I was such a mess when I was a teenager. Messy to the point that I spent my senior year of high school away from St. Louis in New York state, at Anderson School, a school for “emotionally disturbed children”. The population was largely people like myself, unwilling and/or unable to deal with life in any kind of sane fashion, and turning to drugs and bad behavior as a way to bash our way out.

It was a really good place for me- the rules were clear, the repercussions appropriate and enforced, and the staff caring and human. I felt safe there, and pretty much stayed in line.

I’ve always felt socially awkward (as I turn 70 this year, I still do, but I’ve learned to act and interact pretty well in spite of that feeling), and I didn’t develop a lot of friendships at the school. But I did hang out in the vicinity of some cool gals in the dorm, including some who played Joni Mitchell’s album “For the Roses”.

It was released in November 1972, about two months after I arrived at Anderson School. I’m sure I’d heard Joni Mitchell at some point; she’d had a few singles- Chelsea Morning and Big Yellow Taxi.

But there was something about hearing this album in its entirety that just stunned me. It was so very, very good.

I listened to it with the other girls at school, the cool ones. I (embarrassing to admit) followed the lead of another girl who copied the lyrics to “Woman of Heart and Mind” and gave it to her boyfriend. I had no boyfriend, but I mailed the hand-copied lyrics to a one-night-stand back in St. Louis. Unsurprisingly, there was no response. It’s a great song (they all are), and wildly beyond the emotional understanding or life experiences of a messed-up 17-year-old. To be honest, I was more moved by the song than by the guy.

At some point, I bought my own copy of “For the Roses”. I bought “Court and Spark” when it came out the next year, and purchased copies of Joni’s earlier album “Ladies of the Canyon” and the immortal, haunting album “Blue”. Then Joni grew exponentially faster than I could keep up, so I let her go.

So much music, so much good music, so many bands, so little time. And life got busy- college, marriage, recovery, children, jobs, and not nearly enough time to just stop and listen. Every once in a while, I’d revisit Joni’s albums, but at points, they were just four more albums in the midst of a sea of albums and cd’s, and then streaming started, throwing me even more awash in music.

 “For the Roses” is the only album, though, that I’ve owned in vinyl, CD, and download.

Last night I met with a friend, close to her place, a forty-five-minute drive from mine. It was a rainy night… On the way out, I plugged in my iPhone, and teed-up “For the Roses” on Apple Music, and all the words and all the music came back to me, flowed out of me, singing along with Joni, starting side one on the way out, and finishing side two on the way back.

I forget. I forget so easily, the life and heart and energy that comes from singing in a car by myself at high volume to really good music. From Breakfast Barney to the sign-off prayer; Sweet fire falling into Lady Relief; the arbutus rustling and the bumping of the logs, all the glorious lyrics and lush yet delicate orchestration, the album finishing with the ode to Beethoven, “Judgement of the Moon and Stars” which I believe should be required listening for everyone alive.

So, to Joni Mitchell, I say thank you. Your music was instrumental to me becoming a listener, present to beauty and grace. I’m grateful to have become aware of a world outside my scattered, battered heart and mind. Your music was like finding a crocus coming up, a little green, in the middle of my burnt-out internal landscape. Your music helped make life possible.