Dear Reader:

I am not sure that I'm completely collected enough to write a worthwhile blog post tonight, but here goes....

The recital is finished.   There were several memorable moments for me.  The second movement of the Schubert had a couple of moments of transcendence where I actually forgot that there were people there in the audience.  I gave that Schubert (as a whole) my best and most complete effort possible at that moment, and honestly feel as though it was an accomplishment for me to keep my concentration and inner narrative consistent while playing that mammoth work.   The Ravel had some colors that were extremely gratifying - particularly (that night) in the third movement.   The Piazzolla had some fun rhythmic grooves.   There were, of course (as always), some moments that I wish I could have done over or done better, but you know what - there was communication and some beauty happening and, really and truly, I do love playing the piano.   I feel like my best self has the potential to show up during my playing sometimes.   Here's a Pablo Neruda poem that I regularly read before performances.  It encapsulates some of my feelings (on a good day) about performing.

Poetry

And it was at that age ...  Poetry arrived
in search of me.  I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.

I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names,
my eyes were blind,
and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire,
and I wrote the first faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom

of someone who know nothing,
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open,
planets,
palpitating plantations,
shadow perforated,
riddled
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the winding night, the universe.

And I, infinitesimal being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke loose on the wind.

*****************

I really am so, so lucky that I have this thing in my life that allows me to be immersed in it and communicate with it.  

So, really, where do you go in a blog post after that?   Well,  I will mention that I felt beautiful during the recital.   The dress was what I wanted it to be - sparkly, flattering, elegant.  But, it was more than the dress which made me feel beautiful, of course, it was the music.   And, I look at pictures of myself and think - not bad - but those pictures don't really get at what I was feeling.   And, maybe I need to accept that about myself.  The way that I see myself when I am not looking in a mirror or a photograph is the real way that I should view myself.  

My friend has written on her blog about the strange feeling that attention gives you when you lose a little or a lot of weight.   I have spent much of my existence trying to avoid attention.   I sort of treasure that there are few people who really "see" me the way that I really am.  You know, people who really "get me."   And, when I get attention - like the male colleague that I rarely see who looked me up and down the other day and said - "You are looking good, Lisa"  - it makes me feel somewhat uncomfortable.   Like I don't want people to admire my outside unless they have done the work to admire my inside.   You know what I mean, dear reader?   Anyway, having lots of eyes on me during the recital was an experience that I'll need to process.

I am in the post-recital phase now where I am overwhelmed by the amount of grading, laundry, meetings, business that I have to deal with now that I don't have the excuse of the recital to help me avoid all. of. the. things.   And, I'm feeling a bit emotionally and psychologically spent after giving out so much energy during the recital.   After a recital like this, it usually takes me several days to really regain my equilibrium.  And, of course, I am jumping right into a weekend trip to visit my Mom and help her sort through stuff in her house before she moves in a couple of weeks.   It will be one of last few times that I'll probably be in my hometown - the place where I spent 21 years of my life and have regarded as "home" ever since.  So, there's a little melancholy going on in me right now.

However, I am renewing my pledge to be vigilant and keep my healthy journey going.  In fact, I am planning to allow myself another week to pull it together  - energy wise - and then I am going to kick some things up a notch.   A food scale has been purchased.   I am going to start using a fitbit to track steps, etc.   We are going to do this thing.  

Here are my stats from today:

Still no weigh-in.  I'm giving myself a pass until I really get back into fighting psychological shape!

Total calories consumed:  1458
Total calories burned:  250 - walk around campus with friend

Breakfast (I'm trying some grapefruit):

Lunch (at the cafeteria - doesn't that look like a happy lunch?  Almost all veggies!):

Dinner (before and after):

Snacks:  scoop of peanut butter, lime/salt popcorn, two devil's food cookies

Well, dear reader, I believe that I must finish some laundry and grading (by the way, I answered 50 e-mails today and I've still got 75 left to answer.  Whew) before I collapse into bed.   I'll see you on Monday.  

Thanks for reading.