Music – Page 2 – BethSings

Creative Waiting

For years there have been two books kept consistently on my bedside. One is my journal. The other is a copy of Joseph Campbell’s “The Power of Myth”. Bedtime. Rising. His words challenge and encourage.

Yesterday I finished a journal that I began in May 2011. The first entry was written in an airport on the way to Prague. I had no idea when I started that journey and journal the adventures that were in store.

Travel. Home. Joys. Challenges.

“Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors for you where there were only walls.” Joseph Campbell

Thumbing through this journal was enlightening. A Rosetta Stone.

That first journal entry on May 19, 2011 was from the Dublin airport. My plane had been rerouted from Helsinki on the way to Prague. I wrote: “Not exactly where I thought ‘d be. Then again, life has a way of surprising us if we’re open on the adventure. Delays turn into journeys. Sleepless nights turn into card games (I played cards all night with the people from Texas who sat next to me on the plane). So I stay in the moment. Open. Eyes open. Looking at the vision surrounding me. Bringing the past into the future. “And so I ceased, I carred my father. I sought my way to the mountains.” Homer?

That last line is from some place in The Odyssey. I remember having more than a slight buzz from no sleep, being in Ireland and knowing I was going to see my daughter for the first time nine months. The Homer was about letting go and moving forward simultaneously. That tug-of-war has been a theme these four years. Maybe longer.

This weekend was filled to the brim with activity…. My mother and my friend Leslie might call it “burning the candle at both ends”. The “candle” is a little weary by the end of April and ready for the soft flicker of summer.

Driving home tonight after supper with a friend it struck me that the bliss Joseph Campbell is talking about is really just peace in knowing yourself. Lessons learned. Talk less, listen more. Waiting. Creative waiting is following your bliss.

An Elephant’s Eye

One day I will find the right words and they will be simple.

Jack Kerouac~The Dharma Burns

Almost midnight. I’ve just returned from the theater. A preview for the musical Oklahoma that’s opening tomorrow night. Between performances of Madama Butterfly and music directing this show there have been a lot of late nights this month. Tonight the right words came to me watching this cast capture the simplicity of these characters.

Life is pretty simple. We complicate it. We create drama. Sometimes operatic….hiding behind masks.

Don’t get me wrong…music, opera, theater is glorious. But at the end of the very long day drama belongs on the stage. There’s plenty enough pathos and comedy in our lives without creating more.

Growing up Oklahoma would come on television every Thanksgiving evening. It was part of our family tradition to watch it. “Family picnic” in the living room my mother would call it. A happy memory. Watching the video monitor at tonight’s final dress rehearsal I looked down to find a text from my brother just about the time my favorite childhood scene was happening. Newlywed Laurey discusses the problems facing her with Aunt Eller. Upset, she says: “I don’t see why this had to happen when everything was so fine.” Aunt Eller’s response: “That’s alright, Laurey baby. You can’t forget, just don’t try to. Oh, lots of things happen to folks. Sickness or being poor and hungry, being old and a feared to die. That’s the way it is, cradle to grave, and you can stand it. There’s just one way: you gotta be hardy. You gotta be. You can’t deserve the sweet and tender in life unless’n you’re tough.”

Laurey’s wish is to be like Aunt Eller. When I was younger my dreams were of Laurey. The trappings. The things that fade. What did I know about hardships. Now I think Laurey had it right. Aunt Eller is a pretty wise bird.

Sure, it’s fun to play…but at the end of the long day. Or the long month it’s going to be just as nice to discover the simplicity in a nice shot with my camera again.

That message I got from brother Foley…..

Solid Ground

I have often had a retrospective vision where everything in my past life seems to fall with significance into logical sequence. ~ Ansel Adams

“When I was just a little girl
I asked my mother
What will I be
Will I be pretty
Will I be rich
Here’s what she said to me

Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future’s not ours to see
Que sera, sera
What will be, will be”

Every year at the school fair my best friend, Leslie and I would stand in line to get our fortunes read. Now, I’m not so sure if we did this because we really wanted to know our futures or because we wanted to sneak into the sixth grade class room. Looking back, it seems like the same thing now. Either way, going to that fortune teller was a HUGE deal. As big as visiting with friends at the chicken spaghetti dinner or landing on the winning number at the cake walk.

Have you ever had moments of such clarity you felt as if you had lived the moment before? Déjà vu. From crossing a street I’ve walked hundreds of times to accepting a temporary position at place I was once employed. Good news, not so good news. Life returned to normal last week. Peace covered me like a warm blanket. Lessons learned.

Carpe Diem. Be aware of each moment. Watch them sparkle.
Cherish your people: family and friends. You know who they are! Aretha got it right. R. E. S. P. E. C. T. Listen to them. That’s all a part of loving them.
Just like countries have boundaries that set limits for it’s citizens, we have lines that define who we are and who we’re not giving us the freedom to express our thoughts and feelings. Le mieux est l’ennemi du bien. Voltiere.
Keep the music playing. In other words. Keep singing, dancing, doing your thing. . . YOUR thing. Not someone else’s. Be realistic but DREAM BIG.

“Now I have children of my own
They ask their mother
What will I be
Will I be handsome
Will I be rich
I tell them tenderly

Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future’s not ours to see
Que sera, sera
What will be, will be
Que Sera, Sera”

Christmas seems ages ago. I’m glad I don’t have a fortune teller’s crystal ball, just common sense balanced with a sense of humor. “We can only promise to do our best and live out our lives.” Savoring each moment….standing on solid ground.

Style and Grace….a lament

The beginning of love is to let those we love to be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them.

Thomas Merton

Summer 2011, I took a road trip to Kentucky. The solo return from the conference in Louisville brought visits to diverse places: bourbon distilleries and the Abbey where Merton spent his last days. On that drive home I realized how lucky I was to be make choices for myself and that it was important to afford the people I love: family and friends those same choices. Quite frankly, out of concern, I haven’t always been successful in “letting loved ones be perfectly themselves”. Who has? Even in the years that have followed I’ve slipped in ‘wanting’ for friends and family. . . out of love. It’s a goal to remember that others are on their own journey, not a reflection of mine.

Over this last month, the compassionate words of Rabbi Harold Kushner’s have re-resonated. “The purpose in life is not to win. The purpose in life is to grow and to share. When you come to look back on all that you have done in life, you will get more satisfaction from the pleasure you have brought into other people’s lives.” In the mid-80’s I recall reading his book When Bad Things Happen to Good People. Simple. Straight-forward. Thirty years ago, I was a twenty-five year old deciphering the ‘whys’ of my mother’s untimely death. She was not much older than I am now.

Grow. Share. Forgive. Love. Carpe Diem.

None of us can escape sorrow. We grieve the loss and carry with us the joy. I learned that from my mother.

January 2015 will go down as a month of certain (and often uncertain) plate-spinning. We all have some creative “circus days” in life. My mother called it handling life with ‘style and grace’. She was a master at “plate-spinning” and “circus days”. The epitome of style and grace. It, like wisdom, comes with age.

I didn’t understand what she meant by “this too, shall pass”. Now, I do. With style and grace.

Measuring

Since Christmas life has been going at fever pitch. These last few days there has been quiet time to reflect…rest and relax. Not as much time with the camera as I would’ve liked but those days will return. Images of this last year flashed before me….one song stuck in my head.

Signs and symbols measure our lives. Often they speak louder than words…fill us with gratitude…grace Measuring in love……

Safe Travels…Going Home

If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough.

Meister Eckhart

I’ve spent the last few days in purposeful, planned quiet; something that has not always come easy. Sometime back I realized how much I relish balance. Maybe that’s what draws me to art, photography, music.

Life’s distractions. Turned off. Armed with camera, an open mind and a few serendipitous plans I traveled forth. The result: a brighter vision and remembering what ‘home’ is. You carry it with you like a turtle. Finding home “in the kindness of strangers” who offer you a ride to ‘the perfect shot’. Andale! Gentle Innkeepers. Friends old and new. Warm cities.
Safe travels, relaxing in my own skin, surrounded by diversity, tolerance, understanding, walking “placidly amid the noise and haste”.

Desiderta

Finding here understanding and acceptance. Safe travels. . .home.

Gracias a la vita. Serendipity. Joy. Safe travels. Home. . .traveling with thanksgiving….like a turtle….It is enough.

Art Brain-Scan at Menil — Serendipity….right place at the right time. The University of Houston is conducting a study on how the brain is effected by art. I volunteered to be a part of the experiment. Walked around the exhibition with these attached to my head while it recorded EEG. I can check up on the study, my individual part of the study via the University of Houston. VERY COOL!

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!

The One Thing

Wednesday night was filled with excitement. Bittersweet.

Goodbye summer. Hello new school year.

To relax, I went swimming Wednesday night with some girlfriends. Over the course of the summer we’ve seen Canadian geese and owls. Wednesday night there was a rainbow…..and bats. I scampered out of the pool to capture the shot but the moment was gone. Life’s like that sometimes. Special moments flash before our eyes in an instant. We think we’ll have all the time in the world to ‘roll around in them’. . .but before we know it…they’re gone. POOF! No warning.

Thursday. The first day of school. I’ve been blessed to serve…yes, SERVE…as a music and drama specialist for many years at a phenomenal school. A place that is ‘home’ for students and faculty alike. Thursday was particularly good. On those particularly good days…. there’s gratitude for my parents, family and friends.

At the end of the day, the house was quiet. It was welcome on such a busy day. I let it wash over me, thinking of the people I would’ve/could’ve called but stayed in the quiet. Not long after I sat on the sofa an UPS truck pulled up bringing with him a reminder of my forever home and family.

The ‘rules’ of life can be VERY sticky. I’ve made them that way and didn’t see the thorns.

One of my favorite teachers used to say: “Excuses are like armpits, they all stink.” Over the last few years I’ve been grateful to have the opportunity to change the rules, reacquaint with old friends. The friendships were waiting. Frozen in time, then moved forward.

Maybe I needed to get to this age to find THE ONE rule. LOVE!

With apologies to St. Paul.

Who can

separate us from love? Tribulation, distress, famine, war….death or life…things of the past, present things or things to come…..none of these things can separate us…..

The ONE THING. For this I am grateful.