To Live Is to Fly (Townes Van Zandt)

I am now apologizing to myself for not blogging in two weeks - I miss it when I allow myself to skip more than a few days, not to mention it's easy to forget what happened in the meantime. I confess to having been in Roly Poly Mode... and I'm trying hard to snap out of it - in coming up for air a bit, I realize what a blessed life I lead...

Yeah, the fact my mother died mid-July is one big, fat, f*cking sadness still weighing heavy on me - I expect it will be with me forever, even as the hits to the heart come further apart. I still can't predict my reaction when I think or talk about it - sometimes I am fine... others I am inconsolable... and I imagine that's "normal" (having done some research on the grief process)...

I am finally reconciling to the fact that life does indeed go on - I have memories of good times, lots of photos and a no-regrets feeling that most only dream of. I also have amazing family and friends to hold me up during this difficult time, as I try to find my way out of the stuck place - much to be thankful for:

~ a 3+ hour cathartic lunch with my dear friend M, who I hadn't seen since before I went up to Atlanta - she lost her mom this past February, and has helped trailblaze this unknown path for me...

~ our October book club meeting, for which we read Middlesex, a wonderful book that's been on my bedside table for over a year - combine the literary stimulation with the comfort of other BookSluts (our new official name for ourselves), and I'm in "died and gone to heaven" territory...

~ saw the movie Where the Wild Things Are with my husband and two sons (my daughter was out of town that weekend), at the urging of my "baby" (21-year-old E), who remembered me reading him the book when he was but a small child - the movie was extremely enjoyable, but viewing it flanked by "my boys" was tear- and goosebump-inducing...

~ experienced a quiet Halloween, staying home and passing out candy to almost 100 trick-or-treaters, the cutest of which was a young (one-year-old, maybe?) Asian boy on his father's shoulders, dressed in a Sumo wrestler costume - my dog stood in the doorway in equal parts joy and amazement at the parade of visitors...

~ my friend Judi asked if I wanted to hear John Irving speak at a bookstore function which, with the purchase of the ticket, provided an autographed copy of his newest book (below) - it was not only great to hang out with her one-on-one (we're usually in group gatherings), but a dream-come-true to see one of my favorite authors up-close-and-personal (he's warm, he's witty... and his reading of a key passage in the book took my breath away)...

~ I presented a service at church last Sunday, revolving around the book Life Is a Verb, tying it into my mom's illness and promoting the "what would you do if you only had 37 days to live?" philosophy - I wove in some wonderful poems, played some appropriate songs and received warm, and sometimes tearful, appreciation...

~ finally got together with my dear friend Kate, to walk the Labyrinth and catch up on each other's lives these last few months - she is a cherished friend, with whom I always pick up where I left off, which can never be taken for granted...

~ participated in a Religion and Poetry workshop at the church, where I had the opportunity to share favorite Ellen Bass and Jeffrey McDaniel selections - the ensuing discussion was thought-provoking as well...

~ I have been kicking *ss in the physical fitness department for the last month, attending a BodyWorks + Abs class at the gym twice a week, and walking the 3-mile route in my neighborhood four days - on the seventh day I rest... :-) My friend Mel has kept me good company a majority of the time, but she's been out of pocket the last few weeks for one reason or another, so I'm having to self-motivate, which is always a challenge - I miss her muchly... but I'm proud to say I've risen to it, and am thoroughly entrenched in addicted mode (my legs twitch to get on the road as soon as I get out of bed each morning!)...

~ my husband and I signed up for a wellness program with a local franchise of a national chain, and have been enjoying monthly massages (part-therapeutic, part-pampering), which we've turned into Date Night, segueing to dinner afterwards - it's nice to spend time with each other in a relaxed mood, away from the house...

Days, up and down they come
Like rain on a conga drum
Forget most, remember some
But don't turn none away.
Everything is not enough
And nothin' is to much to bear.
Where you been is good and gone
All you keep is the getting there.

Beautifully said, Townes... :-)

SONG: To Live Is to Fly by Townes Van Zandt

BOOK: Last Night in Twisted River by John Irving

POEM: Sweet Darkness by David Whyte

When your eyes are tired
the world is tired also.

When your vision has gone
no part of the world can find you.

Time to go into the dark
where the night has eyes
to recognize its own.

There you can be sure
you are not beyond love.

The dark will be your womb
tonight.

The night will give you a horizon
further than you can see.

You must learn one thing:
the world was made to be free in.

Give up all the other worlds
except the one to which you belong.

Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
to learn

anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive

is too small for you.

QUOTE: "I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work, the more I live. Life is no "brief candle" for me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for the moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations." ~ George Bernard Shaw

Stand (The Kennedys)

"It's in moments like these that memories are made" ~ my new friend Esther Golton

The following statement was uttered during a monsoon at 5:30 a.m., in which we were attempting to reattach the rainfly to our tent (which was breathing like the door in The Haunting of Hill House), re-stake the corners and reclaim even a few square feet of dry ground - it was right after I ran barefoot across a large field to the porta-potties and right before we decided to wake up my folk daughters (Megan and Becca) in the tent next door and bail to my house (20 minutes away) for a few blessed hours. We never lost our sense of humor - we continued to laugh, even when (or maybe because) we were living on fumes, minimal sleep and music overload...

But I digress... :-)

As I mentioned in my previous post, this past weekend was the South Florida Folk Festival - I am on corestaff and I must admit to more than a bit of selfishness, as I made sure I had jobs that could be accomplished before the festival began so I could enjoy the music. My tasks were to choose two judges for our songwriting competition (Esther was one), serve on the Artist Selection Committee (a full day of listening to 90 entries, narrowing down to 30, including the amazing Danny Schmidt) and compiling information/editing/proofreading the festival program - all missions accomplished (and not in that Iraq War kinda way), such that I could appreciate the fruits of the collective labor...

We were rusty after a two-year hurricane-imposed hiatus, not to mention reinventing the wheel by relocating to a different park, and the familiar processes of the county soon morphed into one flaming hoop after another of permits and inspections and fees - oh my!

All hardship was quickly forgotten in the set-up of our camp (affectionately termed Estrogen Row!) the Friday before (I learned I have a three-tent quota before my body protests), the first notes of music on the Flamingo Stage noon Saturday, the 1-2-3 punch of Danny followed by Nick Annis followed by John William Davis on the Gator Stage Sunday... and Brian's bread passed liberally throughout the 72 hours - the last notes of festival music for me were Esther's dulcimer and stunning voice, playing a few songs she knew I'd love (Dave Carter's Elvis Presley and Christine Kane's Overjoyed) followed by another few I requested (one of her originals and Danny's Happy All the Time... :-)

More memory moments:

~ Annie Wenz's energy and light... and the lovely moon with purple stone necklace she gave me...

~ Friday's hot pink sunset...

~ blue crab burritos, whose motto was "let us roll you a fat one"... :-)

~ Amy Carol Webb's new Welcome Home song...

~ Saturday's gorgeous weather...

~ Laurie and Dana's grins of joy...

~ Sunday's cold snap allowing me to don my favorite hat, which I never get to wear under normal Florida circumstances...

~ buying three of Christine's (from Friction Farm) scarves she crocheted for Rachel Bissex's White Light Fund, and gifting Megan with one (The Kennedys, her favorite!)...

~ meeting Esther, who I initially began an e-mail correspondence with in 2002 when I was booking Michael McNevin and she was with Whole Wheat Radio (an internet radio station in Talkeetna, Alaska she co-founded)... and appreciating the synchronicity that brought her to South Florida six years later so we could have conversations in real-time and I could finally see what a serene, beautiful and wise woman she is in person as well...

~ brainstorming upcoming Labyrinth Cafe match-ups from the talented array of festival performers...

~ beaming with pride seeing Nancy, volunteer coordinator extraordinaire, zip around the park in her yellow Beetle cart, making the puzzle fittings of 150 volunteers appear easy...

~ a foamy cappuccino and buttery croissant breakfast, served by John at his camping picnic table...

~ hanging, laughing and dishing with Melanie all weekend...

~ watching the audience fall in love with Zoe Lewis, and knowing I helped orchestrate her festival appearance...

~ a falafel with hummus and cucumber sauce...

~ hearing The Kennedys dedicate their set to John Stewart (the singer, not the comic) who died early Saturday morning, and realizing why a friend seemed melancholy all weekend...

~ Homestead cinnamon buns ("are you a biter or a peeler?") - enough said!

~ feeling honored when a different friend sobbed on my shoulder, 10 minutes into the songwriter competition, and said, "we did it... we really did it"...

~ late-night song circles, accompanied by sips of Dave's "apple pie", Jamison Irish Whisky and chai liqueur...

~ Mixed blessings: porta-potties with fresh toilet paper... and mirrors (who wants to see what they look like after three days of camping?!?)...

~ the lovely festival program in which, after hours of crossed-eyes, I still found one typo!

And you know... there may be more, but that's enough - we made mistakes, but we did many things right... and I'm already looking forward to next year... :-)

P.S. When Esther played for me Sunday night, she told me that after she discovered my blog mid-December (via Christine Kane's blog), she mentioned it to Jim and he added it to Whole Wheat Radio's RSS feed - I am beyond honored/pleased/surprised (wow)...

SONG: Stand by The Kennedys

BOOK: Hot Jams & Cold Showers : Scenes from the Kerrville Folk Festival by Dyanne Fry Cortez, David Amram (Foreword)

POEM: Solar by Thomas Centolella

On a gray day, when the sun
has been abducted, and it's chill
end-of-the-world weather,
I must be the sun.
I must be the one
to encourage the young
sidetracked physicist
working his father's cash register
to come up with a law of nature
that says brain waves can change
the dismal sky. I must be the one
to remind the ginger plant
not to rest on the reputation
of its pungent roots, but to unveil
those buttery tendrils from the other world.

When the sky is an iron lid
I must be the one to simmer
in the piquant juices of possibility,
though the ingredients are unknown
and the day begins with a yawn.
I must issue forth a warmth
without discrimination, and any guarantee
it will come back to me.

On a dark day I must be willing
to keep my disposition light,
I have to be at the very least
one stray intact ray
of local energy, one small
but critical fraction
of illumination. Even on a day
that doesn't look gray
but still lacks comfort or sense,
I have to be the sun,
I have to shine as if
sorry life itself depended on it.

I have to make all the difference.

QUOTE: "I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the whole community and as long as I live, it is my privilege to do for it whatever I can. I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work the more I live." ~ George Bernard Shaw