I’m still alive

This is basically just me popping in for the sake of popping in, and letting anyone who may be following this blog know that it has not been abandoned.

I finally finished acting as “producer” for the RPM Challenge project I mentioned.  I noticed a post a few days ago with someone asking what participants planned to do when they finished their albums.  Some people were planning on going out to eat, others were simply planning on sleeping or cleaning house for the first time in a few weeks.  I found it strange that I wasn’t coming up with any plans of my own, but apparently my body came up with one for me – I’m somewhat sick.

Normally that would depress me, especially since it’s the fourth time in five months, which is unheard of for me, but I took this as a very clear signal that I am exhausted and in need of some renewal.  I have been sensing a period of initiation or great change coming on for a while now, and it seems that becoming slightly ill is giving me the space to actually go into that process.  It’s amazing what happens sometimes if you have a few quiet hours alone.  I’m not feeling called to go into detail, but suffice it to say that good, if challenging, things are on the horizon.

Rebellion and Ergonomics

I’ve been working pretty hard lately.  Promotions have taken up a lot of my time, as have practicing lomilomi and a host of other things.  Friday I felt myself beginning to rebel.

I’d just been working too much, too long, too hard, and the fact that I wasn’t really seeing commensurate results was really making the whole thing exhausting.  I finally got my body straightened out on Wednesday – I needed a massage very badly indeed – but my brain and my spirit were still balking at my overall workload.  So I pushed forward through yesterday afternoon, after which I still had things to do but nothing that absolutely had to be done right this second.   So I spent the night alternating between watching Complaints Choirs on YouTube and reading The Da Vinci Code.  (I don’t normally read much fiction but this was a gift from a dear friend.)  I don’t think I’d done a reading marathon like that in at least half a year.  It was a much-needed break.

Today my morning was pretty much spoken for before it started; I was headed to church and then had a few errands to run.  I’ve done a lot of work (errands, studying, things along those lines) today again but the good news is I got almost all the critical stuff on my list accomplished before 9pm, and there’s also been some time just for creative and enjoyable things – more reading, practicing Native American flute and violin, hugging the cat.  So I think the tide is turning; while I don’t expect to run out of work/errands to do anytime soon, it seems like there’s a little more room for me in all of this mess all of a sudden.

Following my massage Wednesday I was pain-free for the first time in a few days, and I’ve started relaxing enough to remember how to play the violin without clamping it like a vise under my chin.  I adjusted my desktop computer setup so it’s a bit easier to manage, but I still don’t find it a cozy place to sit.  I’ve been trying to stay away from it, which I think has actually helped me find something else I need – it’s too soon as of yet to tell whether it’s time that was previously being eaten up by surfing for info or whether it’s just the feeling of not being tied to this box constantly – being free.  All I know is it feels better.

Well, since I still have a couple of hours before bedtime, I think it’s a good time to go practice another instrument and enjoy myself.

I might be a bit quiet for a while…

…or I might not.  It all depends on how my body is feeling.

My beloved massage therapist’s departure for New Mexico last month left me without a bodywork provider.  If you’re sitting there making fun of me, I invite you to stop!  Not everyone feels a strong need for bodywork but imagine this.  You are…

• over six feet tall, living in a world full of spaces and objects designed for people nearly a foot shorter than yourself.  This means nothing is supportive to your back and you feel cramped almost everywhere you go.
• a professional bodyworker yourself.  You are forever kneading and thumbing and rubbing and lifting and kneeling and standing and balancing…in short, you are running yourself ragged relaxing other people, and are therefore just plain tired.
• on the computer CONSTANTLY…in an ergonomic situation that all too easily goes way out of whack.
• doing weight training.  Enough said.
• playing a ton of different musical instruments, some of which you have been well trained in and others of which you’ve had to simply teach yourself from books.  (My new-to-me, insane-bargain-on-eBay, used violin arrived last night, but I don’t dare play it too much yet.  I haven’t picked one up in six years and while I can actually make it sound pretty good already, I can feel my shoulder girdle locking up trying to keep it in place, so I need to either read up on my ergonomics or somehow get lessons to refresh my memory.)

This is someone who needs a bodyworker regularly. Until I can manage that again, the easiest factor to limit (I think) is computer time, so I might not write quite as frequently as I have been until I find some more support for my poor body.  But I will definitely be back, still fairly often, so don’t move that bookmark!

A break for rhythm

You might already have gathered that the activity level in my life strongly resembles a 5-ring circus featuring rabid elephants, but every now and then even I break away. One of the few things that makes me put down my whip, chair, and rabies release form for the audience is TaKeTiNa, a practice that allows participants to learn on multiple levels simultaneously – about rhythm, learning, and being in the world.

On the observable level, we’re creating polyrhythms with our feet, hands, and voices. We begin by grounding into the space and becoming still in a circle. We gradually begin speaking a mantra of meaningless syllables, for example ta ke ti na, ta ke ti na, ta ke ti na…gradually a surdo (drum) joins in to reinforce the beat and a pattern of footsteps is superimposed on the syllables. This is followed by clapping or the use of a caxixi (rattle), and finally the syllables are replaced by the use of call-and-response speaking and singing of other syllables (which have no more meaning than the originals). Sound like a brainteaser? It’s not. Try to use your brain on this much at all and you’ll be totally exhausted and frustrated. The point is to leave the mind out of it – go out of your mind and get into your body for a while.

What’s the point of stepping and clapping and chattering out meaningless syllables for three days, you may wonder? Well, the most obvious benefit is for the musician who learns constructive new ways to be with rhythm. The lessons about the learning process – learning to identify and honor our own needs and pace as learners, and to be patient and gentle with ourselves, no matter what the voices in our heads tell us about it all – are applicable to everyone. And there’s another level too.

Whatever the patterns are that hold a person back, they are very likely to show up at some point during a TaKeTiNa workshop. If you listen to those destructive voices too much, they’re going to show up. If you never take time to rest, that will show up. If you are a perfectionist, a people-pleaser, or an inveterate caretaker of everything and everybody, it will show up. And the great part is it’s all okay…no, really. It’s seriously okay.

Losing the rhythm is fine. Making a “mistake” is great. Getting totally confused is wonderful. In fact, if you’re like me and find it relatively easy to train your body to step in five, clap in four, and speak in heaven-only-knows-what simultaneously…you need to get creative and deliberately get out of the beat. Leaving the beat, coming back…getting it, not getting it, getting it back…knowing what you’re supposed to do and not being able to do it…not having any clue what you’re supposed to be doing but somehow discovering that your body is doing it anyway! It all happens and it’s all great, because (a) absolutely everyone is in a learning process with their own struggles and has excellent grounds to relate, and (b) you’re in a high-acceptance, zero-pressure zone where it’s okay both to have challenges and to experiment with different ways of meeting them.

I may soon be writing on the more personal level about what I got out of this weekend, but if you want to know more already about just what this TaKeTiNa stuff is all about and what chances you can have to try it out, try these links: for more information on TaKeTiNa, visit http://www.taketina.com/engl/main_n.htm. For information on the weekly Palo Alto practice groups and Bay Area workshops, visit http://villageheartbeat.com/taketina.html.

Pearl Jam and black jeans

Part of the reason for my push to focus on creativity these days is to rocket my posterior out of the blahs and into a more enjoyable, productive mode of living.  In truth, the blahs were more than simple blahs; I’ve been recovering recently from multiple significant losses.  I lost both a day job and something else that’s hard to define; I suppose you could call it the end of an era.  Both losses, however, shut me down in very critical areas of life, and re-emerging in those areas means a sort of rebirth, which is most certainly a creative act; sometimes a bit like composing a crucial leitmotif while walking the high wire.

Tomorrow I go on yet another job interview; two, depending on how you define “interview.”  (One is basically me responding to someone’s informal suggestion that I come to her massage studio and have a look around and talk with her when I have a few moments downtown.)  All this is happening on a day when I’m going to get oiled up doing another lomilomi (Hawaiian sacred bodywork) practice session…and you know, this is simply my life.  It occurred to me, yes, I could take along my customary dress slacks and  silk blouse to change into after doing the bodywork session, but half the reason I applied for the job in question is because the people there sound as if they’re very much like me; it’s a coop specializing in sustainable transportation and helping people live off the grid, and I can scarcely imagine that they’re all wandering around wearing Gucci pumps and Coach ascots.  And so, I thought, might it be acceptable to simply show the more ornate side of my customary casual look?  Why not wear something that looks like me?  Why not pair my new favorite purple silk brocade top with my purple suede shirt/jacket?  And while we’re going a bit on the rugged side with suede, why not wear my very nice new black jeans?

A voice in my head is telling me I have finally lost my mind.  “You’re going to wear jeans to a job interview?  WHAT???”

But another voice popped in.  “This is not the kind of place that pays big bucks.  The only reason to even consider working for a place like this is to be yourself, doing work that matters, dealing with other people who also live in the real world.  If they would seriously look at the fabric of which my pants are made with a more critical eye than the substance of my resume and interview, that’s the first sign I don’t belong there.  And for all I know, they might feel a little intimidated or alienated if I came in dressed to the nines; do they, after all, have anything in common with someone who might possibly be that into appearances?”  Yes, the only reason to take a job like we’ll be discussing would be to be myself and deal with reality; they might as well see the real me from day one so that there aren’t any extraneous illusions to cut through later.

Meanwhile I even find scrounging up these comparatively comfortable and festive clothes fairly blah…I just don’t enjoy the whole wardrobe “thing” the way I did in earlier periods of my life…and so I decided I needed some musical inspiration.  It came to me that I hadn’t listened to a Pearl Jam CD in a while; I’ve listened to the few tunes I’ve uploaded to iTunes, but that’s less than fifteen songs in all and it’s not the same experience.  So I popped Dissident into the CD drive.

…What are these tears in my eyes?…Oh, this is why I haven’t listened to the CDs in at least a few weeks…they remind me of times I miss.  Times I consider happier than the current one…going to Hawai’i…taking on my new name…dancing with one of my best friends, who’s gone through such changes that I nearly fear he might be hard to recognize before much longer…performing at a music venue which, a few months later, doesn’t even exist anymore…

I’ve held off on a lot of things since the final curtain of that era in my life came crashing down one chilly Saturday morning.  They’re basic things; the music I love…dancing…the path of growth around my femininity…just letting myself feel good without holding back for fear of loss.  So what, then, is the creative way to walk back onto the stage when the act you most loved playing a part in has finally come to a close?  I don’t know…but I think even if I can never listen to Ten without crying again, I’ll still turn it on.