twenty extra minutes uphill, but it didn’t feel like it because of Dire Straits and Jake Coco. In fact, my wings carried me up that hill in time with the music, and then I was soaring high high above everything where the horizon is curved, warm sun on my back.
My theory is this: I’m invisible if I close my eyes when I’m working out. In this way I have discreetly walked ten miles every week for the past month, flown up countless hills, memorized lyrics to twenty excellent songs, and arranged ten more for cello and voice. I truly never thought I’d say this, but I do love my little green iPod with all my heart, just for making this such a rich journey. And for being tiny.
I have no profound thoughts to offer, since I’m in transition from task to task today, but I’m aiming for objectivity this weekend after tomorrow’s supremely enriching Sistema Teacher workshop in Toronto. When I’m done there my iPod and I shall drive and drive, and the parts of my brain that have become strapped in too tightly by all of this striving and slogging will loosen their ties, let down their hair and begin to dance again in the big expanse of Road Trip, where the horizon is curved. Somewhere in the middle of this walkabout I will find Profound, and Articulate, and craft something here…
But for now I will leave you with a beautiful thing crafted by Annie Dillard. I’ve been chewing on this ever since I read it two weeks ago. She writes things that just keep coming back to you…..
A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days. It is scaffolding on which a worker can stand and labor with both hands at sections of time…. It is a lifeboat on which you find yourself, decades later, still living
Happy first week of March 2014, everyone.