24 Hours Is Ridiculous
I used to feel like I got everything done and then I would sit down and blog a storm. Nowadays, it's, "How much more can I get done before 10:30?" There is no way 24 hours is enough, but it's all we've got. I try to make the most of it, but I find that music is slipping away from me, falling off the cart I'm riding.
The other night, I had the most splendid experience. I went out with my skis and boots on, and my daughter showed me how to ski. She is amazing. So tiny, I've never seen her as confident as when she is on her skis. She knew exactly what I needed to do, and remembered everything she was ever taught about ski-ing. She is my little Picaboo-boo. I cannot wait to really learn so that I can be out there with her and with my son.
So I am busy, increasingly challenged at work and having a good time with my kids, but I miss music. I was writing to a friend tonight and told him I realized that in the last couple of months, I've all but fallen off my path toward my dreams. Even some things my sister has said call attention to this shift. I'm consumed by just getting through the days, which are rich and full of good things but exhausting. And there's always something around the corner.
Tonight I offered to my daughter that next time she's around, if she wants she can stay home with her brother and play instead of going to hear Sam Bush with Bill Evans at The Kent Stage (Jan. 26). But she said she wants to go to the concert. I hope we can all go and have a great time. And I hope it inspires me to get my head more back into the music and into the future.
Here's a little tune that I first heard on a John Hiatt album. It's called Memphis in the Meantime, and it's a lot of fun. It's a little bit about being stuck, or needing a fix, or just cutting a little bit loose so you can get yourself right. And it was recorded in Telluride, which has a bluegrass following that far exceeds that in my own backyard. And the skiing is, well, a lot better out there. No reason not to add a new hobby if it can mesh with an old one, right? And knowing my daughter, she'll be playing banjo-uke while coming down some big summit on one ski, that little powder hound. More power to her.
Maybe that's what I need to be about right now more than anything, and so the rest is soundtrack.
For now.
By the way, MARK YOUR CALENDARS for Appalachian Uprising #7, June 5-6-7 in Scottstown, OH. Sam Bush will be there, along with The Grascals, Bobby Osborne, Melvin Goins and Windy Mountain, and many more. Now I just need my son to teach me how to camp!
2 Comments:
If and when you step off that 24 hour carousel, your head can start to spin. It's still good to do it sometimes, just to find your land-legs again.
It's hard to make space for yourself in a time when everyone wants and needs you for themselves. But remember - life is shorter than you would ever believe (I've learned that this past year). Take those dreams out, dust them off and worm them into your 24 hours. I think one of my biggest fears is that I'll die and people will be at the funeral saying "Oh, what a shame, she never got a novel published - she got her dream." I want to be that person who lived her dreams and died with few regrets.
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