My habit is to sing songs I already know. There was a time when I eagerly aspired to memorize fresh ones, buying guitar books, and listening to records. Those details alone can tell you how long ago it was. 

 

But mostly I cling to the familiar. I could fabricate reasons why, or simply admit it. Which I am.

 

This week, the music director invited me to join him for a song that is as old as me, though I am learning a new part. Even this small effort has been a chance to jiggle me out of complacency. The duration of the entire piece is about three minutes, which is less than a tenth of the time I have spent this morning going over it. At some point, it morphed from practice to pleasure. Singing is fun, it turns out. Plus, I think I will be ready to perform it. 

 

In some ways, life on this planet is a chance to practice being angelic. We may not automatically exhibit generosity, and compassion. Yet, opportunities arrive with frequency in which those attributes help everyone involved. 

 

There are arenas in which I am less than generous. Fund-raisers, sometimes, bring out the Scrooge in me. I am not a big tipper in restaurants. But inviting couples out for coffee to chat is one scenario in which magnanimity arrives. The looming to-do list flutters to the floor while John and I enjoy the company of two people we want to know better. 

 

The chaplaincy program was a way to plunk myself squarely into a position of empathy. Of the five people giving attention to a given patient, I was the only one focusing on spiritual and emotional needs. 

 

Maybe with a lot of practice, generosity and empathy will feel as easy as crooning a song with friends.