"Sometimes I experience something I call the tyranny of a beautiful day. It can feel like a weight or a pressure to 'get out and enjoy it!'...I've learned to bring the beautiful day inside and not feel compelled to go out." SARK, Transformation Soup
Well, it happened again. Harp Camp. I found what I was looking for.
Let me share a little story that I heard listening to the radio in the wee hours of Sunday morning just before the sun came up. There was an author speaking. I think his name is Ocean. (Beautiful)Anyway. He has written a book I think called, Something the Worry Something...I wasn't too awake. He was telling a story from when he was in his early twenties and he was helping out friends by watching their 4 year old daughter while they both had to work (med students). He thought he would take her to McD's and that would be it all day. That lasted 15 minutes. So he asked himself what he wanted to do and he loved to beachcomb. (This happened in Key West). To look for sharks' teeth on "unripped" beaches--they were constantly repushing sand up on the beaches to prevent erosion. Anyhoo, so off they went. He described that you could find these rare but present sharks'teeth by watching for a certain way the sun reflected off of them and the brightness was a sort of flash..and there it was. And so they began to walk and look. Mile and then mile. After a good long while, they stopped. He noticed that Friend's Daughter had an old discarded cup.That was all. He had a pile- black, shiny, sharp, small, rarish but ready to be found. He asked her about the cup and why she hadn't any teeth. She smiled and said, "Look! Here." He did. Her cup was half full with teeth twice as large as those he had found. These were so rare that he had only found one or two in his twenty some years. He was dumbstruck. He asked her--How did you find all those? The big ones? She said, "Well, you told me how to look... I found what I was looking for."
Harp Camp was just like that. Oh, the good, meaningful work of helping others to connect with music and living instruments in a beautiful setting. Taught and co-taught several sessions. It was a challenge. Helped with one-to-one tutoring. Helped to redirect the energy of a young boy into his own musical expression beginnings. Tried to help more with the schlepping--didn't do so well with that. Took a couple of classes myself on the Ancient Music of Ireland and another on embellishments to melody. I went looking for stories. They found me. Went looking for someone to buy the big harp. They found me. Went looking for music to heal my Heart. Found me. Went looking for laughter and ease of rhythm, no angst, no grief, remembrance yes, relanguaging baggaged layers from the past--Found me, found me, found me. In the mystery of melody, harmony, and rhythm. Don't know what I did with my discarded cup....want it for next time.
No news yet on the family-growing front. Still awaiting. My brother Matt has a great song that I have been singing in my head since Friday morning. All about awaiting the little one to come. And another song I have been singing outloud by Darius Rucker called "alright". Bad grammar in that song but captures what I feel and believe at this moment.
Porter had a great time at Camp Alice. He is squirrely today. We haven't walked yet. Were up at our usual 4.30 and then I went back to bed and gave him a frozen kong. When we woke up (I woke up) the kong was et, a sock was et, one of my lavedar menopause boots was et, and an unmentionnable. My fault. My funny. Duct tape will fix the boot. A crate will do the rest. Silly sleepy dog-mom.
Well, it happened again. Harp Camp. I found what I was looking for.
Let me share a little story that I heard listening to the radio in the wee hours of Sunday morning just before the sun came up. There was an author speaking. I think his name is Ocean. (Beautiful)Anyway. He has written a book I think called, Something the Worry Something...I wasn't too awake. He was telling a story from when he was in his early twenties and he was helping out friends by watching their 4 year old daughter while they both had to work (med students). He thought he would take her to McD's and that would be it all day. That lasted 15 minutes. So he asked himself what he wanted to do and he loved to beachcomb. (This happened in Key West). To look for sharks' teeth on "unripped" beaches--they were constantly repushing sand up on the beaches to prevent erosion. Anyhoo, so off they went. He described that you could find these rare but present sharks'teeth by watching for a certain way the sun reflected off of them and the brightness was a sort of flash..and there it was. And so they began to walk and look. Mile and then mile. After a good long while, they stopped. He noticed that Friend's Daughter had an old discarded cup.That was all. He had a pile- black, shiny, sharp, small, rarish but ready to be found. He asked her about the cup and why she hadn't any teeth. She smiled and said, "Look! Here." He did. Her cup was half full with teeth twice as large as those he had found. These were so rare that he had only found one or two in his twenty some years. He was dumbstruck. He asked her--How did you find all those? The big ones? She said, "Well, you told me how to look... I found what I was looking for."
Harp Camp was just like that. Oh, the good, meaningful work of helping others to connect with music and living instruments in a beautiful setting. Taught and co-taught several sessions. It was a challenge. Helped with one-to-one tutoring. Helped to redirect the energy of a young boy into his own musical expression beginnings. Tried to help more with the schlepping--didn't do so well with that. Took a couple of classes myself on the Ancient Music of Ireland and another on embellishments to melody. I went looking for stories. They found me. Went looking for someone to buy the big harp. They found me. Went looking for music to heal my Heart. Found me. Went looking for laughter and ease of rhythm, no angst, no grief, remembrance yes, relanguaging baggaged layers from the past--Found me, found me, found me. In the mystery of melody, harmony, and rhythm. Don't know what I did with my discarded cup....want it for next time.
No news yet on the family-growing front. Still awaiting. My brother Matt has a great song that I have been singing in my head since Friday morning. All about awaiting the little one to come. And another song I have been singing outloud by Darius Rucker called "alright". Bad grammar in that song but captures what I feel and believe at this moment.
Porter had a great time at Camp Alice. He is squirrely today. We haven't walked yet. Were up at our usual 4.30 and then I went back to bed and gave him a frozen kong. When we woke up (I woke up) the kong was et, a sock was et, one of my lavedar menopause boots was et, and an unmentionnable. My fault. My funny. Duct tape will fix the boot. A crate will do the rest. Silly sleepy dog-mom.
posted by MihErn @ 11:18 AM
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