I have very good days and very hard days. Just like you. On the very hard days, I try a number of things to get back in tune. Different things work on different days. Social media never works. Dogs are a pretty reliable win. Poetry has never let me down.
Naomi Shihab Nye wrote this in one of my favorites of her poems: “I want to be famous in the same way a pulley is famous, or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular but because it never forgot what it could do.”
This is me being the very best buttonhole I can be:
I remember this day. It was a terribly sad day for me because it was the last performance of a band I had played with for almost fifteen years.
Here I am happy though because I am useful. I love these three dancers and their joy gives me joy. Dance needs music and music needs dance.
Thank you, Tréa Champagne and the Champagne Academy of Irish Dance for being my buttons.
The international Irish dance community has suffered a tremendous loss in the death of beloved young dance champion Ian Luebbers.
Today is an important day to reflect on the truth that we all belong to each other and what’s most important is how we can love each other best in this world.
Without my buttons, I’m just a hole.
There are some professional opportunities that only present themselves every once in a blue moon. I find myself in the midst of one right now as we wrap up what has been a pretty terrible year overall.
Please don’t misunderstand. Personally, all is well. My family is delightful. My work is diverse and fulfilling. I have a wonderful set of students who I am fortunate enough to spend time with every week. Taking a broader view though, our nation has voted itself into the idiomatic handbasket. We are in peril.
Living with anxiety offers valuable lessons and tools to me every day. One of the most essential tools has been adopting a terrier-like commitment to releasing all that which I cannot control, which is to say, nearly everything.
From where I’m sitting, art is the only satisfactory channel for processing my human experience.
Fun Home by Jeanine Tesori and Lisa Kron (based on Alison Bechdel‘s award-winning graphic novel) is one of the most powerfully honest and beautiful musicals ever created. From my perch in the onstage six-piece band, I get to experience it repeatedly with new lessons revealing themselves every time.
I took on this project because of how much I have loved my previous work with director John Cameron and musical director Janelle Lauer but I wasn’t overly familiar with Alison Bechdel when I came on board other than as the inspiration for the Bechdel test. This is actually my favorite way to approach a project; total immersion from a previous place of ignorance. There is so much potential for growth when one has so much yet to understand.
There are still four more opportunities to see Fun Home at the UI Theatre Building. The cast and crew are so talented, so consistent in their portrayal of this beautiful and heartbreaking story, and such kind and invested people. And the band? Well, I don’t mind telling you that the band rocks. No other possibility exists under the music direction of the inimitable Janelle Lauer.
I know this production will change you. What other reason do we have to be here?
I have a very smart and compassionate friend who shared with me this mini-comic that Alison wrote as a coda to Fun Home opening on Broadway. I really hope you click through to Vulture to read the whole thing.
Slide 1 of 9. View the rest of the mini-comic over at Vulture.
Dannye is as gifted an interviewer as she is a writer and we had a lot of fun discussing creativity and parenting along with many other things we have in common.
Stop on over to read my interview and check out her other interviews and stories as well. Dannye is a wonderful person to know, especially if you are inspired by looking on the bright side of life.
Song of a Man Who Has Come Through
by D.H. Lawrence
Not I, not I, but the wind that blows through me!
A fine wind is blowing the new direction of Time.
If only I let it bear me, carry me, if only it carry me!
If only I am sensitive, subtle, oh, delicate, a winged gift!
If only, most lovely of all, I yield myself and am borrowed
By the fine, fine wind that takes its course through the chaos of the world
Like a fine, an exquisite chisel, a wedge-blade inserted;
If only I am keen and hard like the sheer tip of a wedge
Driven by invisible blows,
The rock will split, we shall come at the wonder, we shall find the Hesperides.
Oh, for the wonder that bubbles into my soul,
I would be a good fountain, a good well-head,
Would blur no whisper, spoil no expression.
What is the knocking?
What is the knocking at the door in the night?
It is somebody wants to do us harm.
No, no, it is the three strange angels.
Admit them, admit them
But then what? The morning after you stumble upon the garden when the light is good and you can’t help but see that it’s not a place where a person can actually live?
My students, both the ones I gave birth to and the ones who come to me for a musical education, are used to me using sports analogies to illustrate ideas about technique and practice. We all have a good laugh about this instructional tendency of mine because I am the last person you would find doing any sort of sportsing.
By Mike Rosenthal at VectorBelly
Now that we’re several years into this homeschooling adventure, the one area in which I feel like I have wasted the most energy is trying to convince other people that our parenting choices are not negative reflections of any other parenting choices.
Homeschooling is my wheelhouse. Public and private schooling , for separate and entirely personal reasons, are not. If I wasn’t a professional musician with a strange and varied work schedule; if my son wasn’t autistic; if my financial situation were different; if if if… who knows what my wheelhouse would be.
Sarah Mackenzie‘s guest post at Simple Homeschool (excerpted from Sarah‘s book Homeschooling From Rest; A Homeschooler’s Guide to Unshakeable Peace) has inspired me to consider how I am loading my metaphorical pack as we begin our homeschooling journey this fall. The thing that weighs me down the most, that makes each step leaden instead of light, is making excuses for my wheelhouse.
I know that it will take some vigilance on my part to make sure that this habit of mine doesn’t sneak back in with each well meaning question from a stranger (or often, from a friend) but I dedicate this post to my desire to hold that precious vacated space open for what truly nourishes us on this journey.
Oh, how I love lists!
In actual fact, lists are how I maintain sanity. I don’t throw that idea around lightly and I know that I’m in good company. At least 40 million Americans and I have a problem with anxiety. There are just so many things so utterly out of our individual control. So. Many. Things.
My newest list was actually prescribed to me recently by my therapist and I think I now know precisely how Harriet felt when Dr. Wagner gave her the notebook. I had previously been operating under the impression that the lists are a crutch and that I shouldn’t need them as much as I do. My therapist disagrees with this notion. Her feeling is that the lists are a tool like any other tool and they only has as much power as I give them.
I now have this little notepad that has a little pen attached and the only thing I use it for is when a worry floats into my mind. I just jot it down, not a huge description or anything, just a note. The idea is that I don’t need to fuss over the worry right then and there. I’ve just recorded it and I don’t have to pass judgment on it, I’m just noticing it. Then I also have a designated time of the day when I read through the list.
Yes, I have a regularly scheduled time to worry. Yay?
It took a few days but I now see what an awesome brain emptying technique it is. I read through the list when I’m having my second cup of coffee and half of the time, I can just cross a worry right off the list because it’s no longer relevant in the light of day. The other half of the time, I can assign an action to it. The more I’ve done it, the more successful I’ve become at letting the thought go once I write it down because I know that I’ll cover it during my list review time.
It’s not a sparkly magic solution but it doesn’t really have to be in order to be valuable, does it?