Lots of chuckling in the labyrinth this morning as I write Title after Title for this blog, catch myself, laugh and go back to being in the moment and then noticing that AGAIN I’m writing a new Title.
I can’t remember a single one of those “brilliant” titles now, which is great, because of course that’s really not the point of walking the labyrinth.
In between the title writing, I heard Brahms. Each day, as I’ve walked the labyrinth this last week, I’ve had a different Brahms phrase repeating in my head. Today’s was from the glorious 5th movement with the soprano soloist (sung by the incomparable Lisa Vroman!). I was singing Ich will euch trösten, wie einen seine Mutter tröstet, which translates to: As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you. The musical line there is so comforting, soft and shimmery.
I’m laughing at how disjointed I feel trying to write this blog this morning, and yet, it’s exactly how my thoughts were running in the labyrinth. Could be an indication of how the day is going to be, or it could just be that right here, right now, I’m highly distractable. It’s all good.
In the midst of writing, I have been stopping and attending to other things, starting and stopping, starting and stopping. Am I finishing those other things? Sometimes. I did manage to eat breakfast, take a shower, walk the labyrinth, but in fits and starts. And clearly I have judgments about doing things in fits and starts, because I’m feeling completely uncomfortable about the whole process.
Is this an upper limit from the incredible Brahms experience? Entirely possible. Or maybe just a result of having fully immersed myself in Brahms and now having to come back to this other version of reality. This other version of who I am. Last week I was a singer, a part in a magical, musical experience. I got to give myself over the the music each night, with the electric energy of the audience to loop with, making the experience even more vast.
And now, I’m mom again, mom who has to figure out what the heck to do to motivate her self. Mom, who’s got animals and humans to feed and a house to keep clean. Errands to run, bills to pay, tax questions to answer, all those seemingly mundane things that keep life moving.
I’m great at starting things, I have good ideas and I love to initiate. But maintaining things is tougher for me. I get bored, want to move on to other things. It’s funny, some routines are set. Each morning, I have a set routine for how I take a shower, take care of my skin and teeth and hair, get dressed. I have things set up in my car so that I have everything to hand (kleenex, hand lotion, nail file, cough drops, emergency things like an ace bandage, arnica gel and homeopathic pills, bandaids, etc. My purse is a mini version of that, so I don’t have to think when I head out. I’ve already thought of those things.
But, what’s for lunch? What’s for dinner? I have no idea. I haven’t wanted to cook in quite some time, so we’re eating out a lot. I’m wasting less food, in that I’m not buying lots of fruits and veggies and then composting them. But we’re eating crap.
How did I get here? Writing about this? See what I mean about distractability? My monkey mind is jumping all over the place.
So, I’ll be laughing quietly to myself, whispering, “breathe here now” over and over again today it looks like. Or, at any rate, that’s what this very moment looks like. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves now, shall we? That is where I started! I’m so funny.
Love, love, love to my distractable selves, all of them!
