The Strangest of Days

It was March 13, 2020, 3:00 P.M.

It appeared to be just like any other dreary March afternoon. I wished my last hour class a good weekend and gathered my things for home and what I hoped would be a quiet weekend. While I could not have predicted how rapidly and drastically things would change I had been struggling with a growing sense of unease. It was only a few days prior that the governor of Wisconsin, a neighboring state, had dismissed schools in an effort to control the spread of the Coronavirus. It didn’t take a genius to see what was in store for Minnesota. Still, I had no idea that this would be quite possibly the last time I would see my students. I never got to say goodbye.

That Sunday Governor Waltz announced that students would not be returning to school after Tuesday. The school district I work for took a very serious approach in keeping their students and employees safe in not opting to hold business as usual. Students were allowed come gather things from their lockers and desks. Staff was not required to report on Monday, but there was to be an all-district staff meeting on Tuesday morning in the auditorium where we could all sit far away from one another.

I opted to go in on Monday to gather things I thought I might need over the next weeks. I tried to grapple with how I was going to teach art ala Distance Learning style with students who may not have any art supplies at home. Walking into school that morning was surreal. The building was dark, eerily hushed. My co-workers, stuck to their rooms for the most part, gathering and dropping completed projects, folders, and student textbooks in the commons for students to pick up. We warily passed each other in the halls, sharing small, unsure greetings. The students who came were being told to clean out their lockers as if it were summer break. In hearing this, my heart broke as I cleared off my desk and completed grading whatever had been handed in. There were so many unfinished projects that would never be completed. The unease I felt earlier grew.

Over the next two weeks, I tried to come up with a feasible, flexible plan for Distance Learning. I’m not going to sweeten things. I absolutely hate it. I am doing everything I can for my students. It’s taken everything that I love about teaching; the personal connections with students, witnessing the a-ha moments, the flexibility to change a lesson that’s not working and has replaced what I love with endless hours of email correspondence, phone calls, video conferencing, grading and attendance. My body aches from sitting too much. My eyes are bugging out from being on the computer hours on end. When I’m not working on my work, which can often last until 10 at night, I’m guiding my daughter through her own Distance Learning. I am grateful to be employed but it is taking its toll on me.

Meanwhile, the world began the process of cancelling everything. Baseball’s Opening Day; postponed. The National Art Educators Association convention I was looking forward to; cancelled. The Laura Marling concert I had bought tickets for; postponed, then cancelled. My daughter’s 11th birthday party postponed for the foreseeable future. (I feel bad, last year after my Dad passed away I couldn’t get it together to get one organized for her. Now this year. Props to the kid though, she’s handled it with grace and maturity).

The news is grim. I don’t need to tell anyone that. Listening to the multiple daily news briefings leaves me angry, scared and sad. I feel myself clenching my jaw. My head hurts. There is a heaviness on my shoulders I’ve not felt before and I’ve had some pretty dark thoughts I dare not give voice to. (Nothing involving self-harm. I’m OK). Optimistically, I believe mankind will make it through this, but I worry about myself as a person who is considered high-risk. I don’t want to get sick. I don’t want to die and I want to keep my family safe. I’m pretty sure the same thoughts run through other’s minds. I am not complacent when it comes to social distancing and protecting myself and my family. The stress does get to me.

I try to do things that I enjoy and offer some sort of escapism. I go for walks, listening to music. I attempt my art. I have looked back through my journals again, looked through old photographs. Still, I’ve struggled with the stress and the fear.

A couple of weeks before some of my old Spine crew decided to meet up for the CD release party for the new Caroline’s Spine album. It was the best weekend I’ve had in such a long time and something I really needed. I got to see a couple of friends I hadn’t seen in several years. It was so good catching up. Laughing over old memories and creating new ones. I came away from that weekend feeling the most refreshed I had felt in ages. The show was good too. We always said that the shows were just an added bonus. The best part though was Jim ending the show with Rainbow Connection. A few tears were shed. When I try to explain to people what this song means to me I always find my explanation lacking, much like when I try to explain what those years were like and what magic they were. I guess you had to be there.

A few weeks later amidst all that was happening in the world, a friend shared the audio from one of the songs from the show. I asked if he had Rainbow Connection from that night. He did and shared it. The recording included Jim’s introduction. The message was meaningful and moving that night weeks ago, but it took on a whole different meaning after the stress and fear from the past weeks.

“So you’re gonna wake up…we’re all going to wake up tomorrow, right? It’s going to be Sunday. And all of our lives are a lot different than they used to be, right? But it’s still good to get together. So on Monday morning, I want you to think back to this moment, ok?”

So I did and for a little while, I felt the weight fall off my shoulders and that everything will be ok.

For me Rainbow Connection is a song of hope, dreaming of a better future. Maybe, just maybe, we could have that.

Attention Please 20th Anniversary

A couple weeks ago while messing around on Facebook I ran across a post from an acquaintance that announced that day was the 20th anniversary of the release of Attention Please, the 2nd major label release from Caroline’s Spine.

My first thoughts were those of disbelief and denial as there was no way I was that old. At the time of the Attention Please‘s release I had already lost count of the number of Spine shows I’d been too. I had pretty much memorized all of the stage banter and I was firmly entrenched in the Wisconsin branch of the “Spine Family”.

This was the era when cell phones were newish, digital cameras did not exist and social media was in its infancy with online bulletin boards and AIM (America Online Instant Messenger). No Twitter, no Facebook and MySpace wasn’t even a thing. There was a Spine Board were my friend Cathy and I got to know other people and our core Spine family expanded. We planned to meet up at shows and discovered we had a lot more in common than just liking the same band. We handed out fliers, hung posters and we were active in the street team. There were sound checks, late night shenanigans and much hanging out during the downtime. Lots and lots of hotel rooms and many, many miles on the road. Sleep was a luxury. Copious amounts of caffeine required.

Many of us became friends beyond “the band”. We’d plan get togethers and each other’s homes and we’d go see other bands when Spine was not around. Today, I’m still good friends with many of those I met 20 years ago. We’ve been there for each other during hard times, even if because of distance, its just a comforting word or two. I know with certainty when the 30th, even the 40th anniversary rolls around we will all still be friends, rocking out to Spine, just with more wrinkles and walkers.

Caroline’s Spine will always hold a place in my heart. I know it might sound trite when I say I love them, but it true. Those years were…good.

Song/Rant of the Week?

I am weary.

Was it only last week that there were three mass shootings within a few short days of one another?

A grown man attacking a child, cracking his skull, because he didn’t remove his hat during the national anthem. Assaulting a child, over a song?

ICE raids. Children coming home to empty houses on the first day of school. Parents just gone.

And that’s just headlines. Can’t forget about the continual investigations into possibly the most corrupt administrations in the history of this country, at least in my lifetime. And that’s saying a lot. The constant gutting of acts and laws that protect our environment other species that share our planet. Police brutality. Being Black or Trans or anything but a straight white male in America. The sickening news of abused children. Jeffery Epstien.

The incessant fighting over social media. No one’s willing to listen to each other. “It’s my right to own guns!”. Yes, it is, but what’s so wrong about some protections for me? The kids at my school? I don’t even know what it’s like to feel safe at my place of employment. Everytime I go to a public place I immediately scan for places to hide, to escape should I need to. Everytime I sit down to eat at a public restaurant I face the door so I can see whose coming. This weekend I went to an outdoor festival to see one of my favorite musicians and I spent more time looking for possible threats than enjoying the music. For nearly 25 years I’ve done this. Before Columbine. When some angry, troubled young man charged into the high school of the district I was then working in, with a list and his guns.

“We should help out our own citizens (or veterans, senior citizens, the words are interchangeable) before immigrants!” Ok, “Healthcare for all? ” “No! People should help themselves!” is the common retort. I don’t even know what to say anymore. No one seems to be listening. During the 2016 election I lost/was blocked by a longtime friend because I once said that though I liked the overall philosophy of the presidential candidate she loved, that he was still a politician just like the others and couldn’t really trust him. Since then I’ve pretty much kept my opinions to myself, and especially off of the social media where I socialize with friends and family. I don’t know if this is the right thing to do. I don’t want to get in fights with anyone, but…how can we expect positive change if we all can’t discuss our differences calmly and civilly?

So tired of all this bull. I’m not an overly religious person. In fact I’m a pretty poor excuse of a Catholic. But I have read the Bible. Cover to cover and more than once. Much of it is…crap, in that it is rules for people who lived a long time ago in a different world that they really didn’t understand. I got to say that there are some wonderful things to be taken from the Bible hat were not only good then, but today and quite possibly for all times. Matthew 7:12 is commonly known as The Golden Rule; Do onto others as you would have them do onto you. Be good to each other. (And if you look into all of the other major religions, they too have a similar rules). If only we could just follow this one simple rule, this one universal truth…

I’ll leave you with my song of the week. It came up on my randomized playlist while I was out walking the other day. It’s an older song (it came out during the years when George W. Bush our president), it’s still fitting and perhaps even more relevant today. Phil Marshall is a lovely man and and exceptional artist, not musician, artist. I saw him many years ago as an opening act and he quickly became one of my favorites. I probably have 90 different versions of this song, Energy, but this stripped down acoustic YouTube version might be one of my favorites.

Be good to each other people.

Fear and Bliss

This week I attended a workshop in preparation for the upcoming school year. What I picked up from the break-out sessions will be useful in my classroom this Fall and the two keynote speakers where entertaining and inspirational. The first keynote speaker played this clip about Will Smith speaking about fear and his experience about skydiving that struck a personal note with me.

The above clip is entertaining and worth watching in its entirety, but it is what he said in the following quote that I feel is the real message.

You realize that the point of maximum danger is the point of minimum fear…The lesson for me is why were you scared in your bed the night before? What do you need that fear for? Just don’t go. Why are you scared in your bed 16 hours before you jump? Why are you scared in the car? Why could you not enjoy breakfast?…Fear of what? You’re no where near the airplane. Everything up to the stepping out there’s actually no reason to be scared. It only just ruins your day. You don’t have to jump. And then in that moment when you should be terrified is the most blissful experience of your life and God placed the best things in life on the other side of terror. On the other side of your maximum fear are all of the best things in life.
Will Smith on Fear

I like the majority of people have fears. I used to be terrified of thunder and lightening as a kid. I’d cry and hide. Today I have better control over this fear in that I don’t cry and I only go hide if it’s threatening weather, like a tornado. I can recognize that there is some beauty in a thunderstorm even if a really loud boom still sets my heart racing. I also hate pigs, like I’m terrified of them. There are people who are arachnophobic, afraid of spiders. Me, total swinophobic. Confronted with a pig and I have a full on anxiety attack, yet I recognize that this is such a strange and silly fear (and admiringly very funny). Pigs can be mean but the odds of a pig really doing any harm to me is exceptionally slim. This fear, I’m willing to let be. I don’t live on a farm and the only time I could encounter a pig is at the county fair once a year.

I used to think I was shy, and maybe I was, but in reality my shyness was born out of fear. I was afraid of what other people might think of me or say about me. Given some of my social experiences in school early on one can kind of understand how that fear evolved. I didn’t take risks when it came to personal relationships. I was too afraid of being hurt or being laughed at. Unlike my fear of pigs though, this is not something I could ignore.

It has taken me an awful long time in life to let go of that fear and not let it rule my life. Will Smith is correct when he said that on the other side of your fear there are all these great things. I have made some deep, everlasting friendships. The bliss that I found by confronting this fear has been, as Will Smith said, one of the greatest things in my life. Humor, laughter. I discovered that I can make people laugh. I have this picture of some of my college buddies that I took. They were crowded on the couch in my friend Nate’s room. Their faces are pure joy, heads thrown back, each of them caught up in their biggest laugh. Pure joy. As I had clicked the button on the camera I had said something, some joke, that they apparently found most amusing. I no longer remember what the joke was, but I remember that feeling that I got from making my friends laugh. No longer do I hide my humor. In my classroom we laugh a lot. Students love being in my classroom because its a fun (and safe place). They leave it not only having learned something about art but also happy.

Taking risks and facing my fear boys and dating and THOSE kind of relationships took a lot longer. I have regrets in that I almost always seemed to let the fear win. I was scared of rejection. Could I have jumped to the other side of fear and found my greatest bliss (or at least the truth)? Yes, but I didn’t. I was terrified the whole time. I’ve dated but nothing was ever really serious. I never took the risk with anyone until my husband. I took a humongous leap of faith in becoming involved with him. Things are hardly perfect and we’ve struggled but there have been great rewards, great bliss in letting go and facing my fear.

So, from this point on, I am going to face my fears (except pigs) and make that jump. There are great rewards on the other side. I encourage everyone else to do the same.

Waxing Nostalgic

Tonight is my High School 30 year reunion and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it. The 80’s was a great decade in all its weirdness. Neon clothes, pegged jeans, Hair Metal and Depeche Mode and big, big hair. The Breakfast Club really wasn’t too far off the mark in depicting high school life of the 80s.

I moved to town in the middle of 9th grade. The city I came from had 4 large high schools. I certainly didn’t know everyone in my class nor did everyone know me. This served me well. I was a somewhat awkward and painfully shy, except around my group of friends. I existed in the background, the observer, and was mostly left alone. My new school was not going to be the same. It was far smaller than I was used to, my new class being around 200 students.

Very few of my new classmates were welcoming. In fact I it wasn’t long before I became a target for bullying. There is one particular incident that I struggle to forget. It was everyone’s favorite class Phy Ed. (Can you hear my eye roll?) We were headed back to the locker room to change from our gym clothes after class when three “popular” girls ran ahead of me. They were laughing, tauntingly at me. They entered the locker room, slammed the door and locked it. I don’t quite remember how I got into the locker room, only that it took everything in my power not to cry in front of those assholes. This kind of bullying lessened as time went on. Nonetheless the damage was done.

Not everything was that terrible. I did make some good life-long friends and we made great memories of our own. I found success in my art. I even sometimes found my voice. I remember the time my best friend and I stayed after school to work. The guy who was my HUGE crush and one of his friends were also there painting. There was some discussion about music and how girls only like “crappy” music like Bon Jovi and don’t like good music, like Metallica or Led Zepplin. “They say they like them, but they don’t have any of their tapes.” Mostly this was coming from my crush’s friend and I remember being so offended that I piped up and let him have it and ended my point with the fact I did indeed have all of Led Zepplin’s tapes and I also had some of Metallica’s as I walked out the door. (And yes, I also had all of Bon Jovi, but I didn’t tell them that).

After graduation my family moved across the state and I went with them. Life after high school was a great improvement and I really haven’t looked back. I have kept in contact with those I wanted to. I am not friends on Facebook with everyone from my class. There are about 3 people from my class that I would welcome seeing in person. I might have 4 more people that I graduated with that were nice to me in some respect that I don’t mind keeping up with, but the rest, I really have little interest in letting them know what I’ve been up too.

However, I am a curious person. Ok, I’m downright snoopy. I did join the class reunion page on Facebook and the pictures of the reunion are being posted at a steady pace. I recognize some of the people but many I don’t. There has been talk about everyone did during their Senior Skip day. I couldn’t help but laugh as mine involved two of my friends, a broken down car, hitching a ride with a trucker and spending the day at a truck weigh station singing Guns n’ Roses. Definably not an ideal time but it was unique and we did have what fun we could. Plus, its always a bonus to hitch a ride with a trucker who wasn’t an axe murderer.

I have no regrets in not going to my reunion and I don’t feel like I’m missing out. I do miss the simplicity of being that age where the biggest worry was being in the same classes as your friends. The people in the shared pictures tonight look happy and I do hope that they are having a good time. It’s just not the reunion for me. Maybe if there were such a thing as a college reunion. That I might be up for. Bring on the 90s nostalgia with its Grunge music and Friends reruns.

An Update of Sorts

“The past is done. The future is uncertain. All you’ve got is this one moment, right now.” – Dirty Like Zane Jaine Diamond

The quote above is from a Romance series that I discovered this past year by Jaine Diamond. Please don’t laugh too much. This quote is from one character speaking to another about addiction and finding sobriety, and while that’s not what this blog is about the quote still fits. I’ve been an avid reader the majority of my life, my favorite genres being Sci Fi/Fantasy and Historical Fiction, and I’m not referring to historical romance novels here. I’ve read my fair share of non-fiction and I do delve into classic literature that isn’t assigned to me to read by a college professor. The reasoning is because I needed to know things. Yeah, I was that girl who read Shakespeare’s The Tempest and The Holy Bible all because I wanted to. I’m a great big dorky nerd.

That’s not to say I didn’t partake in my own fair share of trashy Romance novels, or smut books as I like to refer to them, back in my youth. I was a big fan of the historical romance novels by Johanna Lindsey that always featured hyper-chiseled Fabio on the cover. I’m not going to lie and say that I read those books for more more than the sexy bits (or so I thought). They were predictable: Extremely beautiful innocent girl meets over-the-top handsome dude in some impossible situation, like being sold into his brother’s harem or being kidnapped by pirates. At first they hate each other, innocent girl loosed virginity to handsome dude and eventually fall happily-forever in love and live perfectly ever after. The End.

Sometime this past winter I accidentally fell back into reading smut. I had a hard time focusing on the current Fantasy series I was reading. I am not blaming the book, because it was well written and a great story but with everything going on around me in my real life I needed something that didn’t take much effort. Amazon has this great thing for their Kindle called Kindled Unlimited, where basically for a very small monthly fee you have access to more books than you can ever read in 20 lifetimes. One day I stumbled upon The Boy I Hate by Taylor Sullivan, which was basically what I know now as a second chance/best-friend’s brother/roadtrip romance with a HEA (that’s Happily Ever After). I thought, “What the hell?” downloaded it, opened it and got sucked into the tale of an awkward, not very self-assured heroine and a (seemingly) moody asshole hero who hated each other over a misunderstanding that happened way back in their youth. Much hilarity, more misunderstandings, steamy sex and heartache ensued before the two worked their heads out of their arses and found their HEA. Entirely predictable. Entirely certain and entirely what I needed at a time when in real life my Dad was dying from a terribly ugly disease and my husband’s depression/maybe borderline personality disorder was again in full bloom. My life was anything but happy and predictable. So I kept on reading those Romance novels to find the balance I was lacking.

(Side-note: Romance novels today are very different from those I read in my youth. There are so many sub-genres, some that intrigue me and others not so much. The heroes and heroines have faults, traumas and surprisingly there is not always HEA ending in sight. Not every book has a Fabio and super-beautiful innocent maiden anymore. I’m quite fond of the ones that usually involve some darker issue(s) but still have a HEA have a humorous streak about them, like the Cake novels by J. Bengtsson or the Dirty series by Jaine Diamond).

My life still is still full of uncertainty and it can be uncomfortable. But that’s life, isn’t it? Some seriously sorry stuff has happened over the course of this year; my Dad’s death and funeral, his younger brother’s death a mere 3 months later and the passing of two people who for a time where my surrogate parents. There’s been stress involving work and the ever present stress of my husband’s disease and what, if anything, he’s willing to do about it. I care deeply for my husband, but I’m not going to lie, this is very hard on a relationship, on me and the future is full of uncertainty.

I have made a concentrated and completely conscious effort this spring/summer to not let all the sadness consume me. I cannot let it. I went in search of finding some “joy”, sometimes by myself or with my daughter in-tow. I rediscovered my art, or rather dusted-off because I don’t think I ever really lost it. I brought music back into my life. I’ve made reconnections with old friends who I missed way more than I realized. Walking through my old college campus with two important people from that time was gloriously sentimental. Going to see my best friend from High School was the best medicine I could have asked for. We could still talk and confide in one other like we only seen each other yesterday, instead of over a decade. With other friends, forgiveness was given and received, which just might be the greatest feeling of all. I have great co-workers that make me laugh and value my quirky humor. The trip out East to see my beloved niece graduate and time spent with my family just…being, was greatly needed.

My life isn’t predictable, it never was nor likely will it ever be. Nothing is ever certain, but oh, there is happiness to be found. I didn’t end up with a HEA like they do in the romance novels and that’s okay. I had a stinking awesome youth and quite frankly a fun time trying to navigate through my 20’s and 30’s, even if I didn’t always seize every opportunity I coulda/woulda/shoulda. I can’t change any of it anyway. Predicting the future is something I cannot do, it’s uncertain, instead I’m going to do what I can today. Focus on the now.

I’m still going to read trashy romance novels however.

Question of the Day

**Note I am currently without my laptop so I am writing this on my iPad. It’s not ideal, and really weird to type on, not to mention the formatting is not user friendly.**

It may come as not surprise but I have a weak spot for journals. It’s quite dangerous for me to go into that section at Barnes and Noble because guaranteed I will find some pretty little book with a dragon or fairy on it begging for me to buy it, take it home and deface it’s pages with my chicken scratch. Then there are the journaling books that offer inspiration or suggestions on what to write. Last spring I came upon on of those entities One Question a Day. The journal poses one question per day for a year. When you finish the year, you repeat the process, same questions, for 5 years. I suppose its to see how your answers change over time. The answers are to be short and sweet. Some questions are silly and others a bit more serious. I thought it might be kind of interesting to choose 10 questions randomly and answer them here.

What colors do you wear most often?

Being that blue is my favorite color I tend to lean towards blue clothing. Shocker. I also tend to pick up a lot of green as well.

What is your biggest fear?

I have a couple phobias but generally I can work my way around those, except pigs. They give me the creeps. As for my biggest fear is something awful happening to my daughter. An accident where she gets hurt or even worse, someone harming her. Everything else I can conquer, even nasty pigs, but harm befalling my daughter scares me.

When was the last time you cried?

Yesterday. I was driving home listening to music on shuffle and Blue October’s For My Brother, from their live album Argue With a Tree came on. Like every other time I’ve listened to the song I was wiping away the tears. I think it’s one of the most achingly beautiful songs I have ever heard. I wish I could find words to explain this song, but everything I come up with is woefully inadequate. I’ll include the YouTube link. Please give it a listen to the end and you’ll understand.

https://youtu.be/RC0tIrHjTIM

What do you wish you could tell your younger self?

There is probably lots of advice I could give my younger self. Mostly, I think I’d want to tell myself back then, to stop being afraid of what others think and take some chances. I wonder if I could just take the attitude, knowledge and experience that 48 year old me has and put it in 23 year old me what that would have been like.

What is one item on your bucket list?

There are still many things I want to see which require some travel. But experience wise? This is tough for me. I really can’t say I want to do anything daring like, sky-dive or drive a race car. I just have no desire for that kind of stuff. I might have to put some thought into this later.

What issue do you tend to rant about?

The general stupidity of humans. This can be anything from politics or terrible drivers.

What is your usual breakfast?

Hot tea, green or black varieties are my preference. Scrambled eggs and fruit, or out meal if I’m feeling not very energetic. I’m not a morning person but I do need my breakfast to be a decent human being.

Who are you surprised is still your friend?

I have many good friends and I’m blessed to have several “best” friends that have been with me for decades. I’m very lucky and I’m also quite surprised that we are still friends. No, its not that I think I’m some unlikable person but I’ve moved around a lot and its quite hard to maintain relationships long distance. There have been times, before social media and texting, where I haven’t heard from one of my friends for a very long time. Writing is hard. Phoning for a phone-a-phobic like me, and some of my best friends, is downright scary. I have discovered this weekend and the last few weeks of visiting with old friends that you pick that relationship right back up where it left off.

What is the oldest thing in your home?

I think it would be the portraits of my 3x Great-Grandparents Caroline and Heinrich Biebeshimer. They came to the United States from Germany, settled in New York for sometime before moving to Iowa. Heinrich was brewer and grocer. He also was a musician. As the story goes, he bought a wooden flute soon after getting off the boat. I don’t know too much about Caroline other than the basic biographical facts. As for the portraits, I’m not sure on the exact date, but I can deduce that they probably were painted in New York around the 1860s.

What part of your body do you like to show off?

I was tempted to pick another random question because this one is just so…bleh. Currently, nothing. Except maybe my fingernails. I recently started growing them out and they are kind of pretty. Other than that I’m really kind of self conscious about my looks. When I was younger I still had confidence issues regarding my body (who doesn’t?), but I was told I had nice lips and I felt kind of good wearing a crop top.

Life is Short. Time is Fast.

It had been a peaceful evening in the household; the daughter was getting ready for bed and I was starting to pack for my trip tomorrow when the doorbell started ringing frantically. It was the neighbor kid. I won’t go into details but something was amiss at her house and I raced over there to take care of what I could. An hour later things were as sorted as they could be and my daughter and I headed home. Needless to say, the adrenaline is pumping and I couldn’t sleep if I tried. I’d try painting or reading to calm my nerves, but the light isn’t good in this house at night and the current trashy romance novel I’m reading, I fear isn’t a HEA (Happily Ever After) and well, that’s just not going to work. So here I am.

I am going to visit my best friend from High School tomorrow. We’ve not been able to see each other for many, many years we’ve been very fortunate to have able to maintain our friendship. We’re planning on going to see Night Ranger. I used to be a freakin’ huge Night Ranger fangirl back in the day and while my enthusiasm has wained a bit for them over the years they will always be a sentimental favorite of mine. Earlier in the day on my friend’s blog she wrote about the concert and her thoughts surrounding music and the event. Of course this in turn prompted my own thoughts.

Some time ago I saw a meme on Facebook that stuck with me, that said “Life is too short, buy the shoes, go to the concert, eat the cake”. Something along that vein anyway. I used to go to shows all the time in my 20’s into my 30’s. I got to see a lot of great bands, experience some pretty epic music. I made friends, had adventures and thoroughly enjoyed myself. Even if I didn’t particularly like a band it was fun being with my people dancing freely or moshing in the pit.

Then I got married, had my daughter and thought I had to make more “grown up” choices. This was by no means my daughter’s or anyone else’s doing, just some silly notion I told myself. Don’t get me wrong I love being a mom and nothing is more important than this, I forgot all about the balance of things.

But then…2 years ago I woke up to the news that my musical idol, Chris Cornell had unexpectedly died. He and Soundgarden had performed near me not 2 days before, and again, I talked myself out of going. The regret still runs deep. This coupled with the recent illnesses and deaths kind of was like an eye opener. Regret is something I don’t want dragging me down anymore. There are a lot of things besides missed concerts and fancy shoes not purchased that I regret.

So when my friend tossed the idea out me driving over for the concert and for a visit, without hesitation I agreed. No more am I going to let things slide, let life happen and wallow in the regrets of things I didn’t do or say.

Tell your people you love them, that you appreciate them.

Buy the fancy shoes, if that’s your thing.

Have your cake and eat it too, frosting and all.

Buy the damn concert tickets.

Go. Do it.

Seeking the Balance

I’ve been wanting to write this for weeks, ever since a talk I had with my friend weeks ago when we took our trip back to our old college town, but life happens. I can’t recall exactly what it was that directed out conversation onto this topic so perhaps the how’s and why’s aren’t so important.

The topic? Balance.

In all things…balance. You’ve got to take the ugly with the beauty.

There cannot be good without evil; order without chaos.

There is no light without the darkside. (Yes, that is a Star Wars reference. Apologies to Han, but I kind of have a thing for hokey religions and ancient weapons).

In order for one organism to live another must die. The balance of nature, the good old Circle of Life that Mufasa kept talking about.

I’m not an overly religious person. Spiritual, sure, with a heavy dose of agnosticism thrown in. I believe there is a higher power (for lack of a better word) but I don’t feel that it’s existence can, nor should be, proven. I was raised in the Catholic faith and while, I still go to mass and find a certain peacefulness in the ritual I feel that my personal beliefs are more in sync with some Native American cultures. (“God” is more of a force, an energy, that flows and ebbs through all things. Through the rocks, us, all living things…everything, making everything connected). There is a feeling of balance and harmony that I do not find within the confines of my Catholic upbringing.

For quite sometime my life has been way out of whack, the balance has been heavily leaning towards the negative. Much of it has not been in my control, and I acknowledge those bits I can’t change. Like a bear out of hibernation, I feel like I’ve awoken from a long nap, and I’m going to start finding my balance, my positive again.

In recent months I’ve lost my Dad, my Uncle and yesterday, a former student. My husband’s ongoing battle with depression has been stressful and often has left me feeling wilted and unhappy. These things are all horribly sad. They are also things that are beyond my control and they are not my battles to fight. It’s been a struggle at times, but through this darkness I have found my light. The balance I was looking for. It has always been there, its light dulled, but it has always been there waiting for me. I started painting again and it felt so good! I’ve reconnected with old friends that have brought so much joy into my life. Music has returned, bringing with it exciting new artists. I have a smart, fun kid who likes to hang out with me, even though enforcing the rules and boundaries set up for her, has earned me “The Meanest Mom in the World” title.

In all things…balance. Let me not forget this.

Don’t Blink

I was going to write about Balance and my personal mantra, “in all things, balance”, but it seemed to be too much of a heady topic to tackle at 10:30 at night. So instead I’m going to write about something that had been on my mind of late, that’s a little less serious. Growing old(er).

Aging isn’t something I really ever thought too much about. It never really bothered me when my friends back in college, who were just a year or two younger than I, nicknamed me “Grandma” and gave me all sorts of crap about being older than dirt. I played along and pretended to be annoyed, but in all honesty it was funny. I wasn’t really phased when I turned 30, in fact, I thought it hysterical. Forty didn’t even bother me, though I think that was more due to the fact that I had 18/19 (ack, math) month year old running around and I was too tired to care.

Now I’m sitting here at 48, my 30 year high school reunion is next month and the big 5-0 is less than 2 years away. I’ve got more white hairs on my head than ever and a crazy urge to cover them all up. I’ve never dyed my hair for that purpose before, only when I wanted a different look, you know? Maybe I should have started using those anti-aging creams a decade ago? It bugs me that I’m even thinking this stuff.

Overall, I feel good, besides the weight issue, but I am getting that under control. Sure I might hear some pops and crackles when I stand up, but my knees don’t hurt; my back seems fine. I’m left wondering why is turning 50 bothering me? I mean, I don’t feel like I’m going to be 50. It feels like some cosmic joke.

Me. 50. How did this happen so fast?