It's an absolutely perfect beautiful day outside today. And I have spent maybe 20 minutes outdoors. I've been talking online, writing, thinking...stressing. I had two things...well, okay, I always have a hundred things on my to do list, but I had two items that I REALLY wanted to do. And they're pretty much things that need to be done inside. So I've spent a large part of the day trying to compromise with my moral standards. Because I feel like I *should* be spending more time outdoors, and yes, I *want* to, but I also have other obligations and goals and things. I *want* to be in a place where my life is more stable and organized so that when a beautiful day like today comes along I can just go frolic and enjoy it. But I'm definitely not there yet. Still on that boat of trying to do too much.
Sigh.
I create these complicated equations in my head of how my life should be, or what it would take to get me to good and happy. Will I ever learn?
I tried asking my heart, right now, what would I like to do. And truthfully, I don't want to go outside, it's a beautiful day, and I hate to waste that, but maybe not every beautiful day is for me. Maybe this beautiful weekend is for my friend who's having a bachelorette party winery trip, or the woman I heard is having a luau party today, or any countless number of people who really needed it to be a beautiful day today. Maybe it's okay that I stay inside and do the things I need to....without guilt. Is that possible? We shall see...
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Thursday, June 07, 2012
Follow the yellow brick heart....
So the session was a success. I only played a few tunes with the group, tried to play along with a bunch I didn't know, but I was glad for going. As I sat there, listening to and at times playing the music I could feel this huge big sigh of relief in my soul. This is something I've wanted
to do for ages. At one point when the session leader was explaining something I
noticed his hands...they were nice hands. I always notice hands, and I noticed on this hand there was a wedding ring. As he talked about the
intricacies of key and rhythm and reels and jigs I thought about how I
always used to be very attracted to guys like that. How if this was 5
years ago (and he was single) I'd totally be interested.
But something shifted in me last night. I admired his skill, acknowledged my lack of that skill, and (here's the hard part for me...) thought about how that was okay...how perhaps if I had made different choices in my life I might have that level of knowledge and skill with music, but I didn't. Simple as that. But I still love music, and if I practice every day and make it as important in my life as it is to my soul, then maybe I'll learn and get much better, and maybe I won't need to look elsewhere for that. Maybe I'll have it in me.
The other thing I noticed, after I had slipped to the listening side of things, was a mother with her very tiny newborn. She was an older woman...possibly around my age, and she was alone. My mind filled with questions and musings on what her story was. What was an older mom doing here, alone, with a very new baby, on a Wednesday night, listening to Irish music while shushing her baby occasionally? She was sniffling a little at one point and I thought it was from a cold or allergies, but it very well could have been from tears. I don't know. I didn't ask...but I wondered, and part of me identified with this woman.
I was scared to go last night, but I knew I needed to. And following my heart it led me to a good place, and more importantly, a place where I needed to be. I'm starting to realize there is no end to the journey. There will never be a finish line, there will never be a trophy. There will only ever be the little rewards along the way, the plateaus or pit stops where you get to look around and say, "wow, isn't life grand." And then it's back into the fray, of living and learning, loving and growing.
But something shifted in me last night. I admired his skill, acknowledged my lack of that skill, and (here's the hard part for me...) thought about how that was okay...how perhaps if I had made different choices in my life I might have that level of knowledge and skill with music, but I didn't. Simple as that. But I still love music, and if I practice every day and make it as important in my life as it is to my soul, then maybe I'll learn and get much better, and maybe I won't need to look elsewhere for that. Maybe I'll have it in me.
The other thing I noticed, after I had slipped to the listening side of things, was a mother with her very tiny newborn. She was an older woman...possibly around my age, and she was alone. My mind filled with questions and musings on what her story was. What was an older mom doing here, alone, with a very new baby, on a Wednesday night, listening to Irish music while shushing her baby occasionally? She was sniffling a little at one point and I thought it was from a cold or allergies, but it very well could have been from tears. I don't know. I didn't ask...but I wondered, and part of me identified with this woman.
I was scared to go last night, but I knew I needed to. And following my heart it led me to a good place, and more importantly, a place where I needed to be. I'm starting to realize there is no end to the journey. There will never be a finish line, there will never be a trophy. There will only ever be the little rewards along the way, the plateaus or pit stops where you get to look around and say, "wow, isn't life grand." And then it's back into the fray, of living and learning, loving and growing.
Wednesday, June 06, 2012
The Rage Within
A month ago I requested today off so I could go to an Irish Music Session. I have always wanted to do this. I have always wanted to be able to sit in with the other Irish musicians and play tunes and share in the awesome Irish sound that I love.
Years ago I took lessons and learned a bunch of tunes. I wasn't great, but I thought I was almost decent enough to start going to these sessions. At the time they were held weekly in town. But just as I was starting to feel ready, they stopped doing the sessions. This is a recurring theme in my life, whenever I think I'm *almost* there....the road changes. But that's another topic altogether.
So I told myself I'd try my best to remember all those tunes I used to know, and get some new ones under my belt so I could sit in with the peeps and play with them. I had a month to do this...and I did try...but somewhere between the piles of manure, ridiculous allergies, depression, giving up coffee...somewhere in all that I ran out of time. So here I am, the house is a mess, but I'm not dong a thing about it, and I am playing my flute trying to relearn all these tunes.
And it's hard, no doubt, cramming always is. But what's hardest is this utter disgust and anger at myself that rises up in me. When I'm messing up the notes on a tune I knew by heart years ago I am filled with such rage at myself. Why couldn't I just practice enough to keep them to memory? Why do I waste so much time when there are real, good things that I want to learn and do? And the feelings of unworthiness are so strong, and there is so much anger. Why can't I just focus and get stuff done?
I had to write this, but now I am going back, and I'm going to learn a few more tunes, hopefully remember more than I thought I would. I am going to the session and I'm going to disclaim myself and my poor abilities to the fellow players before I join in. And I'm sure they will be gracious and accepting and forgiving, and I will do my best and it will be fine. But I've seen the face of this creature. This dark and vicious creature. I know its venom. Can I use it though? Can I transform it from a worth-gobbling monster into a fiery phoenix of dedication? That would be nice. We shall see...
Years ago I took lessons and learned a bunch of tunes. I wasn't great, but I thought I was almost decent enough to start going to these sessions. At the time they were held weekly in town. But just as I was starting to feel ready, they stopped doing the sessions. This is a recurring theme in my life, whenever I think I'm *almost* there....the road changes. But that's another topic altogether.
So I told myself I'd try my best to remember all those tunes I used to know, and get some new ones under my belt so I could sit in with the peeps and play with them. I had a month to do this...and I did try...but somewhere between the piles of manure, ridiculous allergies, depression, giving up coffee...somewhere in all that I ran out of time. So here I am, the house is a mess, but I'm not dong a thing about it, and I am playing my flute trying to relearn all these tunes.
And it's hard, no doubt, cramming always is. But what's hardest is this utter disgust and anger at myself that rises up in me. When I'm messing up the notes on a tune I knew by heart years ago I am filled with such rage at myself. Why couldn't I just practice enough to keep them to memory? Why do I waste so much time when there are real, good things that I want to learn and do? And the feelings of unworthiness are so strong, and there is so much anger. Why can't I just focus and get stuff done?
I had to write this, but now I am going back, and I'm going to learn a few more tunes, hopefully remember more than I thought I would. I am going to the session and I'm going to disclaim myself and my poor abilities to the fellow players before I join in. And I'm sure they will be gracious and accepting and forgiving, and I will do my best and it will be fine. But I've seen the face of this creature. This dark and vicious creature. I know its venom. Can I use it though? Can I transform it from a worth-gobbling monster into a fiery phoenix of dedication? That would be nice. We shall see...
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