Without Words

I don’t know what I think half the time. I do, however, know how I feel most of the time, but that gauge of consciousness seems to be mouldable.  It takes the shape of my surroundings and is influenced by circumstance. To understand my thoughts I must put them to paper.  Without this tool my mind would be an insurmountable, cluttered mess.   

When I was little, if I ever was upset, bad and felt I need to apologize or needed to convey how much I cared, I would pull out paper and a pen, and in my best hand writing, dictate a note to my mom to slip under her door.  This was my means of communication; it was the monologue I wanted to say out loud but didn’t possess the words until they flowed through my pen.  This need to put a pen to paper to convey my thoughts is deeply rooted in who I am.  It in many ways defines me.   Through this, I sort through my ideas, my thoughts, worries and frustrations. Still true today; I don’t always express myself well at the drop of a hat. I know my heart needs to be deciphered and translated. But I take comfort in knowing that I am not the only human to feel this need.   

"I do not sit down at my desk to put into verse something that is already clear in my mind. If it were clear in my mind, I should have no incentive or need to write about it. We do not write in order to be understood; we write in order to understand." C. S. Lewis

“I write because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say.”  - Flannery O’Connor

foodforthought

Life sometimes forces us to face our fears and to look in the mirror and take a good hard look at yourself.  Soon we see the areas in which you struggle but never before have been named, so they remained ambiguous.   So these struggles we have put off facing now are staring right back at us and demanding that we address them.  Ie.  Those good long hard looks require a sufficient dose of reality need to be augmented with grace.   We are imperfect people.  

In a program in which you are constantly asked to examine your inner workings closely its a matter of time before personal revelations start to occur.  

So often in life we focus on what we don't have, or where we fall short.  This became apparent to me this week, when I stood in front of a professor I admire,  dumbfounded and struggling for words. She asked what I feel I do well in regards to singing.    I replied honestly, that three years ago I would have had a quick answer, "I sing a mean legato line, I can feel viscerally the music I sing which translates to a decent performance and my 'E' vowel is sublime."   These things over the last few years has disintegrated in the refining fire of my music education.  In a world where we only ever focus on areas of improvement, and places that need polishing, the corners of our talents now house all those things we "do well," and are currently collecting dust and are being forgotten.  As I struggled to find an up to date reply for this professors question, the health of my art form seemed to be threatened.    I've expressed my concern about this epidemic in the music world about the carrot on at the end of a stick, it is what motivates us and pulls us forward.    The desire from something unattainable becomes an obsession, and to fuel this sick love we focus ourselves on our areas of weakness.    This mentality in the long run serves in a strange, backwards way that will likely cause more harm than good.   We need to address the good and the bad, the strengths and the weaknesses together to be well rounded.  This musical journey has been fixed with these types of frustrations, and has provided insight into my weaknesses.

confession

After a failed attempt at a work out, I sat alone in a silent sauna sweating out my stress, and worry. As my restless mind slowly began to quiet I pressed forward in prayer, and prayed the words I’ve prayed a seemingly infinite number of times over my lifetime. I prayed quietly for direction and wisdom to know how to navigate life’s decisions, and demands.  Twenty minutes later I found myself surrounded by a cacophony of voices that swirled around me as I sat silently at the upright piano pressed against a white wall.   I couldn’t sing. But the practice rooms were a live with song.  Feeling heavy and overwhelmed by life, the voices I heard through those walls, each singing their unique song created soundtrack for my life in that moment.   The music didn’t make sense in the bigger picture, but upon a closer listen, and focusing on one song at a time, they created a beautiful piece of art.   There is an analogy in there somewhere.   

I gathered my will to go outside into the cold. I armed myself in my battle gear of a parka and gloves and then forced my feet out the doors.  As I walked I prayed, confessing my disorientation and humbly admitting I don’t know.  A few moments later I felt a still small voice reassure me… “ I know.”   

God lets us fall on our knees so we have no other choice but to look up.   He is our strength when we are weak, he is direction when we have none, and our purpose and hope when we feel purposeless or hopeless.  I forget sometime how invested He is in my life, and the lives of those I care about.   He wants to be apart of every single aspect, and beyond that he wants to be in control.  Sometimes very hard to relinquish control but that is when I think, our relationship makes the most sense.  

performance anxiety

Performance anxiety. 

My palms feel as though there is an electrical current flowing through them, sometimes they go tingly. I feel aware of my feet on solid ground and yet my mind feels as though it resides on a cloud.  I watch as the words I’m about to sing run through my head, and the anxious electrical current strikes my body like lightening.  The nervous energy I feel manifests itself in my breath and heart beat.  If I am not conscious of my breath, my breathing becomes shallow and rapid, while my heart rate accelerates to marathon speeds.  To combat this physical sense of panic pounding in my chest I focus on the rhythm of the air entering and escaping my lungs.  With each inhale the rhythm in my chest began to slow and slowly my mind begins to float to solid ground, and the racing thoughts slow to a walk.   I used the power of my breath to battle any nervous energy I felt prior to walking myself on stage,  to perform my minute long song.   As I settled in the center of the stage I still felt the threat of being knocked from my center by the pounding of my heart against my chest.  I took a slow breath in, exhaled and cleared by head of any worry.    This was not the time to reflect, or recap.   At this moment, it felt like bungee jumping backwards. I had to trust the free fall and the strength of the cord attached to my feet anchoring me to the stage.   That moment of “free falling” is the moment that ties my heartstrings to the extreme sport of performance.   I often forget why I subject myself to the anxiety and stress that comes hand in hand with preparation for placing myself on a stage.  But the gentle reminder of performing is one that I feel is equally as essential to the battle of performance anxiety, as deep breathing or feeling grounded.   Without purpose, why battle at all? 

transitions

Christmas has come and gone... the whirlwind has settled.   What is the most wonderful time of the year, is also the most busy and stressful.   Every year we try to do Christmas better, we buy presents in advance to avoid the chaotic christmas shoppers, we pre plan dinners, and deck the halls early.  But it doesn't seem to matter, there is always an element of frantic that envelopes the holidays.   I'm okay with that, because Christmas means that I am with my family and for a few short days all other worries dissipate and settle to the back of my mind.  



The harsh reality of "no longer Christmas"  began to set in as my fiance and I (yes Fiance!  My super cute man-friend proposed!!! best Christmas present ever!)...I digress...were driving through a world of white maneuvering the terrifyingly slick roads from BC to Alberta to start the new year officially    Noticing how the snow seemed to trace the outline of everything, the world was a winter play land.  For some reason when it snows in BC it seems cute now in comparison to Winnipeg, however this last snow storm has given Manitoba a run for its money.  

The drive, consisting of 2 bathroom breaks, 2 scratch cards, a box of Timbits and two coffees was the physicality of transitioning from home to-- not home.  I braced myself through out the drive as my mind transition from Christmas bliss in BC to second semester sensibility that I’ve become accustom to in Winnipeg.  This transition topped off with resolutions and goals for the New Year in addition to the plan to plan a wedding has both given me a sense of purpose and determination to survive another winter, all the while completely intimidating me.  

From the safety comfort and warmth of home, to the demanding, treacherous cold terrain of Winnipeg, I have to push forward towards a faceless goal.  I know am so blessed to have people in my life that love and support me, and make challenges in life manageable.  Despite a less than easy ease into the semester, I'm hopeful for a happy, healthy, productive, purposeful semester. Prayers, encouragement, and hugs are always welcome.

such a long distance

It's crazy that in 2 hours you can be hours away from me, and that the distance between us can feel overwhelming. We live in an age when people argue that the world is smaller, but separation...is separation. Sure, technology has softened the blow through tools like Skype and FaceTime but the reality is that these tools also make the gap between us excruciating by giving us 2/3s of a relationship.   

Goodbyes lately feel more like open heart surgery. Call me melodramatic but truthfully I never thought that long distance could hurt so much.  So as you fly farther away from me, back to reality as you call it, I sit here, where we sat and feel a growing vacancy, and the amount that I miss you, surpasses my expectation.   

Give a little

What is it about twinkle lights, old christmas carols, and green garlands that invite a sense of peace and comfort.  Is it just nostalgia?   Or do these things together equate a magical reaction within our subconscious?
This time of year, as exams approach, final projects come to a close, the end of semester is anticipated with a sense of desperate intensity.  The magic of Christmas is imagined as, sitting beside a fire, knowing the ones you love are near by.  It is a time of year that seems to move in slow motion, at least in my memories.   The memories of laughing by a lit fire in the glow of the christmas tree, singing songs and visiting with those dearest to my heart makes the wait almost painful.   With provinces separating me from my loved ones, the autonomy I feel is magnified in this barren land.

Students come together during this time of year to present their watered down offerings of christmas, the sort of filler feelings that will substitute for the real thing for another few weeks.   Despite the fact that I want to be home now, I need to remember to appreciate the little family I have here, the people that I see on a daily basis, that I have grown to care about deeply.   I suggest that this holiday season we invest in relationships and people that don't have to legally love us. The people that come into our lives might need an extra dose of compassion and care.   As our world spins and stirs and heartache seems to lurks around too many corners, let us instil in the world a love and care for one another that is so desperately needed.  To augment the trauma and trials that overwhelm our world, let's choose to bless those we meet, by giving freely an extra big smile, or a welcoming hug, or even simply holding a door.   Those are gifts that everyone is able to give, and gifts that put back into humanity a sense of brotherhood essential to our world's vitality.