Getting started. Never finished.

Monthly Archives: January 2019

One of the things about having a birthday late in the year is that my brain tells me, “Oh, it’s 2019, you’re turning 48 this year.” By the time November rolls around, my brain has me convinced I have already been 48, so I must be turning 49.

So it doesn’t feel too early to start planning a by-the-end-of-my-50th-year bucket list. (I will think of a less morbid term.)

Play cello well. I have started. I had a realization that I had always wanted to do this, that I had picked up several instruments and still wanted to do this, and that there was no reason not to be doing this. I wrote “cello by 50” on my office whiteboard and rented a 3/4 cello. I still need a small scale, just like when I was 8 and we couldn’t locate one. I bought an electric soon after. I have great days when I can tackle some Shostakovich, and I have days when I wonder if I should have stuck with the Suzuki book. I have had a few lessons; neither my teacher nor I have great availability, and I have a perilous lack of music theory knowledge. I’ve just written to contact another teacher, in hopes of having a more regular schedule.

Take a class at Pilchuck.

Be in England for Guy Fawke’s Day in 2021… which happens to be my birthday.

On New Years Eve I was contacted by someone I had quite deliberately stepped away from. We had an intense friendship, and in one flash, I realized that it was intense because I was putting so much work into it, and it would always carry this dynamic, and it would never carry me.

In that flash, I lost every bit of intuition and hyper empathy I had. I felt it slink out of my cells, into the ground. I felt my eyes open. I can’t say that in that moment I learned to be kind to myself, but at least I had the first inkling of a self-protective boundary.

The contact came with enough vagueness that even while I strongly wanted to ignore it, that librarian urge to complete a question ran me over. Somehow my following up meant I was “such a little spark plug.”

No. If I know one thing, it’s that I am not here to fix you. My energy is not for you. I need it. I have a lot to repair. I listed it for you in a flat tone. I don’t think you listened. That’s okay. I’m not repeating this.