time blurs by, and it's months since you've written, dusted behind the vases, or trimmed the unruly camellias in the back garden down. and every once in a while, it really hits you- how much time has scuttled by while you were worrying about all of the things you thought you may have been forgetting to remember- your son writes you a love note full of big boy words, your grandmother smiles and you see just how many years have accumulated in the translucent wrinkles of her face, or (and for me, today, this was an epiphany) you make salsa and then commence weeping because it's been over a decade since you made salsa and that seems alternately tragic and bizarre and just, somehow, unreasonable and nonsensical.
so, of course, I begin to wonder- what else have I stopped doing that I so loved? what have I sacrificed for marathon days of work and stress and laundry and trivialities? oh, writing. yeah, that. only about a year since I touched my blog, or my journal, or my book. not to mention all of those reviews and articles I was supposed to dust off ages ago. it's funny, I have about 48574739 journals. All written in- for about 20 pages. then, nada. I taper off to another few months of literary silence until I discover another smooth leather bound beauty that I cannot live without. this, I whisper in my head, this will be the one that I finish. a process that has repeated itself since I was 12. upon my death, someone will have to dispose of all of those journals. pray God I have completed a few by then, or the numbers will be unbearable to pack up.
of course I need to do more yoga, more exercise, more meditation. a week will go by and my shoulders feel like tightrope- why do we not do the things that feed our souls, that nurture us? is discipline so hard? I've watched the monks in Thailand, I've been to the monasteries. what do they learn to possess that so escapes me? I teach ADD students, half of the time I'm convinced it's all nonsense- not that brains aren't wired differently, but we all seem to suffer somehow from what the Buddhists call monkey brain- the skipping around in our heads, the endless jumping off the track of consciousness that keeps us from curing cancer or discovering new planets. the people out there doing that- they have learned the secret of single minded obsession, and I really envy that sometimes. I obsess over food, but not enough to be an amazing trained chef. I obsess over travel but I've never taken advantage of my experience to write profitably about it or to become a pro in any way. Is it too late to be truly dedicated to one thing, to do it all day and find bliss there? what can I do to be more committed to my passions?
on the other side of the scoreboard, I must give myself small props. after over a decade without one, I finally bought a cheap well loved piano for myself and my son. he loved it at his preschool and I'm hoping he turns into the prodigy that I always wanted to be. because nothing is as wonderful as creating something lovely. and music is his language, he adores it every moment of the day, he would leave it on constantly if he could. he steals my iPod and walks around dancing. so I figure I'll always work hard to indulge him that obsession. it's a good one. it's one to nourish and enable.
in the meantime, I'm a renaissance chica searching for my DaVinci moment, as we all are. it can't hurt to be catalyzed by beautiful experienced and broken open by brave new ventures, even if they are taking us back full circle into ourselves. I suppose that is what true brilliance and talent do, so any road that leads to that Rome is one worth following. I love connection, and I miss it when it isn't present, whatever form it takes. following that back to the root, tracing it down within, is a divine revelation and creates such bliss and peace. I tasted my tomatillo salsa today, remembered my grandmother's face, thought of all the things she tried to teach me, and realized that I was finally ready to embrace the parts of myself that I had put away for safekeeping. my roots are strong, and it's time to branch out and grow- fearlessly.