It seems clear from this vantage point that the falling apart of things planned for this fall created the space for what needed to happen to happen. Another way of saying this is, “Thank God I am not teaching umpteen writing classes!” It also seems clear that my plans for myself are often the paler, safer version of what good ol ‘Saint Higher Power has in mind for me. To wit, my week:
I started a new job. I haven’t worked in a year. I survived an 8 hour orientation. Sort of. At least, I came back the next day. As Loretta LaRoche points out, if you really want to amuse your coworkers, waltz in, twirl, and announce, “I’m back!” I didn’t do that. I, like everyone else, was on my best behavior, went where I was supposed to go, learned a whole lot of stuff, was welcomed and welcomed, and when I came home I was happy to be there, but not exhausted, I noted, not exhausted. I look forward to doing my actual job which is going to be much easier than orientation.
My song, Singer’s Prayer, (written in 1998-ish) was taught at a conference of 88 hospice singers representing hospice choirs from around New England. It was sung again at a memorial service honoring those who have died in the past year and their families. This wonderful turn of events forced me to finish the publishing process, which means that the sheet music is now available on this very website, as is the mp3 of my old band, Purple Martin, singing it with me, on our album, Don’t Tell James. Listen, download! It’s yummy. Thanks to Brian Middleton and Brice Buchanan for the scrumptious harmonies and for the arrangement.
After a long drought, I spent the day Saturday drumming with my frame drum buds. I really can’t describe what it’s like to keep time with your body, speak the rhythms with your mouth and play them with your hands in a group of people, with two lovely teachers leading. I strongly recommend you experience this for yourself. Drum some, it’s good for you.
Yesterday, I received my new hearing aids. These are bright blue, little high tech nubbins that sit behind my ear and pick up absolutely everything. I am astonished beyond belief that I have been given these by the state Department of Vocational Rehabilitation. I take it as a statement of belief in me, and I intend to use them in my work— all of the different kinds of work that I do— with the utmost respect and gratitude for the people who made this possible. My voc rehab counselor is an amazing woman who rivals me in the inspiration department. She validated everything I am doing, encouraged me to use all the resources available to me, and told me that everyone deserves to work, because work is our connection to the world and how we share our gifts. I have no idea if my Tea Party governor agrees or approves of this use of taxpayer funds, but to even him, I am grateful.
Lastly, and oh so nonchalantly, I’ve decided to go for it, and am doing the NaNoWriMo challenge. So, yeah, I (and thousands of others) am writing a novel in the month of November. I am averaging about 1000 words a day, which means I have to ramp it up if I’m to reach 50,000 by the end of the month. So if you are reading this and you too are doing NaNo, congratulations on throwing your hat over the wall! Keep it up! And don’t worry about the novel itself. If I let myself worry about what the hell I am writing I would never, ever do it. I am just writing, without plan. These characters are showing up and doing things, and I have no more idea who they are than you do. But stay tuned! That could change at any time.
The over-arching feeling I have been having, through all of this cavalcade of experience, accomplishment, challenge and changes has been one of being exactly where I am supposed to be. Not only that, but I may be getting the hang of actually trusting that Whatever is doing all this is Good.
And, not for nothing, but why does it suddenly seem not only possible but likely that I will be working and writing each and every day, and there is time for it all?
Okay, that’s me. Until next week, believe in Good and listen for the bigger, bolder plan.
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