"MOVE! FEEL the MUSIC!.....", she shouted over the deafening volume of the song. I had to smile....sweat dripping down my face, hips gyrating, feet flying - arms jerking to the tribal beat....because my awe inspiring, drill sergeant Zumba instructor had just hit the proverbial nail on the head. If only she could have shouted those words to me LAST year.
It has been a year....372 days to be exact, since I wrote my first Blog - it was about being stuck in Mid Life. As I re-read it now, I realize I was not just stuck - I was plummeting towards the downward spiral of no return. I was miserable, and old....and in pain - physically and mentally.....and fat.....very fat. I could see nothing ahead of me...I was in trouble.
What a difference 372 days can make in a persons life. They have been 372 days of loss and sorrow, pain and trouble, more loss, new life AND renewed life and laughter....and music.....and movement. In March, when I decided to loose a few pounds so I could buy a decent dress, I could have never imagined that I would be sitting here in September - 69 pounds lighter, Moving and Feeling the Music!
I have always loved to dance - once upon a time I got paid good money to dance - 5 to 6 shows a week (Get your minds out of the gutter, there were no poles involved - theatrical dance, not that other kind....). 372 days ago, there was not much dancing going on.... it was mostly shuffling and limping.....Two months ago, I stepped into a classroom - complete with an entire wall of mirrors. I stood in the back row, telling myself I was just there to encourage Baby and Babiest. - they wanted to try Zumba. I thought that I would make it through the first song or two, slip quietly out and walk on the treadmill while I waited for them to finish their class....after the first song, I knew I was hooked.Our instructor is a dynamo - an amazing dancer, and an effective motivator. And the music....it gets into your blood....and the dancing itself....the moving....it reminded me that I was alive.
It wasn't a pretty sight at first - me trying to remember how to dance. My form was terrible, and my endurance.....forget about it! I looked like a fish out of water - gasping for breath, but as the days went by, my form AND endurance returned....and my bodys' sense memory begged for more. Muscles and vertebrae loosened - one by one, awakening from their long sleep. I am now enthralled by my leg muscles - they WORK! They can pull me up a hill, or flights of stairs. They allow me to leap up from the sofa, and squat and bend down. Amazing things, really.
To my beautiful Zumba instructor - I would say, "I DO feel the music.....all the time!" More than once, I have caught myself dancing down an aisle in the Teeter, or the Wal Mart.....and sometimes, there's not even any music playing! I worry for the day that someone at Church catches me doing the Samba (Or worse still, The Wobble) down the long hall in the Children's Department. I was even chair dancing in Choir on Wednesday night! I dance in the kitchen, I dance in the driveway while Crack House Puppy plays outside (Sorry, neighbors....)...I move, and I feel the music - of life. I am re-awakened....I no longer feel old (I mean, HECK, my Zumba instructor is a year OLDER than me, and she is Fabulous!)...and while I suppose I am still a Mid Life Wife, I feel like I should change the name of my blog to "How Kelley got her Groove Back....."........Move!.....Feel the Music!......Zumba!
Friday, September 13, 2013
Monday, September 2, 2013
To each his own....the Victory.
I failed the class....not once, not twice, but three times. It was the bane of my existence, and my Mother was mortified. Three times in as many years, I failed the beginner swim class at City Lake Park. Each time, I was the only child that did not pass - the only one that did not get to swim in the deep end. The only child doomed to repeat beginners - not invited to continue my aquatic education, with advanced strokes and....diving. I put my little Irish foot down after the third failure and flat out refused to ever take another lesson. I must have been about 11 years old, and truly, it may be the only time my Mother ever allowed me to tell her "NO!" Shortly thereafter, we joined the Neighborhood Swim Club, where my best friend patiently spent summer after summer, teaching me how to dog paddle, then to crawl....then to give my best approximation of freestyle (Which, let me tell you, does NOT involve me putting my face in the water for even the tiniest of seconds), and finally, at about the same time I learned to drive a car, I learned to do 10 - 15 feet of the backstroke. (That dear girl also tried her best to get me to jump off of the diving board - not a high dive, mind you, but just a little one. Weary of her cajoling, in a weak moment, I allowed her to help me up the ladder. I walked to the edge, pinched my nose shut, closed my eyes, and in I went - swallowing half of the pool water as I descended - only surfacing thanks to the heroic dive and rescue efforts of my bestie!).
So now you know - I am no fish....I don't like the deep end, I hate to have my face under water, and if ever confronted with a tragic boating accident, I would be voted most likely to drown in the absence of a floatation device. My idea of swimming involves a few moments of floating on my back and kicking my feet a bit.....and I have always been OK with that.
Today, at the age of 64, Diana Nyad finished her swim from Cuba to Key West....without stopping to rest. She first attempted this in 1978, and has tried over and over again in the ensuing years - never giving up on her insane dream....Such an accomplishment! Such a feat of endurance and athletic prowess.How proud and fulfilled she must be tonight. I mention this, only because this was an aquatically momentous day for more than one swimmer.
On Mondays, I take water aerobics (We joined a gym - I LOVE it - I Zumba 3 days a week, take this Monday water class, and do a little weight work too. The girls come along, and we all have a really great time!)
Today being Labor Day however, all Night classes were cancelled. "That's OK", I said to myself -"I'll just take the morning class, since I have no Staff Meeting today". I suited up, and was right ready at the appointed hour...there was no one....no classmates, no teacher - just a lone middle aged man doing laps. It's a two lane pool (We take down the lane rope for our class), so I figured I would do my own class....I've been going long enough now that I've got the moves down. I made some chit chat with the other swimmer - you know...."Don't mind me - I'm just going to hang in this corner and jog and jump around". I may or may not have scared him off with my maneuverings, because he was gone in a flash. "Great", I thought - "A private pool!" I worked hard for about 30 minutes, and started to get bored....water aerobics for one is not nearly so much fun as a pool full of people. I grabbed a noodle, thinking I would just float for a bit. I don't know what prompted me to put the noodle under my stomach, but once it was there, I realized that it cured my most basic problem with swimming. My center of gravity must be wonky, because I can never seem to stay prone in the water. Assisted by the noodle hugging my waist, I took a few strokes. "Huh", I thought. "So THIS is what it feels like to swim". A few more strokes followed, and before you knew it, I had swum an entire lap - my first ever. (It is a competition length pool - not the little short squatty kind). Emboldened by my success, I did another, and another - switching to backstroke by readjusting the noodle to the small of my back. All told, I swam 10 laps. What a feeling of accomplishment I had! As I exited the pool, my arms and legs trembled uncontrollably, and for a moment I doubted my ability to walk into the dressing room, where Baby girl was waiting....I must have looked a sight - rubber band limbs and all - grinning from ear to ear. Diana Nyad's got nothing on me! I am sure that she is exhausted....so am I. I am sure that she is incredibly sore.....so am I. I am sure that she has limited mobility at the moment....so do I!(It was a real trick reaching my arms high enough to get my coffee mug off of the shelf after supper, let me tell you!) She may question her decision to make such a grueling, punishing swim....I know I feel that perhaps 10 laps on my first go round was about 5 laps too many! And I am just guessing here, but I bet she is already plotting her next swim.....as am I....to each his own....the Victory!
So now you know - I am no fish....I don't like the deep end, I hate to have my face under water, and if ever confronted with a tragic boating accident, I would be voted most likely to drown in the absence of a floatation device. My idea of swimming involves a few moments of floating on my back and kicking my feet a bit.....and I have always been OK with that.
Today, at the age of 64, Diana Nyad finished her swim from Cuba to Key West....without stopping to rest. She first attempted this in 1978, and has tried over and over again in the ensuing years - never giving up on her insane dream....Such an accomplishment! Such a feat of endurance and athletic prowess.How proud and fulfilled she must be tonight. I mention this, only because this was an aquatically momentous day for more than one swimmer.
On Mondays, I take water aerobics (We joined a gym - I LOVE it - I Zumba 3 days a week, take this Monday water class, and do a little weight work too. The girls come along, and we all have a really great time!)
Today being Labor Day however, all Night classes were cancelled. "That's OK", I said to myself -"I'll just take the morning class, since I have no Staff Meeting today". I suited up, and was right ready at the appointed hour...there was no one....no classmates, no teacher - just a lone middle aged man doing laps. It's a two lane pool (We take down the lane rope for our class), so I figured I would do my own class....I've been going long enough now that I've got the moves down. I made some chit chat with the other swimmer - you know...."Don't mind me - I'm just going to hang in this corner and jog and jump around". I may or may not have scared him off with my maneuverings, because he was gone in a flash. "Great", I thought - "A private pool!" I worked hard for about 30 minutes, and started to get bored....water aerobics for one is not nearly so much fun as a pool full of people. I grabbed a noodle, thinking I would just float for a bit. I don't know what prompted me to put the noodle under my stomach, but once it was there, I realized that it cured my most basic problem with swimming. My center of gravity must be wonky, because I can never seem to stay prone in the water. Assisted by the noodle hugging my waist, I took a few strokes. "Huh", I thought. "So THIS is what it feels like to swim". A few more strokes followed, and before you knew it, I had swum an entire lap - my first ever. (It is a competition length pool - not the little short squatty kind). Emboldened by my success, I did another, and another - switching to backstroke by readjusting the noodle to the small of my back. All told, I swam 10 laps. What a feeling of accomplishment I had! As I exited the pool, my arms and legs trembled uncontrollably, and for a moment I doubted my ability to walk into the dressing room, where Baby girl was waiting....I must have looked a sight - rubber band limbs and all - grinning from ear to ear. Diana Nyad's got nothing on me! I am sure that she is exhausted....so am I. I am sure that she is incredibly sore.....so am I. I am sure that she has limited mobility at the moment....so do I!(It was a real trick reaching my arms high enough to get my coffee mug off of the shelf after supper, let me tell you!) She may question her decision to make such a grueling, punishing swim....I know I feel that perhaps 10 laps on my first go round was about 5 laps too many! And I am just guessing here, but I bet she is already plotting her next swim.....as am I....to each his own....the Victory!
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Up the Down Staircase......
I had become a really good excuse maker......"My knee hurts"......"I'll meet you up there in a minute"......"No, I'd rather stand, thanks"........After 8 years of Open Houses and Concerts at our little school, I had a whole repertoire.....all designed to keep me from having to climb the numerous flights of stairs, or sit in those desks....you know, the torturous ones that have the table top attached to the seat. Why did I go to such lengths, to avoid those things? Because I couldn't climb one of those flights of stairs (much less the three flights required to go from the lower building to the upper) without being so out of breath that I thought I might faint. Because I could not so much as wedge my ever increasing girth into one of those demon desks in a classroom, That's why!
Tonight, at the 9th straight Open House I have attended at our little school (Where Baby Girl will be a SENIOR!) ( Babiest Girl would have been a Freshman, but I can now release the news that she will be attending a fancy school in a neighboring town, and BOY, is she excited!), I climbed those stairs - ALL. OF. THEM.....even the three flights between buildings. I sat in those desks - with room to spare between my body and the laminate desktop....Nothing hurt, I was never out of breath....not once, and my biggest fear of all, getting stuck in one of those damnable desks - evaporated - like a drop of rain falling on a steamy sidewalk. As cheesy as it sounds, I don't mind admitting that when I climbed the last few steps of the three flights, the song from Rocky was blaring in my head, resonating with a jubilance reserved for major life events....and make no mistake....this. was. one.
There have been many such victories, in the last few weeks - I have made the transition from Plus Size clothing to what I have long referred to as Regular People clothing. I can cross my legs - something I haven't done in over 20 years. I can reach the back of my head with my curling iron, and not have to prop my arm on the wall by the sink to hold it there. I can bend over in a chair and buckle my shoes. I can once again, for the first time since we were Newlyweds, steal one of Johns Tee Shirts and have it be big enough for a night shirt. My rings, once devices of circulation strangulation are now falling off of my fingers (I recently lost my thumb ring - only to find it on the floorboard of the car). I can work in the yard, and use a dustpan. I can get down on my knees to peer into the cavernous depths of my baking dish cupboard, AND get back up. I actually carried boxes and other assorted heavy items into College Boys Dorm last weekend....multiple trips, up stairs and hills, instead of staying in the room and "organizing", like I did last year....in short, after 62 pounds lost, I am a functioning human again.
I list these things, not to brag, but to catalog....against the day that I falter - days when temptation and diet exhaustion get the better of me....to remind myself that NOTHING tastes as good as climbing those stairs tonight FELT....to remind myself that a large Coke from the Sonic is a poor substitute for the satisfaction I felt as I slipped into that desk.....to remind myself that there are even greater things waiting for me at the end of this weight loss journey....bike rides, and a hike up to the Appalachian Trail.....zip lining and indoor skydiving (Hey - they're on my bucket list)....high heels and a slinky dress (Yes, the Diva in me only lies dormant - not dead!).....Health....Fitness....who knows what I will dream up while I loose the last 40 pounds....after all....you're only as young as you feel.....Thanks be to God.
Tonight, at the 9th straight Open House I have attended at our little school (Where Baby Girl will be a SENIOR!) ( Babiest Girl would have been a Freshman, but I can now release the news that she will be attending a fancy school in a neighboring town, and BOY, is she excited!), I climbed those stairs - ALL. OF. THEM.....even the three flights between buildings. I sat in those desks - with room to spare between my body and the laminate desktop....Nothing hurt, I was never out of breath....not once, and my biggest fear of all, getting stuck in one of those damnable desks - evaporated - like a drop of rain falling on a steamy sidewalk. As cheesy as it sounds, I don't mind admitting that when I climbed the last few steps of the three flights, the song from Rocky was blaring in my head, resonating with a jubilance reserved for major life events....and make no mistake....this. was. one.
There have been many such victories, in the last few weeks - I have made the transition from Plus Size clothing to what I have long referred to as Regular People clothing. I can cross my legs - something I haven't done in over 20 years. I can reach the back of my head with my curling iron, and not have to prop my arm on the wall by the sink to hold it there. I can bend over in a chair and buckle my shoes. I can once again, for the first time since we were Newlyweds, steal one of Johns Tee Shirts and have it be big enough for a night shirt. My rings, once devices of circulation strangulation are now falling off of my fingers (I recently lost my thumb ring - only to find it on the floorboard of the car). I can work in the yard, and use a dustpan. I can get down on my knees to peer into the cavernous depths of my baking dish cupboard, AND get back up. I actually carried boxes and other assorted heavy items into College Boys Dorm last weekend....multiple trips, up stairs and hills, instead of staying in the room and "organizing", like I did last year....in short, after 62 pounds lost, I am a functioning human again.
I list these things, not to brag, but to catalog....against the day that I falter - days when temptation and diet exhaustion get the better of me....to remind myself that NOTHING tastes as good as climbing those stairs tonight FELT....to remind myself that a large Coke from the Sonic is a poor substitute for the satisfaction I felt as I slipped into that desk.....to remind myself that there are even greater things waiting for me at the end of this weight loss journey....bike rides, and a hike up to the Appalachian Trail.....zip lining and indoor skydiving (Hey - they're on my bucket list)....high heels and a slinky dress (Yes, the Diva in me only lies dormant - not dead!).....Health....Fitness....who knows what I will dream up while I loose the last 40 pounds....after all....you're only as young as you feel.....Thanks be to God.
Saturday, August 3, 2013
Harmony.....
It smelled of fresh paint. The sun was streaming in the tall windows - 7 on each side of the room. From my perch behind the microphone I could see blue sky, and I watched the trees dancing in the gentle summer breeze. It was, in short, one of the most precious experiences of my life, and even though the Sanctuary was empty, it was truly Spiritual. This afternoon, we went over to the Church - College Boy and I - to practice our music for tomorrow. My Son and I will be singing our first ever duet - He will take the lead.
I should have known that he would grow up to be a fine musician. When he was a toddler, he sang all of the time. We sang together at bath time, at bedtime, and all of the in between times. The amazing thing, is that even at a very early age - he could hold the melody line, while I sang a few notes of harmony. His favorite toy? A little electronic violin that would play 7 or 8 different tunes....the trick was that you had to move the "bow" over the electronic sensor in the correct rhythm, or it would just be a random series of notes. The labeling on the package read "for 8 years and up"......College Boy mastered it before his third birthday.
So tomorrow, he will raise his voice, and play his guitar - He will lead the music in our early service - in the House of God where I was raised by my parents.....the same House of God where I, in turn, raised my children. As we sang today - our voices rising and falling in harmony and synchronized breath - my minds eye offered up a vivid slide show. Me, standing in the choir loft at the same age College Boy is now, singing a duet with my Father, who was also an outstanding musician....Holding my baby boy, there in that very Sanctuary, as he was dedicated to the Lord...Watching him Process down the aisle in his little white choir robe with the big red collar - waving his Palm Branch (a more accurate description might be "bashing his friends in the head with his Palm Branch", but still.....). I saw him as a young teenager, standing tall and proud in front of the altar, as he received his Eagle Scout award....but most of all, I saw him floating in the Bathtub, singing his favorite songs - "You are my Sunshine", "Goodnight Ladies" (Do not ASK me how this song found it's way into a two year old's repertoire - I can not tell you, but he sang it with great enthusiasm....), and anything from The Jungle Book or Pete's Dragon.
As we practiced this afternoon, I felt the presence of my Fathers....the Earthly One, long gone to his reward, and the Heavenly One - who delights in the voices of His Children. Standing there on the podium, in my usual place - at the end, just to the left of the piano, I delighted in the voice of MY Child....of our voices together - just as they were so many years ago....the Same, yet different - separate voices, weaving notes and love together...fed by the music, the harmony and the Spirit.
Tomorrow, I will marvel at how my little boy has grown into this man...I will stand in awe of his talents....I will sing with my Son during Worship - knowing that I am blessed.....beyond measure.
I should have known that he would grow up to be a fine musician. When he was a toddler, he sang all of the time. We sang together at bath time, at bedtime, and all of the in between times. The amazing thing, is that even at a very early age - he could hold the melody line, while I sang a few notes of harmony. His favorite toy? A little electronic violin that would play 7 or 8 different tunes....the trick was that you had to move the "bow" over the electronic sensor in the correct rhythm, or it would just be a random series of notes. The labeling on the package read "for 8 years and up"......College Boy mastered it before his third birthday.
So tomorrow, he will raise his voice, and play his guitar - He will lead the music in our early service - in the House of God where I was raised by my parents.....the same House of God where I, in turn, raised my children. As we sang today - our voices rising and falling in harmony and synchronized breath - my minds eye offered up a vivid slide show. Me, standing in the choir loft at the same age College Boy is now, singing a duet with my Father, who was also an outstanding musician....Holding my baby boy, there in that very Sanctuary, as he was dedicated to the Lord...Watching him Process down the aisle in his little white choir robe with the big red collar - waving his Palm Branch (a more accurate description might be "bashing his friends in the head with his Palm Branch", but still.....). I saw him as a young teenager, standing tall and proud in front of the altar, as he received his Eagle Scout award....but most of all, I saw him floating in the Bathtub, singing his favorite songs - "You are my Sunshine", "Goodnight Ladies" (Do not ASK me how this song found it's way into a two year old's repertoire - I can not tell you, but he sang it with great enthusiasm....), and anything from The Jungle Book or Pete's Dragon.
As we practiced this afternoon, I felt the presence of my Fathers....the Earthly One, long gone to his reward, and the Heavenly One - who delights in the voices of His Children. Standing there on the podium, in my usual place - at the end, just to the left of the piano, I delighted in the voice of MY Child....of our voices together - just as they were so many years ago....the Same, yet different - separate voices, weaving notes and love together...fed by the music, the harmony and the Spirit.
Tomorrow, I will marvel at how my little boy has grown into this man...I will stand in awe of his talents....I will sing with my Son during Worship - knowing that I am blessed.....beyond measure.
Saturday, July 20, 2013
Tale as Old as Time.....
"Handsome as my Daddy".....four little words, printed on a newborn tee - a gift, at today's Baby Shower. They were my undoing. For the shirt is intended for my as yet unborn great nephew - Charles. His Daddy? My much loved, much mourned late nephew - Chuck. I have no doubt that little Charles will be as handsome as his Daddy was - I am sure that he will also be as beautiful as his Peruvian Mother - Vanessa. I hope that he has her thick black hair and big brown eyes, I hope that he is healthy and robust, I hope that he comes gently into this hard world - but most of all, I hope that he bears the impish grin that was his Father's trademark.
Today was a testament of love and hope....It was a coming together of good Christian women - doing what they do best.....caring for those in need of succor. The shower was hosted by friends of my Sister In Law ( I am sure that they are also my Brother's friends, but in a situation such as this - a hen party and all, we will refer to them as Her friends). The table was piled high with gifts - front and center was a portrait of Chuck and Van on their second wedding day - the one in Peru. (As usual, he was sporting that grin....). The fragrance of friendship permeated the room and enveloped those of us who were relative strangers - Food spilled over from every corner, and abundant laughter laid the soundtrack. Occasional tears were shed and gazes were covered over with fleeting sadness, but we were bound together by the glue that comes from that mystical well of the Sacred Feminine.....that special place inside women that holds instinct, compassion, empathy, nurture......and strength..... strength to open present after present for a baby that was so very wanted by the Daddy that he will never know on this side of the veil - a Daddy that only learned of the creation of that precious baby on the Heavenly side of the veil.
I watched in awe and amazement, as I was reminded today, of the power of the Love of the Sisterhood - a tale as old as time.....Women, unconsciously calling on the special gifts of their spirits - weaving a healing, binding blanket of kindred love - the most ancient of spells - the tradition of caring for each other - a sharing of burden and sorrow....a tradition of digging deep and pulling forth a wellspring of hope for tomorrow, and gratitude for the blessings of the day. Today was a celebration of life anticipated - a remembrance of life lost.
Blessed be.......the tie that binds.
Today was a testament of love and hope....It was a coming together of good Christian women - doing what they do best.....caring for those in need of succor. The shower was hosted by friends of my Sister In Law ( I am sure that they are also my Brother's friends, but in a situation such as this - a hen party and all, we will refer to them as Her friends). The table was piled high with gifts - front and center was a portrait of Chuck and Van on their second wedding day - the one in Peru. (As usual, he was sporting that grin....). The fragrance of friendship permeated the room and enveloped those of us who were relative strangers - Food spilled over from every corner, and abundant laughter laid the soundtrack. Occasional tears were shed and gazes were covered over with fleeting sadness, but we were bound together by the glue that comes from that mystical well of the Sacred Feminine.....that special place inside women that holds instinct, compassion, empathy, nurture......and strength..... strength to open present after present for a baby that was so very wanted by the Daddy that he will never know on this side of the veil - a Daddy that only learned of the creation of that precious baby on the Heavenly side of the veil.
I watched in awe and amazement, as I was reminded today, of the power of the Love of the Sisterhood - a tale as old as time.....Women, unconsciously calling on the special gifts of their spirits - weaving a healing, binding blanket of kindred love - the most ancient of spells - the tradition of caring for each other - a sharing of burden and sorrow....a tradition of digging deep and pulling forth a wellspring of hope for tomorrow, and gratitude for the blessings of the day. Today was a celebration of life anticipated - a remembrance of life lost.
Blessed be.......the tie that binds.
Monday, July 15, 2013
All Quigley Down Under.....
It didn't hurt that he looked like Russel Crowe.....with a pony tail.....and a cool Celtic-y, tribal tattoo inside his Right forearm.....He was also great with kids, and an incredibly talented musician...a Total package that provided me with the best time I've had in a long time...at the Library, no less!
We stumbled upon this flyer last week, announcing a Didgeridoo workshop, on Monday July 15th. Babiest girl has had a fixation with the Didgeridoo for years, (Remember, this is the child whose favorite animal in Kindergarten was the Echidna....)so we decided to have a girls night out, Baby Girl, Babiest Girl and Me, and registered for the free workshop.We arrived at the appointed hour, and took our seats on the 2nd of two rows....Most of the participants were young children (a few of their parents joined us on the back row), and we were feeling a little out of place in the Children's Story Room......until "Quigley Down Under" walked into the room, strapped a bracelet made of bells around his ankle, sat on a Drum Box and blew into his instrument....you know.....the Didgeridoo. Now, let me insert right here, that I was fully prepared to be slightly bored - I mean, how interesting can a tubular instrument with no slides, no keys, no strings be? Just a long series of Johnny One Note, right?
How wrong I was.....First the drone started - then the split tones, and finally the rhythm and percussive force of his breath.... I was done for! (Like I said.....he looked like Russel Crowe!) It was pure electricity (The music, I mean.....I am a married woman, after all - AND, I was in the company of my daughters!). It was all I could do to stay in my seat - My feet and spirit wanted to dance - to join in the primal, rich, wanton beat. It sounded like Primordial Ooze, and campfire on a starry night, and antiquity. This was music to be heard with ear, heart and soul - and it spoke to the Wild Celtic Ancestors that reside in my person. It was pure, and organic, and liberating.
Sadly, this was not a long concert - it was a workshop, after all, and before we knew it, we were lining up to get our "student instruments" - a piece of pvc pipe, and a strip of masking tape (to ensure the sanitation of the "mouthpiece" - otherwise known as one end of the pipe). I am proud to say, that the Kennedy girls were the star pupils. I may have had an unfair advantage, because playing the Didgeridoo requires the same mouth positioning and breath as the Trumpet - which I played for most of my school years.) We laughed and laughed as we tried to coax "The. Sound." from the PVC, and giggled with pleasure and embarrassment, when we were asked to demonstrate our superior sounds to the group. The hour ended all too soon, and we were loathe to leave. We made of ourselves vocal Didgeridoos, droning the tunes and rhythms as we exited the Library, hand in hand - our high spirits leaking out, and made audible. What an amazing adventure, tucked into a little quiet corner, of our bland little town....On this out-of-the-ordinary Monday night, we Kennedy women will sleep with a smile on our lips, an aboriginal song in our hearts, and this unanswered question in our brains...."Where DOES one buy a Didgeridoo download"?!
We stumbled upon this flyer last week, announcing a Didgeridoo workshop, on Monday July 15th. Babiest girl has had a fixation with the Didgeridoo for years, (Remember, this is the child whose favorite animal in Kindergarten was the Echidna....)so we decided to have a girls night out, Baby Girl, Babiest Girl and Me, and registered for the free workshop.We arrived at the appointed hour, and took our seats on the 2nd of two rows....Most of the participants were young children (a few of their parents joined us on the back row), and we were feeling a little out of place in the Children's Story Room......until "Quigley Down Under" walked into the room, strapped a bracelet made of bells around his ankle, sat on a Drum Box and blew into his instrument....you know.....the Didgeridoo. Now, let me insert right here, that I was fully prepared to be slightly bored - I mean, how interesting can a tubular instrument with no slides, no keys, no strings be? Just a long series of Johnny One Note, right?
How wrong I was.....First the drone started - then the split tones, and finally the rhythm and percussive force of his breath.... I was done for! (Like I said.....he looked like Russel Crowe!) It was pure electricity (The music, I mean.....I am a married woman, after all - AND, I was in the company of my daughters!). It was all I could do to stay in my seat - My feet and spirit wanted to dance - to join in the primal, rich, wanton beat. It sounded like Primordial Ooze, and campfire on a starry night, and antiquity. This was music to be heard with ear, heart and soul - and it spoke to the Wild Celtic Ancestors that reside in my person. It was pure, and organic, and liberating.
Sadly, this was not a long concert - it was a workshop, after all, and before we knew it, we were lining up to get our "student instruments" - a piece of pvc pipe, and a strip of masking tape (to ensure the sanitation of the "mouthpiece" - otherwise known as one end of the pipe). I am proud to say, that the Kennedy girls were the star pupils. I may have had an unfair advantage, because playing the Didgeridoo requires the same mouth positioning and breath as the Trumpet - which I played for most of my school years.) We laughed and laughed as we tried to coax "The. Sound." from the PVC, and giggled with pleasure and embarrassment, when we were asked to demonstrate our superior sounds to the group. The hour ended all too soon, and we were loathe to leave. We made of ourselves vocal Didgeridoos, droning the tunes and rhythms as we exited the Library, hand in hand - our high spirits leaking out, and made audible. What an amazing adventure, tucked into a little quiet corner, of our bland little town....On this out-of-the-ordinary Monday night, we Kennedy women will sleep with a smile on our lips, an aboriginal song in our hearts, and this unanswered question in our brains...."Where DOES one buy a Didgeridoo download"?!
Monday, July 1, 2013
Faces of Adventure and Blessing...
It has been quite a week. I sent baby AND babiest girl thousands of miles away - to a tropical paradise to do the Lords' work.... It was Vacation Bible School, I celebrated 25 years of wedded bliss, I hiked 2.7 miles on a mountain trail full of felled trees, roots, hills and boulders to scale....I hit the 45 pound lost mark, AND I crossed my legs.....did you get that last one? I crossed my legs.... for the first time in YEARS! (I will not again mention the wretched hair butchering I received at the hands of the befuddled beauty school student). That's alot of big things to pack into 8 days...Which is, at first, what I attributed "that feeling" to. For the entirety of my life, I have gotten "those feelings". My sister has them....my Mother had them too. It's a Celtic thing, I think.....that ability to "know" when something bad is going to happen...a "knowing" when bad things are happening miles away, at that very moment....sometimes knowing exactly what is going to happen, minutes, even hours before they do....it used to freak me out, as a child - take for example the Sunday afternoon when the phone rang - as it was ringing I said to my Mother - "Dad has been in a terrible wreck"....my Mom answered the phone, and the police officer on the other end of the line repeated those very words...or the time when, newly married, I woke from a dead sleep screaming "Oh no....we have to help them....the accident, the accident".....only to have a moment of silence followed by one crash, then another, then another. John and I jumped out of bed, ran outside, and saw a scene of carnage and mangled metal. We spent the next hour putting blankets on the injured, and holding car doors, while firemen used the jaws of life to free a dead man.....All of this is to say, that I NEVER take "Those feelings" for granted.
They started the day before we put the girls on the plane. They continued - day and night - while singing Moses songs at VBS, while hiking in the Mountains, as I cooked 55 chicken breasts for Soft Taco Night - waking or sleeping, they were never very far away. I am sure "these feelings" were responsible for my loosing 5 pounds in the same number of days - I couldn't eat. When they would hit - I would pray...calling each family member by name - praying a hedge of protection around each and every one....I prayed more this past week I think, than I have in the last year....Yesterday, as we got in the car - College Boy, John and I - to head for Raleigh to pick the girls up, I prayed once more for safety for this last leg of our time apart. At the Airport, as I searched the faces of the departing passengers, I felt the most immense relief - such a surge of love and thanksgiving as I saw one, then the other.....the faces of my beautiful daughters - exhausted faces - bug bitten and joyous....faces that bore the mark of adventure and blessing. As we embraced - all five Kennedys together and whole, I breathed a sigh of relief and a breath of a prayer....."Thank You".
Bags were gathered, goodbyes were said, Waffle House was visited, bellies and hearts were filled. We found ourselves on the highway - pointed for home....at 2:00 in the morning. I checked my watch - should be home by 3:30. Once there, if I hugged the kids, and let the dog out, I figured I could be in bed by 3:45.....a.m. We chattered and laughed for the first 10 minutes of the drive, but one by one, each child quieted, and soon the car was filled with the soft, regular breathing of sleeping teenagers. John and I talked for a bit more, listened to music....and then, the struggle began. You know.....that fighting with your body - the one where your body says "I've been awake for almost 24 hours....I. Must. Sleep.", and you reply "No...not quite yet....we have to stay awake a little longer". Despite my best efforts, my head started to nod......for 30 miles or so, I would fall asleep, then startle myself awake - and repeat the same phrase "How are you doing honey?"....His reply? "Tired.....". We were within shooting range of home......just a few miles left on the highway before we could turn onto the exit ramp leading to our little town. And then it happened. I nodded off again.....and so did John. We awoke at the same instant - to a car speeding down the edge of the grassy median....I am amazed by our calm....by Johns steady hand at the wheel, as he slowed the car and guided the car back onto the highway.....silence.....I stated the obvious...."You ran off the road"......."I know", he replied.
We woke in the comfort of our bed this morning at 11:15. John looked at me...."We almost died". "I know", I replied. For us, this could have been a repeat tragedy. Years ago, Johns oldest Sister died, when their Mother fell asleep at the wheel - 3 year old John was thrown onto the highway , out the back window of the VW bug - his middle sister and Mother seriously injured. I recalled my week
long petition for a hedge of protection - for a divine covering.....my Celtic Feeling of impending doom....little did I know that the danger would be on the happy side of the week, as we were all reunited. Thanks be to God, for the Guardian Angels that were with us last night, for John's calm and steady hand, for disaster averted....I am humbled and heartened by the knowledge of Prayer heard and answered. As we sit down to our supper tonight - each precious face will be that much more so.....each laugh will sound brighter, the food will taste a little better....the prayer of blessing on our lips will be that much more heartfelt.....Thanks be to God.
They started the day before we put the girls on the plane. They continued - day and night - while singing Moses songs at VBS, while hiking in the Mountains, as I cooked 55 chicken breasts for Soft Taco Night - waking or sleeping, they were never very far away. I am sure "these feelings" were responsible for my loosing 5 pounds in the same number of days - I couldn't eat. When they would hit - I would pray...calling each family member by name - praying a hedge of protection around each and every one....I prayed more this past week I think, than I have in the last year....Yesterday, as we got in the car - College Boy, John and I - to head for Raleigh to pick the girls up, I prayed once more for safety for this last leg of our time apart. At the Airport, as I searched the faces of the departing passengers, I felt the most immense relief - such a surge of love and thanksgiving as I saw one, then the other.....the faces of my beautiful daughters - exhausted faces - bug bitten and joyous....faces that bore the mark of adventure and blessing. As we embraced - all five Kennedys together and whole, I breathed a sigh of relief and a breath of a prayer....."Thank You".
Bags were gathered, goodbyes were said, Waffle House was visited, bellies and hearts were filled. We found ourselves on the highway - pointed for home....at 2:00 in the morning. I checked my watch - should be home by 3:30. Once there, if I hugged the kids, and let the dog out, I figured I could be in bed by 3:45.....a.m. We chattered and laughed for the first 10 minutes of the drive, but one by one, each child quieted, and soon the car was filled with the soft, regular breathing of sleeping teenagers. John and I talked for a bit more, listened to music....and then, the struggle began. You know.....that fighting with your body - the one where your body says "I've been awake for almost 24 hours....I. Must. Sleep.", and you reply "No...not quite yet....we have to stay awake a little longer". Despite my best efforts, my head started to nod......for 30 miles or so, I would fall asleep, then startle myself awake - and repeat the same phrase "How are you doing honey?"....His reply? "Tired.....". We were within shooting range of home......just a few miles left on the highway before we could turn onto the exit ramp leading to our little town. And then it happened. I nodded off again.....and so did John. We awoke at the same instant - to a car speeding down the edge of the grassy median....I am amazed by our calm....by Johns steady hand at the wheel, as he slowed the car and guided the car back onto the highway.....silence.....I stated the obvious...."You ran off the road"......."I know", he replied.
We woke in the comfort of our bed this morning at 11:15. John looked at me...."We almost died". "I know", I replied. For us, this could have been a repeat tragedy. Years ago, Johns oldest Sister died, when their Mother fell asleep at the wheel - 3 year old John was thrown onto the highway , out the back window of the VW bug - his middle sister and Mother seriously injured. I recalled my week
long petition for a hedge of protection - for a divine covering.....my Celtic Feeling of impending doom....little did I know that the danger would be on the happy side of the week, as we were all reunited. Thanks be to God, for the Guardian Angels that were with us last night, for John's calm and steady hand, for disaster averted....I am humbled and heartened by the knowledge of Prayer heard and answered. As we sit down to our supper tonight - each precious face will be that much more so.....each laugh will sound brighter, the food will taste a little better....the prayer of blessing on our lips will be that much more heartfelt.....Thanks be to God.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)