adventure – BethSings

Behind the Wheel

Sometime in the last century I got my driver’s license, not because I wanted to but because that’s what teenagers do.

The Summer of 1975 I took a driver’s ed class from the head football coach with two close friends, Patsy and Diane . Every Sunday that Spring, my father would take me to the long dusty roads near the airport to practice, patiently working on my driving skills. By that summer my grandfather had a no frills, white 1963 Ford Fairlane parked in our drive-way. Nothing fancy, just a safe vehicle to get me back and forth to school and rehearsals. Everyone on Lee Avenue was ready for me to get the license…..except ME.

For most teenagers a driver’s license was a sign of freedom, a step closer to adulthood. Maybe because my mother didn’t drive. Maybe because I didn’t understand cars. Whatever the reason, as my November birthday approached I became more nervous and reluctant. My parents encouraged me to take my time with the decision. Finally after the first of the year my father took me for the driving test. I passed with flying colors.

Funny thing. Now I do enjoy driving….especially long distances. It IS freeing.

I’ve been on several long distance journeys this summer….Last week I listened to a 70’s playlist I created several years ago. On it was Fleetwood Mac’s Landslide. The first time I heard that song was around the time I had been struggling with not wanting to get a driver’s license. At the time I didn’t understand the song, at least not in the way I do today.

Driving on this last adventure, listening to the music and lyrics for the first time in a while cleared the cobwebs for some letting go. Sometimes there’s sadness in saying goodbye but this time there wasn’t. This time there was certainty in being behind the wheel with the road ahead and some good memories tucked away for safe keeping.

It’s taken over 40 years to admit it but getting that license wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

I took my love, I took it down
Climbed a mountain and I turned around
And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills
‘Til the landslide brought it down

Oh, mirror in the sky clouds

What is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above? Me and mother

Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder

Even children get older
And I’m getting older, too

Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I’m getting older, too
Oh, I’m getting older, too

Landslide

Witness

How does a moment last forever?
How can a story never die?
It is love we must hold onto
Never easy, but we try
Sometimes our happiness is captured
Somehow, a time and place stand still
Love lives on inside our hearts and always will.

Last week I woke up vividly remembering a dream. It was the kind of dream that seems real and lingers. I was 8 or 9 years old sitting in a circle, singing with other children at the community center my mother once managed. I was leading a song. My mother was there in the distance. I couldn’t see her face but felt her presence, comforting and secure. All of us in that circle were connected through the music. What was happening seemed right and important.

The dream was a memory.

Journey Window – St. Aloysius Catholic Church, Baton Rouge, La.

That recollection has been with me for the last week. I thought of it again today as I witnessed a mother’s sad farewell to her son, a seventeen year old with a sparkling personality who I had the honor to teach. A bittersweet day in a myriad ways. Countless really.

Sometimes our happiness is captured with friends and family, frozen in time with stories that will live on. We’re blessed to have them and remember them. Moments that last as long as we do…..and beyond.

For now I’m content to continue dreaming….teaching…and learning until I find ‘my corner of the sky’…..

Corner of the Sky – Pippin

004-001

Shells in the Stars

Spring has been heavy with activity. Partly my fault really. Too many good choices it was hard to say “no” that my well-intentioned “yes” kept my hands and calendar full. I’m not alone in this fatal flaw.

It reminds me of a story I heard a few years ago by motivational speaker Rob Bell. His son is playing on the beach when a large, beautiful starfish comes floating by. The little boy looks up and wants to grab it. Rob yells over, “Go get it buddy” but his son yells back “I can’t.” Rob says, “Sure you can, just run into the water and grab it.” His son replies with emotion and frustration, “But Dad… I CAN’T.” Rob says, “Why not?” and his son says, “My hands are full of tiny shells.”

He had been picking up all these little shells. His hands were so full that when the big starfish came (opportunity) he couldn’t reach out and grab it because he was too afraid to let go of the shells already in his hands.

The giant starfish was right there… right in his reach but he just couldn’t let go in order to get it. Sound familiar?

We live in a society that has such a hard time letting go…. a world that teaches us that busy is not just better, it’s the only thing….when less IS so much MORE.

What is the quieter, better ‘yes’ that frees us from ourselves……

of being ‘too busy’ to do what matters most.

of toxic relationships. You deserve to spend time with uplifting and supportive people who truly care about you. Find your tribe.

of letting your past define your future.

Drop a few of the shells. . .

……then go after the starfish. . .

Nimrod from Enigma Variaions by Edward Elgar

Leap

Something has changed within me
Something is not the same
I’m through with playing by the rules
Of someone else’s game
Too late for second-guessing
Too late to go back to sleep
It’s time to trust my instincts
Close my eyes and leap!

Ana Gasteyer – “Defying Gravity”

Full disclosure. I’ve never been a big fan of the musical Wicked. I read Gregory Maguire’s best seller in the mid-90’s and was probably one of the few people who found it, well, in a word…tedious. He does get points for marketing “chops”. Capitalizing on The Wizard of Oz was a stroke of genius right up there with Disney but Dorothy’s journey down the yellow-brick road is sacred as far as I’m concerned. Who messes with Baum and Judy Garland?

Friday night my friend Beth and I saw Ana Gasteyer’s cabaret show—great friends and music. She and I reminisced about taking my daughter to Houston several years ago to see the show…and many other GNO’s over the span of our wicked friendship. A lovely, serendipitous evening!

Another disclosure. My New Year’s resolution seemed to drift into February. Good news: I haven’t had a Diet Coke since January 1, bumping the water intake significantly. However, at the end of January when the health screening came around I got news that my blood pressure was not just high but off the chart. Reality check into making better choices and living a healthier life.

Great, I thought, another sign of middle age, that is, if I plan on living to 112. Not bloody likely! Truth be told, in the last year I had let diet and exercise slip with the exception of weekly yoga practice and the occasional salad at lunch. Ash Wednesday was set as the 40 days to a Healthier Life start date, embracing Lent as a time of joy, a new spring. Eating at home – which shouldn’t really be a choice – I enjoy cooking. I’ve carved out more quiet time reading, photography and yes, exercise—yoga and getting back to walking/running again. The result at 20 days and the halfway point— I’m already down almost 10 pounds, several inches and my blood pressure is improving. More importantly I feel better. Ironically, I was too busy taking care of “things” to recognize I felt bad, mostly things out of my control. I’ve practiced not complaining and letting go of things out of my control; when in doubt I go to my yoga mat or put on some music.

I’m through accepting limits
’cause someone says they’re so
Some things I cannot change
But till I try, I’ll never know!
Too long I’ve been afraid of
Losing love I guess I’ve lost
Well, if that’s love
It comes at much too high a cost!

Richard Rohr wrote recently that “pain teaches a most counterintuitive thing: we must go down before we even know what up is. Suffering of some sort seems to be the only thing strong enough to both destabilize and reveal our arrogance, our separateness, and our lack of compassion.” He defines suffering as whenever you are not in control. Through the sufferings, great or small, we learn to trust ourselves and others….or we don’t. The experiences can be transformative, almost without realizing it. They show us what to do with our pain, with the absurd, the tragic, the nonsensical, the unjust. “If we do not transform our pain, we will most assuredly transmit it.” .

So if you care to find me
Look to the western sky!
As someone told me lately:
Ev’ryone deserves the chance to fly!
And if I’m flying solo
At least I’m flying free
To those who’d ground me
Take a message back from me

The take-away in Wicked-The Musical is forgiveness…of self and others and as Richard Rohr says: always building something new, good, and forever original, while neither playing the victim nor making victims of others.

Flying Free…….who needs monkeys to do that? Like Dorothy, I love a good adventure.

Take Flight

Discovering a healthy balance of solitude and community in a world that’s sometimes filled with distractions. I never thought I’d write those words let alone think them.

I wrote those words two weeks ago, preparing to write after nearly a month’s hiatus from the blog. Partly seeking that healthy balance, I suppose, the other part living. Keeping the quiet actually quiet….and not filled with another activity. Photography and writing are not activities.

In the last two weeks I picked up my camera and found that rhythm in the shutter. With the help of a valued and experienced teacher new light was shed on where to look. Finding light. Vision.

Very early this morning I explored….with one word burned in my mind…community. Like all of us I wear many hats: daughter, sister, friend, mother, musician, director. I’ve spent my life building community. Short-term. Long-term.

Maybe it’s the goings-on in the world this weekend in Paris, how the world has been joined together but this question, “what is community” has been on my mind. The thought “who is my neighbor” isn’t a new one to me. Geography has nothing to do with it.

Performing artists create community very quickly. Granted, like lots of families some function better than others. We do our best showing support, each in their own way. Friendships. Families. Workplace. Building communities of encouragement, loyalty with honesty, integrity, love and the freedom to express—individually and corporately. It’s when those freedoms are absent we feel stifled, less creative, less ourselves. As individuals. The community suffers.

So back to that early morning adventure. Some people have a skewed definition of community. . . my way or the highway. No freedom. It was with that thought that I drove to a local lake before 6am this morning.

For photos. For perspective. For peace.

I found COMMUNITY defined as “with UNITY.” It struck me that the community is stronger when each individual is stronger and more centered, joining with unity.

So on this day, hug your friends and family where ever they may be. Smile at your neighbors who ever they are. Create good will in yourself and in others.

Celebrate diversity….the spark found in yourself and in others.

Join together.

Then take flight.

Plenty Left

A family joke… When my typically loquacious grandfather hit his 54th birthday he became quiet and reflective. It was the age his father had died. Papa waited a year for something to happen. A heart attack. Bad news from the doctor. None came. At 55 he moved on. This all happened several years before I was born but I remembered the story. The waiting and the moving on. It must be something about the age 55.

The quiet drive back to Baton Rouge after helping my daughter move a few weeks ago cleared my head. I’ve always been of the opinion that music and the arts have value, what we do matters, what I do matters. It’s the life I would lead even if I weren’t paid for it. Thankfully, I have been able to make a living while supporting my family.

A full, fun life! This month alone…. Working on a production of The Taming of the Shrew. Working as a substitute liturgy coordinator while a colleague was recuperating from surgery. Working teaching, directing. Work.

On the drive back from Austin I reflected not just about the rigor of work but the opus – the body. The people and the beauty of creation. Loving and honest family and friends. Blessings all. So much to be grateful for! Not that there hasn’t been struggle. Those struggles help us appreciate the good times and know who the real people are. They help us find the stuff we’re made of….Yvonne Nash called it “character building”.

One year ago, driving from the theater, I was hit from behind by a car going at a high rate of speed. I had never been in a serious car accident before. It totaled my car. A few feet more, personal injury would have been much more serious than a concussion and back pain. The what if haunted me longer than I cared to admit….I avoided talking about the accident.

Then I remembered my grandfather’s story…..and that I was his granddaughter.

What’s the take away……

The first half of life is about building a strong container; the second half is about discovering the contents the container was meant to hold. Yet far too often, solidifying one’s personal container becomes a substitute for finding the contents themselves! Richard Rohr

My grandfather lived 94 years discovering both the container and contents. He, along with my parents and grandparents, taught me to build a fine container. There’s PLENTY left to fill.

Cheers!

Just Singing

Teaching, like all professions has it’s challenges.

While friends were planning last minute trips to the beach three weeks ago we began the journey into this new school year; my thirty-third. What joy, unwrapping the gift of music (and now theater) with young people. A year of new possibilities.

But teaching, like life has had it’s ups and downs.

Sunday night blues. Monday Morning mayhem. TGIFs. Days. Weeks. Months. Years of inquisitive faces. A blessed life.

A poem by Mary Oliver reminded me of those bittersweet early teaching days and the not-so-distant-crazy-hormonal-menopausal early 50’s. They had a lot in common.

With the support of trusted friends and colleagues “I took my old body and went into the morning….and SANG.”

Here’s to continuing to find that still place..not looking back or forward….just singing.

So Long Summer

Summer 2015 is quickly coming to an end. It’s been a lovely, eclectic time. A few weeks each year filled with spontaneity, reflection, productivity and just plain being lazy on some days. Dare I admit it, summer is fun even without my kids.

http://www.puckermob.com/lifestyle/11-things-sentimental-girls-want-you-to-know

Being sentimental doesn’t make us pushovers or weak. Reflective. Future thinking. Grounded in kindness.

These summer days brought me to a deeper understanding of connecting the past to the present.

Next week school starts. Thirty plus years teaching music, private voice and now theater has taught me that maintaining connections are important. This art is a new addition to my classroom this Fall.

Each one of us is on a journey with

a unique story.

A new school year is always a time of re-commitment and discernment. New journeys and stories to share.

On the Road - Dallas — On the Road – Dallas

Looking for signs along the way.

Chicago and EWF - July 2015 — Chicago and EWF – July 2015

Companions to sweeten the journey.

Time for quiet and gratitude.

I recently read that energy and wisdom need each other. That idea is what still draws me to teaching: youth and it’s energy encountering whatever wisdom I may have. I certainly don’t have all of the answers but life experience and “journey”. If we listen to one another we both learn. A collaborative experience.

Here’s to summer’s refreshment and here’s to the new school year in whatever you do.

Do You Know?

America has only three cities: New York, San Francisco and New Orleans.

Everywhere else is Cleveland.

Tennessee Williams

Kindest regards to all “Clevelands”. New Orleans is a good hours drive from my door. I fondly call it an ‘adult playland.’. Food. Fun. Frolic. As the tenth anniversary of Hurricane Katrina approaches New Orleans has been calling. In the heat of the summer some friends and I took the day to explore. Some places were old ‘haunts’, some were new adventures, some we left for future discovery.

Reflective……..

Walking into vintage shops and stopping at her tables under shady trees is like seeing an old friend. “Pieces of eternity.”

“Don’t you just love those long rainy afternoons in New Orleans when an hour isn’t just an hour – but a little piece of eternity dropped into your hands – and who knows what to do with it?” Tennessee Williams

New Orleans….resilient and a sense of humor….

Our final stop was at a fine New Orleans restaurant, an institution that surprisingly none of us had eaten before. Exceptional food and service. At one point someone asked what we were celebrating…This morning I know….New Orleans…..

The “Always”

Friendship is such a holy gift but we give so little attention. It is so easy to let what needs to be done take priority over what needs to be lived.

Henri Nouwen~The Road to Daybreak

There has been unrest these last weeks. I found myself quiet, not because I had no opinion but because my voice in the fray seemed inconsequential. The people who truly know me also know my mind and heart on such matters of the world. Others, as my grandfather always said, don’t matter. “We can’t change their hard heads or harder hearts. We will never all agree, Baby Doll. Don’t expect them….accept them….”

Last week I was out-of-town: business, recreational, adventure. After a meeting I fell asleep with the television on for several hours. A hard sleep, June was a long busy month; I was much more weary than I cared to admit. I woke up to a familiar voice. In another life these words from Olivia Walton would’ve produced an eye-roll “….what I don’t like is the always… ” I understood she had built her life and the life of her family on tradition….but was willing to embrace change. In fact, she was restless for it, unafraid of it.

We become smug, dancing in the shadows of complacency, thinking our way is the only way.

We expect others….friends, family to believe as we do…the always….

On the drive home I made a short stop at the Beaumont, Texas Visitors Center which also houses the Babe Didrikson Zaharias Museum. For years I’ve wanted to stop, check it out but never took the time. Her life has always fascinated me. She along with Amelia Earhart, Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Eleanor Roosevelt, Katharine Hepburn and countless others who explored the world in a time when it wasn’t fashionable for women to take those risks. My mother was a risk-taker, working and volunteering for the civil rights movement in the 1960s. Visiting Mrs. Zaharias’ museum reminded me of the sacrifice that we all make for a life well lived….. On the walls and in the case hung the expected sports memorabilia from high school to the Olympics but also place settings of china and displays of her favorite recipes. Not content with “the always”, after her track and field career ended she became a world-class golfer. She learned to live in the world. Certainly in those days, one could apply all sorts of labels….but she was a woman of many talents and was successful doing what she loved. She didn’t let the world define her. She defined her world. Always.

When I took the shot of her golf portrait the museum docent was telling me that “Babe” was an expert knitter. The story was so good I didn’t check the shot.

Like Olivia Walton, Babe’s always was the unexpected. Looking for the end of the rainbow. Some people want to complicate or agitate…..Me? I’m grateful for the lesson….always…..looking for the rainbow