Spit-shined boots

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Encouragement, Music, Perseverance, Rehearsal

Woah! Spit-shined boots! This is my own private cliché. This is my exclamation when I experience that darkest moment that is just before dawn and I know by experience I will soon see the light at the end of the tunnel. 

Spit-shined boots happened to me again this morning. In my capacity as the new member of Musique, I was diligently, and exuberantly, rehearsing the tenor part for a song that has become one of my favorites. I have thought for a week now that I had the notes down and the memorization in the bag; yet, as I sang with confidence, I began messing up here; forgetting a word over there. Suddenly, the light dawned. Yes! Spit- shined boots!

I learned about spit-shined boots in 1972, from my first husband who was a stract trooper, in the army. Basically, this means he was strict about every last detail of appearance and behavior. Infatuated, starry-eyed, young bride that I was; I sat with him weekly as he spit-shined oxfords and boots. Under his instruction, I learned to do the process myself. Cotton ball, Kiwi, water. Kiwi, water. Kiwi water. Water. Kiwi water. water. My shoulders ached, my eyes were glazed. Just when I was exhausted, he would say, “more water.” Ah, I could see the shine developing under the cotton ball! We were almost done! Then, he would say, “more Kiwi.” The first time this happened, despair came crashing down on me. I so wanted to be done with it. With experience, I came to understand that more Kiwi did not mean I was starting over. More Kiwi is the final polish before the dazzling shine.

The tough moments in life; the times I have already invested too much to go back, but I despair of ever seeing the success of completion? Those are the times I encourage myself with spit-shined boots!

One Year To Live

As far as I know, I am in excellent health for a fifty year old – and I’m 57. But, think

With my daughter, Thanksgiving 2011

with me for a few minutes; what would change in my life if I was told I had one year to live? Gone would be the long-term goals. In their place, would remain stark priorities; things that could realistically be completed in 12 months if I stepped up the pace. I could not afford to waste any time. My bucket list would be overhauled from, “someday I would like to have a Phd. in Music,” to “what information and knowledge do I need, right now, to make better music?” “I want to be published, and achieve a certain amount of acclaim,” becomes, “I want to write my heart, get it all on paper, for the benefit of those who follow after and the great conversation.” Suddenly, it would be clear to me exactly what I wanted to do and what was important.
People who have only a year to live spend lots more time with family. They renew old friendships and polish up their relationships, making sure all those stories that need to be told are told; that all the words that need to be said are said; that all the missing pieces are put in place. I want to make sure to fulfill my mission, complete my calling, fulfill my heart’s desire, keep my soul in excellent heath by performing lots of music, walking, writing; and reading what philosophers and sages have written. If I had only a year, I would want to maintain good health and an attractive appearance, so that I might go out with a bang, sail into port grandly. To that end, I will cut my hair, iron my clothes, choose my wardrobe carefully. But, one year is not long enough for braces or facelifts. I want to invest in life-long friendships and loving and tending of family. There is no time to waste on pursuing or flirting with new relationships.

I will endeavor to live 2012 as though it is my last year. I will invest more time and soul in family, music, writing, spiritual and emotional health, and friendships. While I want to live as though I have been given only a year; I am not one who can live as though there is no tomorrow. Inevitably the doing of these things – travel to be with family for milestones and memories, daily needs of food and shelter- present financial challenges.
I want to be about the business of putting my house in order; settling my debts; reconciling my accounts; mending fences. A year of life is short. There will be challenges. Never-the-less, I have decided to live 2012 as though it is my one and only year to live.

Merry Christmas – It’s been a year

A year ago, I was living 1100 miles away from where I am today, working as a checker at Safeway in north Seattle, Washington. I was also writing on the side, practicing my keyboard in my cousin’s guest bedroom, and walking two blocks to the library six out of seven days a week to check my email, job hunt, and keep up with my friends on facebook.

A lot can change in 365 days.  I am now living in a beautiful little adobe house on the edge of public lands and walking trails, a few miles outside of Grand Junction, Colorado.  I am working full-time as a family focused personal assistant. I am self-employed, ideally suited to be a personal assistant both by education and experience; and my current client is very dear to me.

The people I work with

 But, what about the 365 days in-between?

In January, I went to work for a medical anatomical laboratory as a lab assistant, moved to a charming studio apartment in Edmonds, Washington; fell in love with the sea and decided to stay there forever. I took dance classes with my cousins and some friends I had known since junior high.  Eventually, I stumbled on a senior citizen band and became the piano player by default. It had always been my plan to fly my children up to visit and maybe interest them in collaborating on some sort of music business.  Or, maybe, I would just make enough money to travel to see them all the time. Abruptly, in June, my job came to an end. Not wanting to leave, I began beating the streets for get-by jobs, and interviewing for positions in my area of interest. My son Kevin; hearing that I was going back for a third interview at a preschool in need of a music teacher; communicated that he was in need of a personal assistant whose duties would encompass preschool, childcare, photo/video shoots, and various music business. Once again, I packed all my belongings in my Subaru (and on top) and drove the 1100 miles back to Colorado. Being a family focused personal assistant to a music and media oriented client is a perfect fit. Like any good personal assistant, I simply keep things organized and do all the things Kevin would be called on to do around the home and office if he were not out serving clients and making money. When he has a shoot out-of-town, and decides to take his wife Sarah as assistant; I stay round the clock instead of going home at night. If Sarah is doing books, I entertain the kids. If Sarah is engaged with the kids, I go assist with the video shoots or take care of office filing.

The most memorable highlight of the year was our family working vacation to Southern California. Andrea managed a week off college.  Philip flew from Ft Collins to Las Vegas to join us.  We spent five days together at a beach house in Dana Pointe.  And we…took a lot of pictures, of course! What a grand vacation with all three of my children and all my grandchildren.

The baby turns 21

 

Philip at 18several months. c

My baby is turning 21. In many ways, he has been behaving like an adult for several months.  He has his own house share, friends and a job.  For transportation, he rides a bicycle several miles to work.  Though he has not lived under my care for over two years, I still worry over him.  The other day, finding he was about to ride his bike to work in the snow, and feeling helpless from a distance of 400 miles, I urged, “Well, wear a helmet then; or, or do something safe.”  He laughed.

How can you know, when you send your boy off to college, whether he will come back to you and live in your nest; or whether you have released him forever and he will never be your little baby again?

How can you grasp, when he packs his unique clothes, his skateboard and guitar in his car; hugs you and goes out the door; that everything you have done for the past 18 years; every opportunity you have provided, every event taxi you have driven, every long philosophical conversation, every creative project; has been preparing him to go away from you? To be an adult?  To be independent?  To not need you.

Over the weeks and months, it begins to sink in. You start to acknowledge. If he wants to see you, it is because he wants to spend time with you for who you are, not because he needs you for life sustenance. He has learned to take responsibility for himself.

If he comes under your roof again, it will be because he wants to; not because he needs you. If he dines at your table, rests his head on your pillows, and snuggles in the quilts and bed of his childhood, it will be because he chooses to be there, not because of your authority or manipulation.

If he calls for advice, it is because it is your particular view and voice he wants to hear; not because he desperately needs counsel.  He has made a few quality friends over the years.  He speaks with grace and respect, adult to adult, with all those he meets-including you. He takes responsibility for his own support, housing, food. Maybe these character traits, now visible,have to do with the opportunities you were able to give him.

Watching a son become an adult is both a joyful and melancholy occasion.  You somehow feel you ought to be there; ought to be a big part of his life and celebration.  After all, you were a super big player in his birth 21 years ago.

Yet his desire to spend time with you for who you are, his mother, for better or worse; will have a lot to do with the relationship you formed with him for those 18 years you were together. It may hinge on whether you were able to accept him for who he was, to find and further his dreams and goals rather than locking him into your own.  He will like to visit with you because you like and accept who he is and who he is meant to be.  Because, if you have done your job thoroughly; he certainly will not need you to pamper or provide.

July 2010 Ft. Collins

Family vacation San Clemente October 2011

Oh, the bliss of holiday music

There is nothing quite like the joy of having heard a good musical concert; having seen an exceptionally  good movie; reading a good book; or going for a walk and having a great intellectual thought.   You find yourself crowing inside, wanting to say to everyone you meet, “Hey, the best thing just happened to me, I am overjoyed.”

What?  What happened?  Did you win the lottery? Meet the person of your dreams?

No, not that.  I…I just heard a perfectly executed, exquisite picardy third last night-from mere high school children; and I am undone.  

Sometimes one great musical moment is enough to make you forget any amateurish antics or dissonance that went before. Beautiful harmonies, well executed, heal the emotion if not the soul. I wish it were not so rare.

It happened to me once in Texas, at a state fair.  The midway was so noisy, the hawkers so abrasive, we acquired headaches and nausea and determined to leave early.  On the way to the gate, we saw that the President’s Own Marine Band was about to perform.  We detoured. The moment the huge bells of euphonium low brass turned our way, mighty decibels of perfectly pitched perfection went straight to our eardrums, soothing as only music can.

“Perhaps,” you will say, “It is all in the eye, the mind, of you – the beholder.”

Ah, yes, and may it continue.  I cannot think of anything better than to be a flesh and blood music amplifier.  Off to church now, in anticipation that the drums and bass will gently rock me toward even more gratitude to the creator for making me thus.

I lost my sole while out walking

October 21, 2011: I walked at length today near my new home, and though I lost my sole; I think I found at least a piece of my true soul. There are times when I walk; when the sun is shining and the temperature is perfect; that something like joy overtakes me. Have you had those excruciatingly wondrous times?  I hope so.  Occasionally it happens when I am playing the piano.  I call that playing in the spirit.  A few times, this same joy has overwhelmed me while out walking.  I like to think of it as walking with God. 

God is my absolute all time favorite walking partner. We can walk for miles and never say a word,

When I go out walking with God, he does not use the time together to scold me; to tell me what I should do.  In fact, he does not try to influence me in any way, except through gifts of good things and beauty. He doesn’t control me. No matter how fast or slow, or how long I walk, he simply bathes and restores me with nature and beauty.

I come back thinking, “I want to do this every day.”

When Debris Becomes Life

I love to walk. I loved to walk on the beach when I lived in Edmonds, Washington last year.

As I walked on the beach at low tide, I would see interesting debris; things the tide had washed in and then left stranded on the sand or rocks. Besides the usual crabs and kelp, there were empty soda bottles, food containers. Those didn’t stay long.  Either the tide washed them back out, or community minded folk who have adopted the beach strolled by and picked them up, delivering them to the proper recycle receptacle.

There are other relics on the beach; random poles not seen at high tide, remnants of piers and docks that used to be, which are no longer serviceable as anything but roosts for eagles and momentary resting places for seagulls.

From time to time, I saw some rubber gasket like things, about eight inches in diameter.  These were strewn randomly, sometimes caught between two well worn rocks, or half buried in sand.

There is an upscale marina located in the area, I took these halved donuts to be bits of boat or dock protective bumper apparatus.  How careless, thought I, in an otherwise well maintained marina and port; these things are not collected and recycled or tossed. A few times, I thought of asking someone, but just never got around to it.  

Early in July, I was able to attach myself to a noon hour, ranger guided tour of the beach at very low tide. It was here I learned that the supposed gaskets I had been observing were actually egg cases for the Moon Snail. When the Ranger told us this, I thought she was joking; pulling a seaside equivalent of a snipe hunt on us; particularly me, a born and bred inlander, newly arrived at the sea. Further research proved this to be a bonafide bit of marine biology information.

And now, I cannot help but wonder, how many things have happened in my life that I have considered debris, trash; that were actually life giving? How many jobs, friendships, or challenges have I tossed and recycled before they were hatched? How many times have I said, “God, you must be joking!”  When I was staring at a golden opportunity?

All in a day’s walk

How could I have known this morning when I sallied forth for a fairly routine walk, that it would turn into a 2 1/2 hour adventure down Holey Bucket Trail, connecting to Holy Cross, finally meeting up with the familiar Prenup, and then a two mile walk down Little Park Road to my house? The day was sunny and inviting and the walk could only have been made more delightful by the addition of my water bottle, which I inadvertently left setting on the table at home. I discovered this omission half a mile into my walk, but was not too troubled, since it is fall not blistering summer, and I did not plan to be gone for long.

Despite the recent cold snap, the sun seemed warm, so I risked striking out in my hoodie and gloves. Besides being black, the best thing about my hoodie is the pockets. In them are stowed the ubiquitous cell phone, house keys, and camera.

I made the choice, a few thousand feet into Holey Bucket, to keep moving forward; to see new trail. By the time I reached the juncture of Holey Bucket and Holy Cross, I mistakenly calculated that it was a shorter route to go forward, than to retrace my steps. I have hiked to Holy Cross before, via other trails, but apparently never this section. A mile or so into Holy Cross, I encountered snow; but before the trail met with Prenup, I had doffed my hoodie and tied it around my waist. Soon, I was rolling up my pant legs.

The day was absolutely gorgeous! Who knew that Holy Cross Trail actually boasts a cross? I didn’t. I have yet to see a bucket on Holey Bucket, though I have seen the clunker at the bottom of Clunker Trail. I supposed the name had to do with the shape of the trail as viewed from above; that, and the fact that it is a few miles north of Widow Maker and Prenup, is posted as rugged terrain, and that any biker taking the chance to look up, and not keep his eyes on the trail, would see that his nose was pointed directly toward St. Mary’s Hospital. Accordingly, he would involuntarily shout something like, “Holy Cross, Batman, I’m about to meet my maker!”

Speaking of meeting your maker, I do think I come quite a bit closer to knowing the Maker, and the purpose for which I am made when I spend a good deal of time walking. Many things become clear, centered. Much can be resolved, by simply putting one foot in front of the other and getting a fair amount of extra oxygen into my bloodstream

Loved for who you are, or what you do?

My daughter in law went to a women’s retreat recently.  She was away four days, so I moved in to help.  I made sure four children got three square meals and two hearty snacks each day.  I transported from school, did mountains of laundry, tidied; generally busted myself to keep everything done-to cover all the bases.  Why? Because I wanted her to be missed for who she is; not for all the work that she gets done.

According to this perspective; the family misses her because they love her, not because they are missing a meal or a clean pair of socks.

I mentioned this at a gathering to which I accompanied the children.  There was a collective sigh, and a nod. Isn’t that what we all want?  To be loved for who we are, not just all the work we do?

 

Admittedly, what we get done is a part of who we are. I am a “doer.”  Getting things done is a big part of who I am.  I am dependable.  I DO what I say I will do. I follow through and get things done. But that is just one part of my personality. I long to be lovable, for others to find me gracious, understanding, nurturing.

We may like to be acknowledged for what we do, for what we have accomplished. But in the end; do we not all want to be loved for who we are?  When we are away, do we not want to be missed because we are loved;  not for all the things that did not get done in our absence?

What is your opinion? Do you want to be loved for who you are, not what you do?  Or, is what you do an integral part of who you are?

All my prayers get answered, all my dreams come true — for other people

I feel like all my prayers are being answered and all my dreams are   coming true–for other people.  And, it makes me smile. It is cause for happiness, celebration and joy. What a wonderful feeling to know these things are possible; that education, hard work, sacrifice and focus really do pay off.

The ancient prophecy of Joel promised, “I will restore to you the years the worm has eaten.”  I was jubilant recently, when I witnessed the relational and material successes of a close friend whom I know has slogged through tough times and emotional pain.

The fact that other folks have received things I desire, is not grounds to covet, envy, or resent. It is grounds for celebration.  At times, I am tempted to ask what I have done wrong. Why are all my dreams and longings being answered in the lives of other people, but not in mine?  Maybe so they can be a blessing to me.

Over the past 12 months, I have been privileged to spend numerous days in the homes of various relatives whom material success has smiled on.  Yes, faithful dependable work and sensible investment have paid off, and they are more than willing to share hospitably. Recently, I spent 36 hours of R and R at a cousin’s.  Retired, yet youthful; she and her husband have just used the first two years post retirement to design and build their dream home.  I could soak in her claw foot bathtub, or the hot tub; write in the impeccably decorated guest apartment; or drink in the open landscape forever, while waiting on my dreams and answers.

Yes, recently, I have noticed that all my prayers are being answered — all my dreams are coming true– for other people.  I aim to celebrate and enjoy all their successes to the limit while I wait patiently for mine.