Dear Reader:

I am so tired.  So very, very tired.   Some things are done after this week.  Big things.  But, I'm so tired I can't really generate enough energy to feel much of a sense of accomplishment.   I mean, these past weeks have been beyond the pale.   No room for breathing.   No room to generate perspective.  And, dear reader, you know that I live and die by perspective.   I am convinced that I can claw my way out of any dire situation (whether dire in reality or in the recesses of my anxious brain) by way of perspective.  But, unless I have time and space to create perspective, things are grim.   OK, so now I am taking that time by writing this blog entry.   I had hoped to take an entire day off (since I have a church job and various kid activities on Saturdays - today's line-up included a soccer game and a birthday party - I rarely get a full day off...) on Monday.   I was going to cancel my one class and three lessons in the afternoon.   However, two meetings got scheduled.   I can't really see my way out of them.   So, I'm going in and doing it all.   Keeping my eye on Thanksgiving and the beach.

I had a performance last night.   It was a nice evening, but I was disappointed in my solo performance.  I had an extremely magical run-through of my two Debussy pieces that afternoon, but nerves got in the way in the evening performance and it wasn't as beautiful and seamless as I wanted it to be.  I had two memory slips in the first piece of about 4 measures each.   I recovered instantly and had some really good moments toward the end of the piece - I loved the sound of pianissimo that I was able to create on this particular piano in this particular hall and acoustic.   The second piece was a bit more polished, memory-wise, but I wasn't able to control the articulation and dynamics the way I knew I could.   I only felt truly comfortable in the piece during the last few pages.  First time on the Arts Center stage. My colleagues rocked the house.  It was good to be together on that stage.  So, I suppose I forgive myself for not being perfect.  And, really, considering all that I have been doing these last weeks, I have to pat myself on the back for bravely going out there and putting myself on the line.   I know that it is the right thing to do, even when it feels uncomfortable - as it did last night.   I do learn things from it, mostly that the trying has serious merit.  The trying is really everything.   And, if I was to let my imperfections keep me from trying, it would be a darn shame.  Too much music (also, love.  also, life.) is not made because of fear.    Right, dear reader?

So, back to perspective.   I had a nice moment today when I was driving the kids to their friend's birthday party and we were on some back roads with the clear, crisp, clean autumn sunlight on the fields beside the road.   I saw a scarlet tanager taking wing off of an old fence.   I haven't seen one of those brilliantly colored birds in a LONG time.   I love the vibrancy of its scarlet hue and the contrast of the velvety blackness of its wing.   Here's an example:

You know what else I used to see regularly when I was a kid that I don't see much anymore?

Indigo Bunting.   This picture doesn't even do justice to the colouriciousness of this bird.   (I'm pretty sure that colouricious will be in the next edition of the OED.  For sure.)

So, that's some beauty and perspective.   No matter what's going on in my work or personal life, these gorgeous creatures still exist in the world.

And, although I know that my daughter likes to stall bedtime and is responding to the fact that my modus operandi with people that I love is to tell them repeatedly and passionately that I love them (why should we waste time worrying about whether or not repeating something too much makes it mean less?  That seems, pardon me, completely asinine.  If you love somebody, SAY IT.   SAY IT.  SAY IT.)  So, apparently, my daughter has learned this lesson from me.   Case in point.

Perspective.

And, dear reader,  this lovely volume of sparkling jewels came in the mail today:

You know me.   I can't stand not sharing.  So, here's a few to keep you wanting more....

Don't Worry

Things take the time they take.  Don't
   worry.
How many roads did St. Augustine follow
  before he became St. Augustine?


Moments

There are moments that cry out to be fulfilled.
Like, telling someone you love them.
Or giving your money away, all of it.

Your heart is beating, isn't it?
You're not in chains, are you?

There is nothing more pathetic than caution
when headlong might save a life,
even, possibly, your own.


That Little Beast

That pretty little beast, a poem,
  has a mind of its own.
Sometimes I want it to crave apples
  but it wants red meat.
Sometimes I want to walk peacefully
  on the shore
and it wants to take off all its clothes
  and dive in.

Sometimes I want to use small words
  and make them important
and it starts shouting the dictionary,
  the opportunities.

Sometimes I want to sum up and give thanks,
  putting things in order
and it starts dancing around the room
  on its four furry legs, laughing
  and calling me outrageous.

But sometimes, when I 'm thinking about you,
  and no doubt smiling,
it sits down quietly, one paw under its chin,
  and just listens.


A Voice from I Don't Know Where

It seems you love this world very much.
  "Yes," I said.  "This beautiful world."

And you don't mind the mind, that keeps you
  busy all the time with its dark and bright wonderings?
  "No, I'm quite used to it.  Busy, busy,
  all the time."

And you don't mind living with those questions,
  I mean the hard ones, that no one can answer?
  "Actually, they're the most interesting."

And, you have a person in your life whose hand
  you like to hold?
  "Yes, I do."

It must surely, then, be very happy down there
  in your heart.
  "Yes," I said.  "It is."


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

Perspective, my dear reader.   Perspective.   Sigh.   Ah, there's hope for me yet.  :)

Thanks for reading.