Friday, November 14, 2014
In The Moment
I just returned from my choir rehearsal. We have been working on Advent and Christmas music for the past month, and since the weather has now decided it is officially winter, I will write in a lovely, holiday red.
This has been an interesting week.
Nothing exceptional or unusual....yet, things feel a little different somehow.
To begin with, I haven't had one headache. This is unheard of. I don't typically get full blown migraines every week (when I'm lucky) but it is very normal for me to have a consistent, somewhat mild, yet unrelenting headache every single day. I can usually ease it by popping a couple over the counter migraine pills....but I can only imagine the damage pumping that much ibuprofen or acetaminophen into my system everyday has done to my stomach.
It can't be good.
Anyway, this new "diet" I am trying out seems to be really helping with the headaches. It could totally be a fluke, but it will be interesting to see as time goes on.
It sure is a lot of work being healthy though.
As if I didn't have enough trouble planning meals when I wasn't trying to eliminate any ingredients. Processed, pre-packaged food is EASY!
I'm attempting to keep anything that comes in a package/can/bag/whatever under 2 grams of sugar per serving.
That pretty much eliminates everything. ;)
Actually, it's not so bad. I am finding it to be a fun little challenge I am throwing at myself. Typically, I would say screw it in about 3-5 days....but considering I have been feeling so much better, I think this one might stick.
I had to play for a funeral today. It was for a man who was killed when his 4-wheeler flipped on him. I didn't know him, or any of the family members. (It was not at the church I work at.)
I am usually pretty darn steady at funerals. Since I typically have to play and sing at them, I have become pretty good at putting up my "wall" so I don't get over emotional. It's hard to sing when you are sobbing.
Playing for funerals is actually my favorite part of my job. I suppose that sounds morbid, but it is true.
I think one of the greatest comforts I can give a grieving family is beautiful music for their final farewell and tribute to their loved one.
It's hard to come up with the right words to say, or know how to act when a friend has lost someone they love.
I do love how it is just human instinct to bring food....since that has always been one thing that brings people together. I wonder if that is where the term "comfort food" originated? It would make sense to me.
I think music has that same power. It has the ability to convey thoughts and feelings through it's soothing melodies....and it wraps around us like gentle arms, embracing us, and giving us comfort.
I found myself wiping tear after tear as this man's family spoke of their love for him. All I could think about was how much I hurt for them...knowing that loss, wishing they didn't have to endure it....not yet. He obviously had so much living left to do.
His son spoke of how he had been his dad's little buddy from day one, and as he got older, he noticed that whenever they were in the truck driving, his dad never turned the radio on. He asked his dad why he did that, to which he replied that he never wanted to miss an opportunity for a conversation with his kids. The radio makes it easy to ignore each other. He wanted to spend that time together talking to each other.
My heart broke, knowing that this man, now a father himself, had lost his very best friend.
I wonder if that hour I spent watching this family grieve from my spot in the choir loft perhaps was part of the reason I am feeling a shift....a change taking place in me.
I spent the afternoon being ridiculously productive, and turned my disaster of an office at church into a completely organized space.
(This should last at least until....Dec. 26th)
While I was driving back to La Crosse for a rehearsal, it started to snow.
Snow globe, Charlie Brown, great big, perfect snow.
Giant snowflakes were falling from the sky, and it was magical. It had just started to get a little darker out, I had this lulling piano music playing in the car, and I had a few moments of pure, undiluted joy.
I wish those moments could be bottled....or stretched out, so you can just bask in the beauty of them.
I suppose that is the beauty of them. The fact that they are just moments.
Thursday night is when my church choir rehearses.
Even though I am typically the youngest person in attendance, you would swear I was the only adult, teaching a bunch of middle school kids.
Especially the men.
The Basses, to be exact.
They sit in the back row.....and they cause lots of trouble.
I should mention that my husband is one of them.
He is probably the worst of them all....and definitely the ringleader.
And when he isn't there, they act like little lost sheep.
He is the one who always raises his hand (I love that he raises his hand!) and asks questions. He is also the one who is too busy gabbing to even know what song we are on half the time.
But my very favorite part of the night (and you can bet that at some point in every rehearsal, this will, indeed, occur.) is when I look up, and see the entire back row's shoulders bopping up and down, and their heads bowed, because they are laughing (usually at something Mark does) and he is always in the middle of the bunch, wiping his eyes, because he is laughing so hard, he is crying.
Usually it's over something stupid, like they can't find their starting pitch, so they are all fishing around, and it crashes and burns, and they think that is hilarious. Often times, it is because they can't read notes and words (and rhythms) at the same time.
A couple weeks ago we were singing "Just As I Am."
The refrain ends "and I'm welcomed with open arms, praise God, just as I am."
Well, Mark slipped up and sang "and I'm welcomed with broken arms, praise God, just as I am."
It took about 10 minutes to get the choir re-focused after that one.
I am so glad he is in my choir. :)
So....back to this big paradigm shift I seem to be having.
It's weird, because it's something I always try to do...but am terrible at.
I have been feeling it little by little, but today it definitely took me by surprise.
I was finally living in the moment. TRULY living in the moment...and enjoying it. Not thinking about what I was going to do next....or rushing through anything.
Just simply being where I was, and being completely present and content.
I realize that sounds kind of cliche. Kind of the "good for you....those self help books have infiltrated your brain, and you have connected with your chi and should probably go light some incense and meditate while you are feeling so in tune with yourself."
But it wasn't like that. I didn't even feel like doing yoga. Or playing the sitar.
I felt....clear. In the head. Yep.
Whatever is going on with me (aka: I eat a lot of squash now?) has cleared my head. It seriously feels like someone gave my forehead a colonoscopy prep. (but in my forehead....you got that, right?)
And I didn't have to stay anywhere near a bathroom, or drink any gross whatever that stuff is that they give you. (I have heard stories...thank God I have not experienced the real deal yet.) I think I will stick with my happy little forehead cleanse.
So there you have it. I have no idea what is going on.
But I like it. :)
Hey....by the way. IT'S FRIDAY!!!
Tomorrow I will tell you about Mark's fancy air tube he added to his hockey/bike/alien helmet.
There are no words.......