I just read an article lead that said "The surprisingly simple way to make weight loss stick." Of course, it sucked me in. The golden answer? Hang out with the right people who make you feel like you can do it. Ha, ha. Well, I'm not so sure it's that simple, but I do like hanging out with people who make me feel special and interesting and full of potential and vitality. People who make me feel like I sparkle. I had a phone conversation with a friend like that last night. Just an hour on the phone with her and I feel like I can do anything! And, that I should - do anything I want to, that is. And that anything that keeps me from feeling that way has no place in my life. RIGHT! Exactly. I really don't know how she does it, but she is magic.
Of course, in the light of day, sometimes those feelings just don't stick around. This has been a long, hard winter for me, emotionally and psychologically. I am inching my way toward the sun. I can see how I want to feel and be and how I need to get there, but I still have a hard time accepting how much time and work it takes to get yourself to a place where you feel confident and content and energized by your life circumstances rather than constrained by them. I want to feel like things are possible again, both personally and professionally. Possibility is probably the best thing out there. There's a lot of me that hasn't been getting nurtured and supported and utilized lately. It was kind of freeing to admit that to my friend last night. That I feel as though my awesomeness is not being tapped into deeply enough. And, that I don't need to feel guilty admitting that. And that, maybe, I can do something about that.
So, I have my ups and downs, but I am really inching my way towards some wisdom, I think. The sunshine helps. Today was so lovely. It was one of those roll-down-you-car-windows-and-play-Scarlatti-on-your-car-stereo-really-loudly kinds of days. Yep, Scarlatti. That's how I roll. And, one interesting benefit of having longer hair these days is that it feels more earthy and sensual to let the wind just whip your hair into chaos. It's a bit Thelma and Louise, although I don't plan on driving off any cliffs at the moment. I'm just happy on the open road.
Today was also a day where I feel like I did some good teaching. A nice lecture about the development of chamber music and art song in the early 19th century. The rise of the "domestic ideal," the increasing availability of pianos in middle class homes, the growing "amateur" musician class. Fun times. Some solid teaching of some non-major piano students and pre-college students. I felt energized by the teaching.
And, then that sunset! Iridescent. Gorgeous. The best part for me was looking in the opposite direction from the sunset and seeing how every single thing was bathed in that colored light. Just awash like a beautiful Monet painting:
Grainstack: Impression in Pinks and Blues
Really, I think some days that poetry and sunsets and playing the piano literally saves me. But also, things like this:
You guys, he is tap dancing in roller skates and singing about how he must be an awesome guy. This needs to play on a loop in my head.
And, more seriously, but also very enrichingly, I recently re-watched this:
I just adore Brené Brown. I want to be like her when I grow up. Actually, I want to be like her now before I grow up. She is amazing. In all of the right ways. The meaningful, for real ways. Brené Brown and Amy Poehler/Leslie Knope. These are my role models.
Also, I found this lovely poem, just to share with my dear readers:
Silence
Now it is time to say what you have to say.
The room is quiet.
The whirring fan has been unplugged,
and the girl who was tapping
a pencil on her desktop has been removed.
So tell us what is on your mind.
We want to hear the sound of your foliage,
the unraveling of your tool kit,
your songs of loneliness,
your songs of hurt.
The trains are motionless on the tracks,
the ships at rest in the harbor.
The dogs are cocking their heads
and the gods are peering down from their balloons.
The town is hushed,
and everyone here has a copy.
So tell us about your parents --
your father behind the steering wheel,
your cruel mother at the sink.
Let's hear about all the clouds you saw, all the trees.
Read the poem you brought with you tonight.
The ocean has stopped sloshing around,
and even Beethoven
is sitting up in his deathbed,
his cold hearing-horn inserted in one ear.
----Billy Collins
So much to love about this poem. I feel as though I am there, in the audience, waiting for someone to speak. At the beginning of something, even though so much has happened. Or maybe I am the person who has felt too overwhelmed by the din of voices and noises to be able to adequately express myself. Maybe I am about to speak. Or maybe I am both. Billy Collins does it again. Genius.
I have been thinking about my teacher who passed away in August. She comes to mind a lot when I am enjoying something or struggling with something. Oh, how I wish I could talk with her. So, it was quite touching to me that her daughter posted (on FB) a text that she sent last March 15 (when she was battling the cancer at home) - alongside a picture of a single blooming daffodil - "Spring sun makes me want lots of flowers, but one is just right, too."
I want a lot of things. But, dear reader, what I have in the present moment is just right, too. Thanks, Christine. You are still teaching me.
Thanks for reading.
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