My Way vs. Bob Marley's Way

Things don't go my way sometimes.

Yesterday--a beautiful, warm day-- I went to a place and asked about a summer job, and they said, "We're hiring, but not for the summer." My confidence deflated a bit.

Then this morning I wake up, and am greeted by my brother with, "The dog threw up." Which translates as, "Clean it up." He quickly exits the scene to take the dog for a walk, so I do what I gotta do and find the carpet stain spray stuff in the red bottle.

But then--and I know how cliche this must sound--Three Little Birds came on the radio, and my attitude changed. Every little thing is going to be alright. Doesn't mean that it'll go my way, but that it will be alright.

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.

My idea of a fun weekend

Johanna and Emily sharing a laugh

Life is good.

I often over-work, I spend too much time at the computer, and I tend to think/obsess/worry about tasks left undone when I'm not actively doing them. My weekend activities don't usually look too much different from my weekday activities. I like things that way, but every once in a while even I need a break from routine.

That's when I rent a toddler.

You can rent them pretty cheaply. Actually, all you have to do is offer their parents some free time and you can pretty much get a toddler whenever you want one.

I'm blessed to have two toddlers in my life who are often available. This weekend Johanna is visiting. She laughs at the dog, she has enthusiasm for the most tedious household task, she takes us to the playground "over this way," and she keeps us laughing with her commentary on life. "I not a baby, I a girl," she says emphatically. To my dog, she says, "Puppy, that's enough barking." She's right.

Parenting a two year old is exhausting, but hosting a two year old for a weekend is not. For me, it's a shot in the arm, a break from routine, an opportunity to dwell in the moment and remember that the ordinary things of life are extraodinary.

Thanks, Johanna. Thanks, her parents.

Precious time

I love my work, don't get me wrong.

I love my volunteer commitments, make no mistake.

But right now I am experiencing two weeks in between. Home from my travels to Tanzania, where there are many things to do, many people to see, many requests and plans to follow up on my return. Yet not in my school year schedule of piano students, regular meetings, choir rehearsals and Sunday morning worship services.

I'm working ahead, planning, practicing, and coordinating many of those teaching, accompanying and volunteer projects that will come up this fall. But somehow, the time still seems like mine.

Each morning I revel in a walk with my daughter. Sometimes we talk, sometimes we just walk.

I've scheduled coffee or lunch with colleagues and friends, catching up, planning ahead, or just enjoying.

I take my son to lunch, or to a bookstore.

When stuff frustrates me, I pull weeds in my garden.

And I love these days. I know I'd get bored if these days lasted longer than two weeks. But for now, the time is precious, and I am full of gratitude for the end of summer.

Milwaukee

So, on the top of the screen it says that we mostly blog about music, our travels and wonderings.
I've talked about music and wonderings, but I don't really have too much traveling planned--no Africa this year.
Mom goes off to Tanzania for three weeks in August with a group from our church, and I will be keeping things together at home with my family. College hunting, of course, is my main priority right now, but at the same time I'm trying to manage those decisions in a way so that I won't go crazy.
I tell you, Dear Reader, it is impossible.

But I am getting excited for one brand new experience: Building a house in Milwaukee for Habitat for Humanity. On Sunday morning me and a bunch of other kids and adults from my church will wake up bright and early (well, more just early) and be on the road to Milwaukee at 5:30 AM. We're leaving at that insanely early hour to make it to a Brewers game at 1PM, so they better win.
We'll be framing a house in the city, with help from local volunteers, young AmeriCorps volunteers, and the future owners of the house. That's one of the cool things about this organization, that the family is expected to work a certain amount of hours to build their own house. Imagine the sense of accomplishment and pride they have to be living in a permanent home that they built with their own two hands.
None of us going have extensive construction skills; we can hammer, drill, measure, sand, paint and lift things, simple things, but that doesn't matter. We'll be learning a lot on the job, working hard, having fun, coming back tired in the evening, then doing it all over again. I'm excited to get to know my fellow travelers and also the people we'll work with in Milwaukee, excited to see this city, and to make myself useful, being one piece of the puzzle in helping a community.

We hope to be witnesses to amazing things during this next week, and I can't wait to find out what they'll be.

A word from the mom

I haven't been keeping up my end of this blog. Let's get that out there right away. Despite Em's gentle nudges---"you could write about that, Mom!"---"that would make an interesting blog post, Mom!"--I have, as usual, let work take precedence.

What's this blog's title? Play on. Play.

Play is not what comes naturally to me. I was a serious kid. I liked to read. I liked to listen to adult conversations. I didn't care much about meeting unfamiliar kids or playing tag, hide and seek, or alley alley in free.

And I'm a serious adult. I take responsibility, I follow through, I do what I say I'm going to do, I work hard, I accomplish the things I want to accomplish.

But. How fun is a life without play?

I have learned to play through watching my children. There was some child psychologist who talked about the concentration exhibited by children stringing beads. I have watched my children, and my piano students, as they metaphorically were stringing beads. Sometimes what they were actually doing was moving sand, forming dikes and ponds, sometimes what they were doing was taking on a role, and sometimes playing "Heart and Soul."

But the thing all these play-ers had in common was, they were in the moment. Experiencing whatever they were doing without any self consciousness at all. Totally absorbed in what they were doing, without the "how am I doing" or what do they think of me" or any of those other self conscious thoughts that intrude.

Those are the moments I'm seeking to create in my life.