True Appreciation

  Succulents at the Madison Farmer's Market

Last week, we had the privilege of attending our daughter's birthday celebration at her Waldorf school. (She is a summer birthday, but celebrated by her class now.)

One of the things I appreciate most about the Waldorf schools is how they honor the rhythms of the year with such reverence and ritual.

As part of the celebration, my daughter sat in the front of the room, dressed in a crown and a cape. First her teacher told a story about her journey to be born. And then one by one, her classmates come forth, presented her with a hand-drawn card and said what they appreciated about her.

It was so sweet to watch each of them come up and present her with a card and say a few words of appreciation. 

There were many children who said simply "I'm glad you're in my class" or "you're one of my best friends." But a few were very thoughtful. One said, "you are very helpful." Another said, "I appreciate you because when you play like you're a bunny, you're a really cute bunny."

But several said this comment to my daughter:

"I'm glad you're alive."

I was almost in tears. It was such a simple acknowledgement. But so profoundly affirming.

I don't tell the people I care about that I'm glad they are alive nearly enough. I thank these wise first graders for the reminder to do so more often.

Tell me, who in your life are you so glad that they're alive?

Make Your World More Lovely

Have you seen this short film, "The Beckoning of Lovely"?

I loved Amy Krouse Rosenthal's Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life (and the fun way she left copies of her book for people to find).  I love her creativity, her sense of play, and the way that both of these create a world sparkling with possibilities. 

So much of what we create in the world — and how creative we can be — is based on how we open to wonder. And how willing we are to put those creative callings of our heart out into the world. 

As I think of it, how we are and what we create in the world comes down to how open we are. Period.

I love the idea that Amy has created the "Beckoning of Lovely" as an expanding film. Everyone is welcome to submit to the project. They are looking for submissions in these categories: 

 Music of all kinds / Bands/ Singer-Songwriters / Videos / Short films / Animation / Paintings / Drawings / Art / Illustration / True stories / Made-up stories / Poems/ Lists / Monologues / Plays / Dance / Inventions / Crafts / Photographs / Cell phone snapshots / Architecture / Design / Culinary creations / Journal pages / Collage / Sand castles /  Everything.

More details on the project and submitting are here. (Thanks to Cathy Z. for posting about this film on her blog.)

I'm committing to submitting something. Not sure what yet. But I'm open to the process of discovering what that is. (Would you like to play, too? If so, let me know!)

Tell me, what have you made? What do you want to make more lovely in your world today? 

You Are the Instrument

On Saturday, we went to the Dane County's Farmer's Market.  One of the first things we saw as we walked in was this man playing the drums and singing.

I stopped, in awe of his playing and his spontaneous singing. I carefully watched his hands, trying to decipher how he was creating this music.

When he learned that I had recently gotten bongo drums, he called me over. I hesitated, noticing that my old thinking returned for a moment — what about the crowds? my bad hair day? playing with someone who actually knows what he's doing? Thankfully, I ignored those old voices and walked in closer. 

He explained that the first thing to know about drumming is that you are the instrument, not the drum. 

If he wants to make a bass sound, he thinks "bass" and then hits his full hand in the center of the drum. To slap, he says "slap" to himself as he hits the drumhead with the top of his palm toward the side. And to make a tone, which is the same kind of hand placement and gesture as a slap, he simply thinks "tone" instead of slap.

By your thoughts, you control the sound of your instrument. It's a great metaphor for how we are in our lives. 

What tune are we creating out of the instrument of our life? How do we intentionally — or not  — make the music in our life?

He also talked to me how in Africa the drumming came from the women. That drumming can be very soft. And how drumming needs to be connected to your breath.

And then, then, he had me play with him. It was pure bliss. 

(Helpful, too. I learned I need to keep my right thumb up more.)

Through my work with Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way, I have come to see that I have been a shadow artist to musicians. This means that instead of honoring my desire to be musical in myself, I surround myself with people who are musicians instead. (I even married a talented jazz/blues guitarist.)  

Music has always been a passion — listening to it, dancing to it, singing it, copying the lyrics. As I child, I loved to make up songs (including lyrics about chopping lettuce or whatever else I thought of) on my grandparent's piano. I experienced recorder and piano as part of music classes. I sing loudly in the car when I'm alone. But for much of my 38 years I thought music was something only others were talented enough to do.  

But I'm starting to follow my inner song more and more. As I do, I am able to create new music — and new possibilities — in my life.

I mentioned in my last Inspired Writer newsletter that I had a breakthrough with music this summer. 

This week, I have my first bongo lesson. (Many thanks to my wonderful husband for the thoughtful birthday gift of these bongos and a lesson with a talented percussionist/drummer he plays with.)  I'm to bring a notebook, and I'm going to get homework, too. I can't begin to tell you how excited I am.

I'm curious to see what transformations open up for me as I begin to follow the beat of my heart more fully. 

 And I'm so thankful for all the support of the universe as I embark on this journey. I say it was no accident that I received this impromptu lesson on Saturday. Nor that later that day, as I listened to a four-man drum circle, a man came up to me and told me to not just tap my hands, but to move my feet, too. (Indeed dancing along was much more fun.) Nor that today, during my first Spiritual Mastery class, I got to use bongos in the drum circle.

I am not walking on this journey alone, and knowing I'm supported makes it easier for me to go toward the callings of my heart with childlike joy and freedom.

Tell me, how are you playing the instrument of your life? What beat is calling to you right now?

P.S. Have you seen the movie, The Visitor?  Part of what I so enjoyed about this movie is witnessing the main character's transformation as he takes up drumming.