Marveling over moments that make my soul sing.
Last night I was messaging a friend and shared an acoustic recording of a song from the 80s that I find breathtaking. In return, my friend sent something for me to watch/listen to; but unfortunately, the link gave me an error message and by that time, my friend had gone to bed.
This morning I was scrolling through facebook before getting out of bed and among the videos that had recently been posted was a recording of a French figure skating couple - a breathtaking performance to a well-known song from the 1960s; which I had seen before.
A couple of hours later, I receive another message from my friend. . . telling me what song to search for. . .
Not only had I seen/heard the version my friend was directing me to, but it was the very same piece of music said figure skating couple performed to.
My soul was glowing.
So what was the song, you ask?
And here are the French figure skaters. . .
Synchronicity?
So as I listened, I was reminded of an article I read last year about the story behind the song. . .
Art Garfunkel had finished college and was pursuing music with Paul Simon at the time it was written, but the song goes back to his days at Columbia University in New York City.
Therein he met a fellow scholar called Stanford Greenberg. The pair quickly became close friends. Then, suddenly, tragedy struck when Greenberg was watching a baseball game and his vision descended into a blur. He was informed it was merely conjunctivitis, but when he completely lost his sight, it was clear that he had been misdiagnosed. Sadly, glaucoma meant that his optic nerve was no longer functional, and Greenberg was declared blind.
He became reclusive and left college in a slump of depression. However, Garfunkel willed him back. He offered up a hopeful beacon to Greenberg to show that he might have lost his sight, but everything didn’t have to perish along with it. Thus, Garfunkel promised to walk him to classes, guide him around campus, and offer up his constant support. The folk singer even adopted the moniker Darkness as a mark of empathy when he was with his troubled friend.
However, knowing that his time beside his friend was numbered, Garfunkel was keen to usher him towards independence. One day, while at Grand Central Station, Garfunkel had to urgently return to university for an assignment he had forgotten about.
This meant that Greenberg was abandoned in the hectic melee of New York at its busiest. Despite calling it the “worst couple of hours” of his life, Greenberg persevered and made it back to university where Garfunkel grabbed his arm and told him that the exam was a ruse and he had followed him home the whole way, congratulating him on his independence.
Sometimes I lament over humanity. But then I hear stories like this and my faith is restored. There is a lot of good in the world; we just need to look for it.
YouTube then showed me a classical composer's commentary about Disturbed's version of this folk anthem. And I agree 100% with everything Doug Helvering says. . .
And now I'm off to search for the piano sheet music. . .
P.S. Here is the recording that I find breathtaking. . .