It's day 7 and I am proud to say I have completed a beginner lesson. Have a look.
Monday, July 25, 2016
Making of a Banjo Player
It's day 7 and I am proud to say I have completed a beginner lesson. Have a look.
Saturday, July 23, 2016
Stamina exercises
It's not like this injury sidelined me from running. I did that voluntarily. Zoe noticed on my blog history that I had only posted twice this year (on this blog). Nothing to post.
I started taking antidepressants a little more than a year ago. And oral contraceptives. And at first I was obsessed with the changes I noticed. Everything evened out. No more wild highs and lows. Big improvement. But running made me feel tired and heavy. I remember trying to do the distances I'd been doing, and not feeling the compulsion to reach for a goal. I would hit the path, and aim for the lakefront, and sit and rest there. My 5 mile lunch runs suddenly turned into 1.5 miles. The four and five-finger signs my coworker used to hold up to ask how far I'd run were met with eye rolls because I didn't want to admit my failure.
Soon I felt like none of it mattered anymore. I stopped buying running shoes and apparel and went back to decadent lunches of burritos and cheeseburgers. I told myself a fat layer wasn't something to be ashamed of. It's not! But after seeing myself 15 pounds lighter earlier that year, I have to admit I didn't like the direction I was heading in.
Now I can't even picture that leaner self. I dreamed of getting back on the wagon this summer, in preparation for a new fit life in one of the world's fittest cities. I'm still dreaming.
But enough of the wallowing. I'm here, it wasn't easy to get here, there's a good chance I can work back up to my former fitness once this leg thing is healed. I realize that these days I spend ruminating about my situation could be spent building other valuable strengths. When I'm painting I feel enmeshed in the process. My detail-oriented brain takes over and tells my hands how to manipulate the thing in front of me. I get a thrill out of stepping back and seeing what I've made, and a giddy satisfaction that it wasn't even "me" who made it, but my higher self, which isn't easy to conjure. Today I picked up my banjo. Immediately started to tune the 5th string and snapped it. Not unlike my fibula. No worries, there was a spare. I found a tutorial on YouTube and tried to learn the picking sequence for Cripple Creek. In another hour I was sort of--almost--slowly--playing the banjo! After several attempts to teach my muscles a pattern, I dreamt of how much easier it would be after I practiced for a week or two. And then added on another section. By the end of the year I might know this song by heart. That's how I learn, through observation and mimicry. Music is the one thing--and maybe art restoration too--that can be learned that way. In fact, it demands it. It takes repetition, determination and faith that the outcome will be worthwhile.
The only feature film I've seen this year was Finding Dory, on my birthday. I'd have seen it even if I didn't take my daughter. I saw the first Nemo movie before I had her, and it was breathtaking. This one didn't disappoint either. There's one lesson I keep coming back to from Dory. She becomes lost easily, like we all do. And she never worries that she's out of options. There's always a way. She goes with the flow and it always seems to take her (eventually) to where she needs to be. At one point she triumphantly arrives where she thinks she needs to be, in fact where all signs say she needs to be. It's the place where her inner child/fishling tells her to go back to. But it turns out to be the wrong place for her to be. She is needed elsewhere, and she can only be her true self if she stays on her course. So she again has to make her way back out into the world to reclaim the life she was meant to lead. I think it will win an Oscar. Just kidding. But it is a really great moral, one that probably goes way over the average kid's head. I too struggled to reach a place that my inner child, my inner adventurer told me to go. But until I reach deep down and figure out where, or even if, I belong in this foreign place, the puzzle remains unsolved.
Wednesday, July 20, 2016
Broke.
I followed my heart in vain to this magical place where the sky vibrates bright blue every morning and stuns with rainbows and light shows in the evening. My compulsion to see it all filled me with an uncanny energy. I wanted to see every lake, summit, wildflower, sunbeam. I relished the feeling of falling in love. I lay awake in the darkest hours wishing for the sun to come up so I could have another adventure.
I've been reliving the events of the past month, and sorting through the feelings of regret, guilt, confusion, embarrassment and exhaustion that have thwarted any sense of peace that I had anticipated during the 1000 mile journey to my new home.