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2008
June 17 & Febuary 11
In all ways the first musing of the year needs to be pertinent, or at least hopeful. I can only speak for myself, but I see oodles of hope around me through this bleak wintery scope. I am getting more in-depth in my yoga practice, and that might mean more healthful eating and more general positive vibing, so…hope. I was asked to do a 40-day meditation and I took it on by golly. I’ve never done meditation (except for a couple relaxing audio cd’s) so this is new territory, but quite fine. Sitting in meditation is hard to do when you’re an energetic fury, but I sat with these beads (that really resemble and probably pre-date rosary beads) and chanted my "mala." It didn’t bother me. My only concern was that a neighbor walking his or her dog might catch a glimpse of me at the table near the window, but then I figured: I already have full license in my sweet little suburb to be as nuts as I want. I have been elected and accepted as “that girl who sings," which, around here, is something unique. I went to a special yoga class last night and saw someone I had spent an evening with several months ago. She didn’t recognize me at all in spite of my persistence in knowing her, until I said, “well…I’m a, um, singer…?” Her response was, “OH! Of course, you’re THE SINGER!” A common refrain. This title actually frees me; it's my instant clearance. I don’t have to be the perfect soccer-mom or the well-dressed PTA rep, when I have already been deemed perhaps a little peculiar by others who seem graciously willing to accept someone slightly off the beaten track. What a relief! I even feel loved when I arrive at the pickup line in tattered sweats and uncombed hair. In fact, tattered and uncombed is the general expectation. Nobody blinks an eye. How freeing! (It’s when I emerge all dolly that people look askance). But this "whacky neighbor" image really serves me and, as a result, I am free to serve this community in many ways, or chant a mala or two in the back yard. I am going to be singing at the upcoming 4th of July event and the two commitees I'm on for the school board have been rewarding, welcoming experiences. I hope they never realize how "conformistic" I can, at times, be.
April 1
You sort of want to do something significant. You've learned a few skills. Maybe you're even decent at a couple, so much so that folks will spend money for them. You want to contribute, make a mark. You don't know how to do this, but you know you are going to do something. Something is brewing and buzzing below the surface. Something is yearning to unfold. Something beyond picking paint colors for the bathroom. Something that must be obvious to someone somewhere along the astral plane, but you have no bloomin' clue just yet. The crysallis is a cage; the wings furled up. Spring is finally arriving in Chicago and even she is a little perplexed.
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