On the journey

Photo: a present to yourself. Sift through all the photos of you from the past year. Choose one that best captures you; either who you are, or who you strive to be. Find the shot of you that is worth a thousand words. Share.

This photo was taken in August by Pastor Randy. Our group was walking back from the village of Mahove to our bus for a return trip to Tungamalenga. We were walking because Mahove is very remote, up a mountain, several kilometers off the dirt road. Every other time I've been there, I'd taken a Land Rover and had to replace a tire that was punctured along the way.

We had been to Mahove to talk about bringing water to this sprawling village. The women and children walk about 3 miles one way to get water for their village. Men don't fetch water. There is a wonderful, inspiring Bibi (grandmother) in the village who has persevered in her quest to bring water to this village. She visits the parish office (miles away) and continues to ask for help in bringing water to the village. We have heard this request for several years, and finally the parish placed this need as the number one priority on their list of partnership projects.

So in the village, we had met this time with local government officials. It's important to talk through the details with all the stakeholders in a project like this. Sometimes we'd like to just go in and make the project happen, but we've learned to listen first and follow the pace of our African partners.

I like a couple things about this photo. I have a newly framed enlargement of it on my wall at home, and every time I look at it I'm compelled to walk toward it. Is it because of the path? or to get a closer look? It draws me in, every time.

I like it because it puts me in perspective. Yes, it's a picture of me walking alongside Pastor Naftal, on the path from Mahove toward Makifu. I like that we are holding hands and are deep in conversation. But we are so small on this path in the vast landscape. What we're doing is important, but it's just part of something so much larger than we ourselves.

As I go from 2010 into 2011, I want to remember to enjoy the journey and all that it brings--the sweat, the effort, the long walks, the conversation, the purpose, the holding hands, the vast landscape, and being a small piece of something much larger than myself.

Away

Travel: How did you travel in 2010? How and/or where would you like to travel next year?

Last March I spent some fun days in Albuquerque at a conference but hardly saw the city beyond the conference center. Opportunity missed.

In August I spent three weeks in Tanzania, two of them with a group and the last week more on my own. Opportunity treasured.

In September, Bruce and I spent a few days driving down one side of the Mississippi River and up the other, exploring little towns, shops and wineries in Wisconsin and Minnesota. Opportunity for which we scrimped and saved.

Throughout the year there were short trips to visit family in New Ulm, Iowa, several parts of Wisconsin. Opportunities for which we are grateful.

Coming up next? 2011 looks to be a little more mundane on the travel front, sticking to car trips to visit family and to take kids to and from college. Even the annual music conference I attend is closer to home, in what feels like a ho-hum city, Milwaukee. I like Milwaukee fine, and I go for the conference and not the sightseeing, but it doesn't have quite the "ooh and ahh" factor of 2012's destination: New. York. City!!

But we're making one trip a priority for 2011: an anniversary trip for somewhere. Today Bruce and I are celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary and we had been planning to take a big trip somewhere together. But he's in a new job and has no vacation time to take until May. So we're planning to take a week or a little less at the end of May or early June, depending on my schedule.

Where? We're considering Charleston, unless it's too hot in June; Redwood National Forest; Vienna. Talk about diverse options!?! Time to do some research and thinking!

Beyond Avoidance: What should you have done this year but didn’t because you were too scared, worried, unsure, busy or otherwise deterred from doing? (Bonus: Will you do it?)

I've been struggling with these reverb10 writing prompts. Seemed like a fun idea when I started, but either I'm overwhelmed by my schedule, or too tired to write, or the prompts feel too personal to put on a blog, of all places.

But this one's easy.

What I should have done this year was practice organ.

For a couple years, my church has been working toward the goal of building a pipe organ for our sanctuary, to replace the old electronic organ that is held together by twine and spit, has all kinds of surprises each week for the organist and congregation. In this last year, the forces in the benevolent universe that govern such things began to align, and I knew we were going to get our organ someday soon.

And as choir accompanist, I know that when we have a decent instrument, our choir director will be selecting more anthems accompanied by organ. I better get prepared to play.

I've had some little training on the organ, and I can do it if I have to, given plenty of preparation time and some help deciding on which stops to use.

But I feel so gangly and uncoordinated at the organ. There's the feet to get moving, there's no damper pedal to help connect big reaches from chord to chord, there's the difference in touch at the keyboard, there's the issue of reading three staves or rearranging the voicing between the hands. All stuff that makes me feel awkward.

And then there's the big, big sound that comes out.

I don't have the experience yet to judge how the sound I hear at the console sounds to the rest of the room. Sometimes I'm too loud and don't know it, often too soft.

So all of this makes organ playing tops on my avoidance list. I suppose you could call it living in denial, knowing that the organ was coming and knowing I would occasionally be called on to play it and still not preparing. I had chances. I thought about taking lessons again a few years ago. And last spring, after playing organ for some choir anthem, the director encouraged me to play any little thing over the summer--some Bach for a random Sunday prelude, or some quiet stuff for offertory--just to increase my comfort level. But I didn't do it.

I have a couple pieces I always come back to when I do play organ. Bach, Franck. I like them well enough and can get them up to competent if not great.

So will I practice organ in 2011?

Probably. Maybe. If I have to. We'll see.

Unsubscribe & Delete

11 Things: What are 11 things your life doesn’t need in 2011? How will you go about eliminating them? How will getting rid of these 11 things change your life?

I spend a lot of time on the computer, for work, for volunteer tasks, for pleasure. But lately I spend the first several minutes of email sessions just deleting, deleting all kinds of stuff I no longer want to read. So I've started to become intentional about getting rid of the clutter. Here are eleven things I'm going banish from my in box:

1. Daily horoscopes. How did I get on that list?

2. Vegetarian recipes of the day. They're really not all that appetizing, sorry.

3. Discussion lists for homeschoolers with young families looking for playdates. My youngest is 14.

4. Dell Deals of the week. I just bought a computer, don't need another one just yet.

5. Facebook notifications. When I want to play on Facebook, I'll go there. Why read it twice?

6. College parent and alumni newsletters.

7. Screen It weekly newsletter. I rarely go to movies anymore, and I put more weight on what I hear from my friends. If I want to read reviews, I can go to the website.

8. Weekly sale updates from an online auction site that I used once, for one specific item not available anywhere else.

9. Two of the three daily devotions I receive. I tried them, they're all okay, but one stands out in a way the others do not.

10. Non profit organization emails for groups that I no longer have an interest in contributing to. Priorities change.

11. Follow up emails from a marketing seminar I attended. It was good, but now I have that information, thanks.

How will deleting and unsubscribing change my life in 2011? I hope I'll be more efficient with email and spend less time on the computer, feel less overwhelmed with information that's no longer relevant to my life, and have more time and attention to spend at the piano and with the people I love.

Community

Day 7: Community. Where have you discovered community, online or otherwise, in 2010? What community would you like to join, create or more deeply connect with in 2011?

[Yes, Day 7. I've obviously skipped a few. Who knows, I might come back to some of them but for now I'm happy responding to the prompts that speak to me.]

My patchwork life has several communities--the family, my closest friends, my studio families, my church music community, my Tanzania connected communities (here with people who support the Tanzanian mission, and there, the people in Tanzania), and then my music colleague community.

One of my most profound experiences of community in 2010 happened this fall during the visit of our guests from Tanzania. Last January, as a way to raise funds for the travel expenses, we had auctioned off the chance to share a meal with our guests. Members of our partnership committee offered to host a dinner in their homes with our guests and with four to eight other guests. The auction was really successful.

Two of our guests stayed in my home for ten days in October, and on eight of those ten evenings, we hosted dinner guests. Some nights as many as twelve or fourteen people gathered, some nights it was just eight or ten. There were families with children, couples, teens, people who had been to Tanzania and others who had not. Pastors, lay people, church members and people from outside the faith community.

Those dinners were one of my favorite things we did with the guests. My own children asked why we don't do this more often, wasn't it fun to have all these different people and all this interesting conversation. [Why don't we do this more often? Maybe because I teach during dinner time?]

It was fascinating to watch the interactions. It was like watching something holy as people made connections, asked questions, shared perspectives, reached across cultures to try to understand what we have in common and where we differ.

One night each guest took turns entertaining a baby and toddler, another night we discussed dating, engagement and marriage customs, another night one guest grabbed a guitar while my daughter played the accordion and we all sang.

Every guest told me how much they appreciated the opportunity to connect on a personal level with our Tanzanian friends.

The second place I've been exploring community this year is in my music organization. As part of my preparation for taking on the presidency of the group next summer, I've visited many of the local associations of music teachers around the state.

Local associations like the ones I've been visiting are the grassroots of this organization, the places where isolated, independent music teachers like me can connect with other professionals, create programs for their students, share information, continue their professional growth, and use their skills to give back to other colleagues.

When I was a brand new piano teacher years ago, the internet wasn't around and I couldn't just google all my questions. How do I write a studio policy? How much can I charge? How do I teach a kid to read music when they've got such a good ear that they pick up all the easy songs the first time they hear them? When do you push and when do you let an overcommitted student coast for awhile?

I lived in New Ulm when I started teaching and I was blessed to have an active group of about 15 teachers who met monthly; I could ask them anything. They shared their experiences, referred students to me, helped me in countless ways.

When I moved away from New Ulm to the metro area, I didn't join a local group. I had babies, I told myself they were my priority and that I could get along without the professional support. A couple years ago I finally joined a local group again and have realized how much I missed that comraderie.

So now I've been visiting other groups, getting to know people, giving them a chance to get to know me a little, and oh, how interesting it has been. Each group has its own flavor. Some have been around a long time, others are relatively new. Some wear name tags, in others, the members all seem to know each other already. Some have recitals and many programs for their students, others are primarily organized for the fellowship of the members.

One thing that's weird is how often I am among the youngest people in the room.

I think of how important that group was to me when I was starting out -- where are the young teachers today finding their support and their community? Are they all online?

I would like to explore ways to bridge the gaps in 2011.

In the community that supports our church's partnership with the people in Tanzania, how can we make connections that extend and continue the conversations we had with our guests?

In my music teachers association, what do we need to create so that people who don't come to meetings can find the same support, information, connections, development opportunities and community that I remember being so vital to me at that stage of my life? My gut feeling is that it will be an online community that could bridge the gaps between old and young, metro and rural, college faculty and independent teachers. I'd love to see a blog with excellent writers taking turns, creating compelling content that would in turn elicit reader response that would eventually create community.

One word: Striving

I've discovered an interesting end of the year blogging challenge at Reverb10 and decided, what the heck, better late than never. So even though it was supposed to start December 1st I'm going to jump in and do what suits my fancy. The idea is to use daily writing prompts to reflect on the year that is ending, and make plans for the coming year.

Day 1 challenge: One Word. Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word. Now, imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you?

My word for the year 2010 is striving. I've been striving toward goals, striving toward high standards, striving toward perfectionism. Want to know how much striving I've done? Even this blog post has been started three times, with three different words each time.

About eleven months ago, I went on a two day retreat. Beautiful place in northern Minnesota, staying in a compact hermitage/cabin that held everything I needed and nothing I didn't. Serenity outside my windows with snow and woods and cardinals; the warmth of a log fire inside my cabin. Space and time to think and dream and reflect.

I spent those two days thinking about how to balance my life. I knew that's what I was supposed to have as my goal, I know that's what my life lacks. Balance between work and play, giving and receiving, obligations and freedom, calendar and free time, clients and family, doing and being, checking off items on the to do list and giving myself the space and time to feel the spirit.

I made some really good plans. I had a list of things to do to create a better balance in my life. Take time for yoga every day, set a weekly date night with my spouse, be intentional about getting together with friends for coffee. I knew what I should do, I had measurable goals, I set up a way to track progress toward my goals, and I made a weekly appointment with myself for time for reflection.

And I want you to know, I've stuck to my goals at least 80-85% of the time. Excercise, check. Date night, check. Friends, check. Weekly check in, check.

So I've been striving toward balance, and guess what? I don't feel any more balance in my life, I just feel more striving.

I remember that just as I left that place of retreat and tranquility last January, there was this niggling voice in my head saying, "I don't really want balance. I want all the things I've always wanted, a loving family, a comfortable home, challenging work, fulfilling commitments, a place to express my creativity, and the chance to make a difference in the world somewhere. I want it all."

Maybe my life is not going to be perfectly balanced. I guess I will always be dropping one ball or another. But I'm looking more closely now at the rhythm and the tempo of my life. My days often resemble a classical sonata in three movements, with the Allegro opening, an Adagio in the middle of the day, with a fast Rondo to close the afternoon and evening. Sometimes it's a four movement work, with a minuet or scherzo thrown in for good measure.

Most of the time this year, that rhythm and tempo has been okay. It enabled me to do work I love, get paid enough to allow me to do other stuff I love, go places I wanted to go, do things I wanted to do and accomplish things that give me great satisfaction.

I know I'm in a really extraordinary place where I don't do and I don't have to do anything that I don't really want to do. How many people can say that about their work and other commitments? It may be that I have a few too many things that I love and want to do.

So I've been striving, and there are many good things about that. Every once in awhile I think about how life would be if I adopted another way. Right now I haven't got another word for where I want to be this time next year. I could work on coming up with one. Or I could wait and see what bubbles up.