Talk, talk is cheap
Give me a word you can keep
I wrote so many words last week. I'd wager I would be about halfway through a novel or so, if they were all sequential. Thousands of words. I wrote an outline for a course the other day that was about 500 words just for the outline. I have written course material, notes on presentations, letters, announcements, rental advertisements, elevator pitches, recipes, to do lists, invoice memos, information packages, forms, and emails, just to give you an idea of scope. Words are the one thing I don't often run out of, and when I am speechless, others tend to comment on the rarity.
After several years of feeling more ambivalent about my music the majority of the time, the last six months or so my interest has been waxing again. Not that my need for rhythym and music ever truly left me, I was just preoccupied with other things, it was more of a background noise. I've been looking for new sounds, for interesting lyrics, and finding them in all kinds of places.
My last appointment with my massage therapist, who is fast becoming a good friend, we talked about how my personal stifling also applied to the bouncing, moving, and davening motions that feel so natural to me. When I'm excited about something, I bounce. It comes as easily to me as laughter, rising to the tips of my toes and bouncing. I'm not sure if it's nature or nurture, but I am sure that it's very much a part of who I am. I'm working at being true to the person I really am, being real about the moments when I should be bouncing to show my joy, or to create it when the feeling is missing and I should have more.
There's this grand feeling of success I get when I help someone install a new system that makes their lives easier, or teach someone a concept that helps them. Puzzling out a new set of ideas, creating a system. These things are as natural to me as breathing, and as I find in them my new calling, I breathe easier.
On Wednesday night I head out for a three day business workshop in Calgary that I hope to milk every drop out of as I move forward with Last Resort.
These five things - words, music, movement, analytical thinking, and business - they make up the majority of my life these days. Beside them curls a sleepy dog on an orange pillow on top of a purple blanket on top of a blue futon in a basement suite in the southwest of a really big city - and the dog is unaware that his life will be turned all topsy-turvy again by a move to the northeast corner of the really big city.