I tell wonder-filled stories about hope and healing
After a restless night, Phin and I are making progress. I put together a reclaimed wood entertainment center, bought a cool rug, set up my wi-fi, and got my roku TV working. Phin unpacked his toys and got his bed just the way he wants it. Little by little, it’s getting done. Now we’re going to go play with puppies.
Right now, everything feels scattered but I can see it starting to take shape. I’m looking forward to the day when this feels like home.
I’m moving to my new apartment today. As I was taping up the few remaining boxes, I felt another wave of nervous wash over me. And then theatre saved me, again, the same way it’s saved me so many times before.
I started humming the beautiful song I’ve Been Here Before from the musical, Closer Than Ever. I have been here many times before. I’ve felt these feelings. I’ve dealt with uncertainty and change in inordinate amounts. And you know what? I’m always, eventually, just fine. By some miracle, it always works out because I work. And work and work and work.
This time is no different. If anything, it’s far easier than my last move. I took one more (very) deep breath and went back to taping boxes. That’s how every move everywhere gets done: one box at a time.
“It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.” ~Frederick Douglass
I heard this quote over the weekend during a tear-jerking story by journalist Steve Hartman. This story is about a 78-year-old partially paralyzed pianist, Norman Malone, who learned to play with only his left hand after his father almost bludgeoned him and his brothers to death with a hammer. I sobbed. The light and beauty in this man is present in his voice, his eyes, and his music. Even that horrid night couldn’t take music from him. He grew up to become a choral instructor so he could share his love of music with children. After all, it saved him, so of course it can save others.
Recently, finally, he had the opportunity to give his first public performance and it was stunning. And on that stage, through that stream of tears, he couldn’t find the words to express what that performance and what music means to him. He kept it to himself. And I couldn’t help but see that somewhere in him that sweet boy who survived such brutality lives on. And shines on, 70 years later.
Frederick Douglass was absolutely right. It is so much easier to build children up than to repair adults from the trauma of life. The arts, music, dance, writing, and all creative outlets help us hang on to our very essence and give us the opportunity to share it with others. I am heart-broken by Norman’s story, and I am also immensely inspired by it. Art saves. Art heals. Art perseveres.
“A strong woman looks a challenge dead in the eye and gives it a wink.” ~Gina Carey
Challenges are all around us—at home and work, in our community, in every relationship, and even within us. It’s easy to get pulled into them and not seeing anything else. This weekend as I was in the midst of packing I read this quote by Gina Carey.
Given my schedule and move, this week will be filled with challenges so I’m going to try an experiment: every time I meet a challenge (or a challenging person), I’m going to smile wide before I say anything. In my mind, I’m going to look my challenges dead in the eye and wink. That’s my choice. Care to join me?
I started packing up my apartment this weekend to get ready for my move on Friday. I’m excited about my new home, adopting a second dog, and learning a new neighborhood as well as I know my current one.
And then a funny thing happened yesterday. I started to get nervous, really nervous. I was worried I was running out of time, supplies, and energy. So I sat down, right in the middle of my packing supplies, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. And another and another. Phineas and Otis climbed into my lap. When I opened my eyes, things looked different. I had made progress.
Moving is stressful. My job’s stressful. I’m tired. I’m worried about so many things, moving-related and otherwise. I just got overwhelmed by all of it. It’s going to be okay. I’ll get it all done. I’ll figure it out. And in the mean time, I’ll just keep breathing.
“Imagine your life 3 or 6 months from now. It looks better,” said my friend, Alex, who always knows exactly what to say when I’m having a tough day. I often call her when I’m at a loss and just don’t know what to do or how to think or feel about something.
I felt that way this week, and she repeated this advice to me again. She’s right. She’s always right. No matter what’s upsetting me, chances are I won’t even remember that it happened a few months from now. This day will likely fade into the distance as unremarkable, and what seems like such a big deal today will be completely insignificant by then.
After Alex gave me that advice, I instantly felt better. The future does look sunny. I got through my day holding my head a little higher, standing a little taller, and feeling a little lighter. I hope you do, too.
Our First Lady said it best on The Last Word with Lawrence O’Donnell on MSNBC: “No one should ever think that dance and music and theater are a luxury…because for so many of our students, they are truly necessities. They’re the reason these kids show up [to school].”
The arts give a lot of people meaning in their lives. They aren’t an extra. They aren’t a luxury. They are the reasons that many of us get out of bed in the morning. Let’s do everything we can to ensure that every child has a right to express themselves through art.
Are you with me?
Want to help Phin and I find our new furry friend? We’re looking for a small adult dog who is house trained, loves other dogs, and loves people to be Phin’s new constant companion. Ideally, this dog would have a very calming presence. Maybe you know a dog who is looking for a forever home, a dog rescue that would gladly help us, or have advice on the best way to add a new dog to a household that already has a dog. We’ll take all of the references and pieces of advice you have, so please send them our way!
I went to Cuba because of music. The biographical film of Arturo Sandoval’s life, For Love or Country, made me yearn to see Cuba, hear the music, and meet the people. And that I did.
Music is the heartbeat of Cuba. Everywhere I went, I heard it and saw people dancing, clapping, and smiling right along with it. It seems that the music lives in them, moves them, and binds them all together. Music is a way to remember the past, enjoy today, and hope for a better tomorrow. Here are some of my favorite music memories from Cuba:
I snapped this photo in Trinidad, a city in central Cuba that is a UNESCO World Heritage site. It was late at night and the only light that flowed onto the street was from his studio. He was hard at work despite the late hour, and that resonates with me. We create when and where we can, and it’s often in these quiet, solitary moments that we can most clearly channel our inspiration and get it all down so that we might share it with the world.
I love to see artists at work in their environments because the location invariably has some impact on the art. Is an artist trying to create his way out of an unfortunate situation? Is she inspired by what surrounds her as she creates? Does he create in spite of the environment or because of it? I love art for this reason: there are always more questions.
