Songs & Stories From Home: Audio Mark Pearson

My cousin Jane was diagnosed with breast cancer in the fall of 1992. At first she and I talked about cancer simply as a bump in the road. I promised her I would send her a postcard every Friday until she was cancer free. Some 70 Fridays – 70 postcards later – she was gone.

Not long after the election of 2016 I made a promise to myself, to my art and craft, that I would not let the constant shameless lies and fear mongering that have infected the national narrative affect what I was doing – hoped to do - as a singer, songwriter, and storyteller.

For a long time I wanted to believe that if I found and faced and freed my fears they would no longer scare me. I learned the best I could do was go from living in fear to living with my fears. It’s enough.

We will be talking here often about the many different ways I believe songs sung, stories told, and love shared can lead us home – because of the role popular folk music has played and continues to play in my life – I thought I would start by talking about the power of that music – as well as how far we can see sometimes in a darkened room or when our eyes are closed and we are simply absorbing and absorbed in the music.

When I came off that stage at Benaroya Hall believing I was “home,” home was not a place I was returning to. In so many ways it was a place I was arriving at for the first time. On one hand it meant – means – that I was finally home with myself – who I am and what I’m doing. Yet that has been a gradual process over many years – not something that happened suddenly or overnight.

This song was the final song of a musical memoir, Season of the Heart, which I wrote and performed to celebrate my father’s life a year after he died. Twenty years later I appreciate more than ever the power of blessings both given and received.