Closer to the Saddle, I Think

Progress, not perfection. What a great little nugget this is. So simple, profound, yet so easy to dismiss. I dislike being so hard on myself.  I think it's getting in the way of my healing. Perfectionism causes me to judge myself without care, without compassion.  I worry that I'm not grieving *correctly* or quickly enough. I often feel guilty for having a good day, or having fun.

But mostly, I worry that I'm just being emotionally or physically lazy during this time.  But I'm keeping going, and beginning to add things back in to my life.

One day, it's the garden; another it's cooking dinner or cleaning the bathroom. Yes. This is how slow-going  it is. It is possible, though, that my reluctance to jump back in too quickly has prevented me from feeling better. I walk a very fine line, and it's often confusing. Treat myself gently...Get back on the horse! Some days I negotiate all right, while others feel like an utter shipwreck. The pendulum swings, still, but not as widely.

Anyway, what I mean is that my desire and worry to do all things correctly ties me up in knots and paralyzes even my thinking process. So when I  have moments of "normalcy,"  I move like lightning, making plans, appointments, cooking, filing...living at warp speed to catch up from and/or to anticipate the next time my heart cracks and I am suspended in sadness.   This may sound like bi-polar disorder, but as I've said before, grief is kind of like that. In my high powered moments I've made too many plans and not followed through by writing them in my diary/calendar. I've missed a couple of appointments with the physical therapist--not something I would choose to miss--and have also started to resent certain commitments I've made. THIS I must work through.

I'm trying to live at normal speed, and I'm not quite ready to do it. Yet.

Just recently I tackled a demon of fear...getting back into singing. I've taken several months off with the exception of one song at a concert and singing at a friend's funeral. This is not singing. Not even maintenance. I'm talking about getting back in shape, as a runner would. The only person I would call, who is also the most judgmental, is my voice teacher of 17 years, L.  I started and finished my doctorate under her guidance, and I learned a lot more than just singing. She is really my role model in many ways.  A survivor of cancer, a brilliant mind, a ladylike exterior with the soul of a sailor, and an analytical ear beyond the realm of excellent. Singing for her after a hiatus is a frightening prospect. I stared our first lesson with , "I don't know what's going to come out." Her answer was, "Well, let's see then." And off we went for about 90 minutes of technical exercises. I committed , walked the line of trying to "listen" to what I was doing (never an efficient idea).  L is one of the few people in my life to whom I can give myself fully. As if I place my voice, in my hands, like a beautiful flower, and hand it to her. She knows just the right vase, just the right sunlight, and just the right amount of water. And then knows where to put it. She hasn't always said she liked the flower, but is willing to look at it for a while  She cannot hurt my feelings because I trust her appreciation, her judgment so completely.  There is no one else in my world that holds this honor.  So I brought my rep to her, prepared and ready to work. And i found I was capable of working. Capable of working and  processing information. NO SHIT!!!  This was a real shot in the arm for me. My heart opened up like a lotus flower, floating on a sea of kindness, L knows me, the different and difficult journeys I've taken, and luckily has never called me a complainer. Sometimes she loses patience with my lack of self-esteem. Can  you tell how much I value L in my life? Especially now, that my parents are gone.   To be honest, we three are a little family, but have only talked about it once in 17 years. L was pregnant around the time I was born, and she lost the baby. She and her husband G, were not able to have any more children.  For many years.....until I came along, there were special students, friendships and the like. One visit, about five years ago L and G told me their story about the baby and that she was a girl, near the time i was born (once they realized when I was born).  The call me their celestial child, but they don't talk about it any more. To know I am in their hearts as a child of sorts makes me very, very special. Especially now. And so I go to them for lessons....I spent two weeks with them back in March during my Odyssey, but never sang a note.  I listened to other lessons L was teaching, making notes for our kibbutz at the end, but I could not muster any strength to sing.

SO here I was, back in DC, four months later, for lessons, and coaching with a pianist. With  a purpose: presenting this recital program in several cities but needing to shop it out some more.  L gives me a realistic view of who I am when I cannot see it. I know she knows this, and she knows I am in need of this, particularly now. She inspired me to re -start my daily regimen of practicing, a good half hour a day. I am happy to do this, even though I know it will not be perfect. ( I send them cards around mother's and father's day, but never that specific)

Flying back to my home state, the one that has nothing I want, I took some well-needed naps, clear and unaffected naps. I arrived at my doorstep with a few hours to spare before meeting some girlfriend/students for the midnight premiere of the Twilight Saga's Eclipse. I pushed myself to go, when Id rather have had my jammies, no contacts, no artifice of teacher/student propriety. I Awkwardly joined the crew near 11pm, ad they were so gracious. I just felt out of whack from the day ,the experience, being 45 with a bunch of 20 somethings...it was a lot of fun, I remember telling my father about the premiere we attended back last time in November, and of course he thought I was nuts,,,but he smiled, like he got it. That was cool. L nd G do not get it . They are old school...people my age, in my profession do *not* hang out with their students, do not have multiple tattoos and use the word "Dude."  I baffle them as much as I endear myself to them, I am fortunate. There isn't a word that I know that describes our affection for each other. Adoration? Love? Hmmm Yes, but they mercilessly kick my ass about the "courage" tattoo on my wrist, the color choice of my hair. They haven't yet seen the flowers at the base of my spine-the flowers on my parents' gravestone.

Goooood visit. L said, as I was leaving, "Please come back, any time.' She rarely says things like that. A woman of few but meaningful compliments.

Back at home for two days, I now regrouped for most today, getting the airplane rides out of my body in preparation for two more flights  in another day.  About a month ago, on an energetic day, a friend contacted me, hoping I was going to this Conference in Salt Lake over the 4th...she plied me with compliments about my fun personality, and I realized that it was time to get back into my field as my sabbatical winds down. FINE FINE I'll go. Honestly my initial thought was "Yes! It's perfect timing." Now with only two days to turn everything around, I find the speed of this is too much for me. I worry about what to wear, especially heels, because I am mortally sick of "OH, my gosh you're so tiny." One day I will respond with a roundhouse punch to a bitch's face. Or at least a slap in the face. "OH, I had no idea your ASS was so big." You know. I will have my beautiful friend with me and she makes me feel beautiful, too. This conference is going to be about what interests me, and how many people i can meet that I like, increasing my networks of colleagues. I am shy about this, but my friend S has a knack.

So it seems that I am back in the saddle, but it feels a little hectic, a little disorganized. I hope my little mare is kind to me. My lists just have to be in large font. I can do it I dread the 'nice to meet you''chitchat....I am out of a few key inclusions this year...Do I have family? Yes,  a sister and an aunt.  I need to have a comeback to shut people down without being rude or uncomfortable. Maybe I'll sound mysterious...ooooooOOOOOooooooooooohhhh. Find humor where I can . Stick to the happy stuff.
Talk a LOT of shop with people who can. Enjoy some good food, hopefully at least one dinner in my jammies while watching fun TV>

Then pack it up sneak out, and fly home. Details to follow.