Never! Jim move forward immediately? You bet!

That’s when I knew that I can still summon the muse via Jim’s voice, just not the one I used to be able to physically hear or sit beside over coffee or exchange thoughts with. The music we loved is my connector now. And I just happen to have a fully loaded iPod that was his.

How technologically savvy is the muse? I think mine’s on top of it all!

* * *

Take a moment to relax, close your eyes and listen to Elgar’s Nimrod:

11 thoughts on “Summoning the Muse

  1. Sherrey,How do you pronounce your name? That’s not what I came to say. This is a beautiful post about Jim. It was heartbreaking, yet uplifting. And gentle, somehow. I can feel you being gentle with yourself…something a friend keeps telling me to do.
    Thank you,

    1. Patti, I giggled at your question. You prounounce my name as if it was spelled “Sherry.” Thanks to my abstaining mother my name has an extra “e” so it wouldn’t be confused with the sherry imbibed by many she knew. 🙂
      Thanks for stopping by and reading about my muse and mentor and my recent experience. Jim was special, or I should say is special for he always will be to me. I am fortunate to have married his baby brother and fell into a family so much more harmonious than my own that life was like heaven on earth to me. And yes, be gentle with yourself, Patti. You can do it!

  2. Oh Sherrey, this is such a beautiful tribute to Jim. I feel like I have met him through your words and music. I am left feeling consoled that Jim will always be with you, only a symphony away. Thank you for sharing.Blessings,

    1. Kathy, thanks for your poetic prose. I’m so glad you feel as if you’ve met Jim, and oh, how I wish you could have. You and he would have been fast friends immediately! I’ll remember your words, “only a symphony away.”
      Blessings to you,

  3. Sherrey – this is a beautiful tribute to your brother-in-law. It’s funny how a piece of music can stir and inspire us and…bring back memories. And having Jim’s iPod is a like a gift that keeps giving.

    1. Joan, you know our senses are very instrumental in bringing back memories — sights, sounds, smells and more. We each ended up with an iPod — Jim was an Apple guy! On our train trip, we’d go to sleep to listen to his music choices. It was a comforting way to sleep on the train.

  4. Beautiful tribute, beautiful music, Sherrey. I love how you mingle the senses in this post. Elgar’s Nimrod, at once plaintive and comforting, takes me right back to my time at Oxford a few summers ago. Listening to music is such a spiritual experience, and your writing highlights that truth. Healing by Writing (and Listening in this case) is just the perfect name for your blog. How fortunate you are to still enjoy the legacy of your beloved Jim.

    1. Thank you, Marian, for your lovely words. Jim’s legacy is destined to be a long-lasting one for many who knew and benefited from him. It is hard to describe a man who was so instrumental in so many others’ successes.

  5. You were indeed fortunate to have Jim. And now you have the spirit of Jim, it’s all good. I cannot listen to music when I write. Often my muse is summoned by random day dreaming, something I see or sounds in the environment.
    Thank you for your reply.

    1. We were so fortunate to have Jim in our lives. And so were many others. He was an inspiration and encouragement to all, no matter their station in life. Daydreaming is good too! Many can’t have music on while writing. Perhaps since I was surrounded with music a lot as a child, I’m not inclined to focus on it.

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