I push and pull during a learning phase when I am trying to get all controlling and end up missing sleep, or wait missing rest. I place myself all up amongst about four big projects and then attempt to stand in the middle circling in a mad conductor type of way. The little baton thingy in a staccato frenzy and me standing on a centered pedestal with a bad ankle.
Until finally one day I get sick.
It will put me down, the learning. It will lay me to bed with a fever and a runny nose.
I had trouble with two men. One at a doctor's office in Mississippi, another at a steel plant in Missouri. Both surprised me. I didn't see them coming, maybe I was warned I don't know, but I can tell you that they irked me a bit, possibly increased the pressure of which the blood pumps underneath my skin.
To both I responded outwardly, Happy New Year, but not in the same tone that I said it to my friends and family and the cashiers who check me out anywhere and my new friends on facebook. It was a serious tone as if I was that little girl in that horror movie from ages ago who could catch someone's head on fire when she looked real hard at them. I think this may be what some people call passive aggressive. I mirrored them but not in a way that I punched them in the nose.
It's like you want to kick someone's ass but that's not socially acceptable so you give them a HAPPY. NEW. YEAR. that could set their head on fire. I'm not proud of this. I think this is called honesty.
The first guy was brimming with anger, at me at the world, and he treated me as if I was substandard. That somehow he was better than me and we actually kinda almost spit at each other when we talked. 'Cause hell, I am at my core Bobby and Patsy's daughter. Call it whatever you'd like but I got some good ole stand up and give it back in me. I think that is the learning, recognizing what I don't like within myself 'cause I see it out in front of me.
Slater and I had this discussion years ago over a band instructor.
The next guy would only help so much. There was a limit to his giving, and I had a long drive to think about that one. How much do I truly give? Not enough I guess. It's true, not enough.
So I recognize these things and the music slows, the ankle heals and the pedestal lowers to the ground as I begin to regain some balance and remember the lessons I learned last year. Now. What is now?
Today is a holiday called healing.