Part 3: Trust, Again

Chapters

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A drive from Oregon to Florida, to experience music and living across the USA, and ultimately join a jazz cruise. AKA, a listening practice, unfolding in real time—written on the road, in the spaces between cities and notes.

Day Two (Evening)

The Sheba Piano Lounge
San Francisco, CA

Driving through San Francisco at night—especially the Fillmore—can be treacherous. Four lanes of traffic. Tight turns. And my secret weapon: a large Yakima rack with my bike jutting confidently out the back, shrinking every margin by half. I'm tense. A little scared, if I'm honest.

From his carrier he looks up at me with those doe eyes, "What are we doing now, Mama?"

"Mom's just doing her thing again, little Maxi-pants."

He accepts this explanation without complaint, gazing up like the best boy in the world—conveniently forgetting that just hours earlier he was barking hysterically at every dog in Golden Gate Park, vicious or benign, no distinctions made.

By the time I make it through the city, my shoulders finally drop.

The Sheba Piano Lounge is a gift. Rockstar parking. Chardonnay with a dear friend I haven't seen in years. One of those effortless reunions. A tight trio. A cozy room that holds sound gently. A warm welcome. A room that listens.

I hesitate before accepting the invitation to sing. My voice is only recently recovered, still not quite where I want it. But we choose a few tunes, and I commit to just one. Trust, again.

I choose "All of Me."

When I sing, I offer what's there—rhythm, care, conversation. It's enough.

Trust isn't having everything. It's offering what's true.

Miles ahead.

To Be Continued / See Chapter List At Top