Common

One of the experiences I most appreciate in Butte is the sense of community.  In the past two days, I’ve had the blessing of joining with others to celebrate that community.

Last night we celebrated the life of our friend George.  Over the course of seven hours the musicans of Butte and the surrounding area donated their time and talent to sing and play in a joyful expression of one of the aspects of life that George loved – music.  His dad, a wonderful jazz musician, began the evening – and there were three stages spread over three of the floors of MoFAB where we heard rock and reggae, folk and bluegrass … fiddlers, guitarists, drummers, mandolin players … bass guitars, saxophones, and keyboards all let loose … not necessarily to ‘entertain’ but more to join us together in common feelings.  To remind us over and over again of the strength of our community.

I wandered from floor to floor enjoying the music of friends, and those I’d never heard before.  Over and over again I was blown away by the talent that was, for the most part, free of ego and glorification of the self.  There were very few exceptions.

This afternoon, the art foundation had a gathering for the people who donated $100 and more to the most recent fundraiser for the Venus.  We had a plaque made and put up on the wall – and it was wonderful to see that little rectangle represented over $4,000 of generous hearts.

I sat surrounded by friends, silent for a time, and felt that rather than warming my hands by a fire – I was warming my heart in the common experience of willingness to support that which is good and worthy in  a community.  I felt the same way last night as I sat with friends, listening to Chad, Tim, Christy, Shawn, and a host of others – as I chatted in hallways and on stairwells.

Both gatherings included a range of ages, of social status, of educational background.  There were nursing infants and old, old men holding onto canes and dancing with their old, old wives.  There were flocks of teenagers rubbing shoulders with professors and miners, musicans and shopkeepers, poets and accountants.  There were suits and cocktail dresses chatting with ripped jeans and sweatshirts.  And through it all was the thread of a joyful noise – music and voices raised to the common experiences of life and death.