September 2014 – BethSings

Strike

It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad.

C.S. Lewis

Character building. Strike.

The last month was lovely, spending time with family, friends…in person or via technology.Work had been rewarding and productive. Life was content and settled. There had been moments for gratitude.

The production of As You Like It went well—those young actors worked hard and were some of the most professional and dedicated people I’ve had the pleasure of working with. Strike. After the final performance everyone takes part in tearing down the set, a community they’ve built together for weeks. It’s called strike. . . so we can load-in the next play. Life in the theatre is always moving forward.

Strike.

Opening Night, driving home from the theatre….early evening….it is abridged Shakespeare after all…I was in the first significant auto accident of my life. Rear-ended by another car who was driving at a high rate of speed. Rattled. Shaken. Strike.

So very grateful…that although there were minor injuries, people walked away….grateful for the love and support of family and friends far and near. After following doctors orders to rest, it was good to be back teaching the latter part of this week…to sing….. It’s easy to take people and a mundane thing like going to work for granted.

Strike.

Kindness of strangers: the “witnesses” who stayed with me. James, the salesman at the car dealership. The reality of everything set in while in his office. He reminded me how lucky I was. He and my son had me laughing…..I like to laugh. I chucked about transforming experiences from the past. No situation in life….good, bad or indifferent is permanent. Take-away….find a solution and strike. Move forward…..

I like that egg in the C. S. Lewis story.

Strike.

An ordinary egg . . .making a choice…to either hatch or go bad….

Me….I’m choosing to hatch….

Strike! Move on……with gratitude…..

High Cotton

My family, friends and students know my fondness for sayings. Previous generations lived by them. Like the fine art of conversation, some of that has been lost.

One of my favorites: “How do you eat an elephant?

One bite at a time….”

Those words have seen me through many a predicament. Raising children. Teaching. Divorce. Death. Life. Good days and not….on life’s journey patience is necessary. Elephants are a part of the adventure, certainly temporary. . . Stay in the moment. Savor it. Or not. Either way, take it easy.

Last week was an elephant of a week. Like too many of us, my life was running me not me running my life? I had made the choices, certainly but there was little time for stars, moons, sunsets and clouds…..family or friends….

At Monday evening’s rehearsal I stepped outside for a breath of fresh air. We were rehearsing for the evening Downtown in a lovely old building….a renovated fire station. Downtown is my favorite part of Baton Rouge. It’s lovely, especially at sunset. I was hoping to catch the Harvest Moon but it was too early….too early even for sunset….but the clouds were just right…. Cotton balls in the sky….

I nibbled a bit on that elephant, remembered just how blessed I am and went about the business of living.

The week slipped away. ‘TimeHop’ jogged memories of engagements, openings, friends relocating and of course 9/11. Memories. We live in days but remember moments.

Thursday afternoon I came home from teaching and found a package from my friend Leslie waiting……a cookbook from home….centering me…..on those little bites…..and just how blessed I am….with family, friends…a good life. . .High Cotton.

Breathing. Small bites. . . That elephant can be challenging dance partner on some days. . . but thankfully I am dancing…and in high cotton and never alone.

Look around…take nibble…dance…bet you’re in high cotton too.

Coq au Vin with Julia and others

Sundays. I have always loved the rhythm of Sundays. Quiet peace. They were special growing up. I tried to make them that way for my children.

My mother cooked Sunday dinner or in summer we’d visit my grandparents. Nurturing through food. It’s part of why I like to cook. Cooking is not a chore but a creative art. The smells remind me of home. Monroe and my children. Happy memories. I process when I cook. Yes the past is a part of that but planning for the future. Relaxation especially on a rainy day like today. There was always music playing in mother’s kitchen….I follow suit.

I started cooking for myself a few years back once the kids left and enjoyed it. . . but I stopped. It seemed indulgent. It didn’t occur to me that I could still do that for myself until a few weeks ago visiting my daughter in Boston. . . so last Sunday and today….I pulled out cookbooks, music and cooked. Foods I enjoy preparing, will last the week. Rediscovering this joy has centered my life….just like photography has. And certainly saved money and calories….

Thanks Julia Child for this advice. In life and the kitchen. The only real stumbling block is fear of failure. In cooking you’ve got to have a what-the-hell attitude.

Today’s endeavor: Coq au vin. One of the first fancy dishes I ever prepared. I remember cooking it from my mother’s Julia Child cookbook. This one is from a special cookbook sent by my best friend since kindergarten. As I cook I thought about life’s relationships. Then I thought how friendships are built through theater….some are temporary, just for the run of the show…or a few shows…. some are for the long haul. Just like the ingredients in the coq au vin, these relationships are all crucial to the outcome of the dish. I’m that coq au vin….. . . how lucky and grateful I am to have so many and varied ingredients in my life… near and far…

Cooking is all about patience, creativity and staying positive! Thank heaven I’ve had that in my life….and that life still tastes really good at this age!