Just a Moment

Life is so busy, everyone is busy, and tired. The kids aren’t bad, they are just tired. I’m not insane, I’m just busy. I relaxed this weekend at the countryhouse. All by myself on Friday night, except for Mandy who kept me good company and layed at my feet while I played my guitar. I think she’s my first fan. I bought the Hal Leonard book for my lessons with Roger Stone. We start on September 10. Roger said, “get it and read it so you know what things are. I don’t want to be calling things a thingy.” I think I will like Roger.

I actually went through a few of the early lessons and was reading music right away. How cool is that. My fingers are caloused. I’m almost there.

And, Mandy is fat. My sister pointed it out on Saturday. It’s the peanut butter in the kong trick every morning. I am making my dog fat. She’s even taken up snoring. Sounds like a small bear in the room. Tomorrow there will be banana in the kong with a smidgeon of peanut butter. Can’t go cold turkey, which is what I’ll need to do this week, perhaps.

 I woke this morning to the sounds of church chimes. Amazing grace or something similar. After coffee I rushed back to pick up the kids from their two night camping trip. I don’t understand why I just get the passing “hi Mom” with no wraparound hugs after two nights away. Their Dad gets them everytime. I do get them, however, when I pick them up at the sitter, so I’m still getting some. I think they just expect I’ll be back. I guess that’s what being a Mom is all about. Reliable, comforting, expected.

We went to the ACed Discovery Centre. The best idea on a hot day. I learned to mirror write, boy is that f*cked up.

 My sister and Mother are down the country for the week. My Mother is in one of her distracted, one-track-mind bubbles. Asking us questions, not listening to the answer and then asking again 10 minutes later. I don’t envy my sister. She’s going to need lots of Baileys to make it through I think. I don’t think there is anything wrong with my Mother, she’s just got a lot on her mind and she lives in a world where the sky is sometimes a slightly different colour. But, she’s a happy soul and she smiles a lot and she’s kind-hearted and I love her. Stay solid sister!

Pushing something too hard creates tension and resistance. Letting the flow of life fill you creates moments that wrap you in beautiful memories that are all yours and cannot be stripped away.

It was a good weekend, with beautiful memories.

Adam came with me today. The countdown was on. Fifteen minutes to Buckley’s. He was ready. I was set. Off we went. My intention was to just touch and feel, not actually buy. But I knew I would. I knew once I felt it and heard it, I would buy it. Got a case and a stand, some extra strings and some pics. It sounds nice, or it did when it was in tune. There’s a cool spot on the internet that helps you tune it. I got it right once. Now I’m just tone deaf from listening to an out-of-tune guitar.

My first song to learn was going to be patience by GNR. I think I need to just get some patience. My fingers hurt. The left hand is numb at the tips. Maybe I’ll get the action turned down a bit. And, it came with this humidifier. I’ll let you know when I figure that one out. Doesn’t seem to fit anywhere. “There’s instructions in the bag,” James said.  There were, but they were for how to fill it with water, not how to get the damm thing in the guitar.

I’ll figure it out. I already love it. I can put a few chords together and it sounds ok. Try by Blue Rodeo sounded something like it. I’m impressed. I’ll keep going. Keep strumming. Raging on my strings till I get it. There’s no one here to laugh at me so I’m all set. Who would laugh at someone who wanted to do something cool like playing the guitar anyway? That’s just odd and childish, I think. Well actually, I think it’s fear. But, I guess there are people like that. I’m sure my family will have lots of hysterical laughs at me, when I f*uck up. But you don’t pick your family. Well, you do actually, but you do it before you are born, so it doesn’t count. You can’t be held accountable for how they turned out…haha! Gotcha!

Last night was magical. The country, oh the country. By the water with people who love me no matter what. No matter how long I make them walk to neutralize the buzz. Singing and laughing and talking and sharing. Just a country celebration. The band’s singer had to leave so Katie and I filled in. Now, I’m hit or miss, but Katie is right on. What a beautiful voice. I’m going to buy a guitar tomorrow. Well, at least look and touch one. Katie says she’s ready for next summer when the hill will be alive with the sound of music. You’re welcome to drop down to listen and sing along. There’s lots of room for a tent and plenty of B&Bs around.

I know there is video out there somewhere (Michael). Let’s keep that to ourselves, OK?

I had my tarot cards read at the flea market. Seems I need to let something go. Something that has haunted me a long time. A secret. It was a difficult reading for the nice lady with the pretty eyes. She saw conflict and ruin, the complete loss of something I care about, which will force a new beginning. She also saw my dreams and some magic to lead me through a difficult time. All this and an eagle outcome, which is comforting. I know exactly what it meant, but it’s a secret, remember?

I’m ready to let go and remove myself from this space between two comforts.

Work was actually exciting this week. A nice change from the dreary unmotivated cage. I was pulled into a project that didn’t really have a vision, just deliverables. I quickly scoured the big picture and wrapped some structure around a massive tree with branches reaching to the sky. I pulled it off in the nick of time. It was exciting and rewarding. Fun, really. I love a project, especially ones that need vision. That’s where I shine.

Now I’m well behind schedule on my to-do list. But the next few days will find me writing and thinking and planning and that’s ok, I like that. I’m busy and it feels good. I’m a bee. Not a drone of course, a worker or perhaps the queen. I wonder what the winter will bring when the drones leave the hive, spent and useless. Space, I hope. Space to create from scratch, to build something new and exciting that gives birth to new honey that’s all mine.

But where to start. Develop the characters? Find a story line, the perfect ending or beginning? Or just let it happen. I recently attended a 4 day writing and yoga retreat at the Tatamagouche Centre. It was here I learned that my meditative state of writing is what makes stories fall from your fingertips to the page without your head actively involved, just passively pushing the buttons so that every line conjures up the next great darling.

I so enjoy writing and just letting it flow. For four days I was immersed with like-minded and talented individuals who share a common purpose and passion:  to tell their soul’s story one line at a time. Beautiful metaphors exploding into bursts of heartfelt connections with another soul. Sparks scorching the surface and burning deep within, leaving a mark. Tattoos on the soul. Inking yourself into another. It’s about the connection, after-all. We are all here to make connections. To pour ourselves into another human being. And it’s reciprocal, I love that about life.

Chapter 1…