31/365 - Footprints

With the springlike temperature today, the snow is pretty well gone, but I remember Lucy excitedly pointing out some tracks on our snow-covered driveway earlier this week. She thought they belonged to a puppy, but it could've been any of the many country critters that live around our house. She made her own little footprints in the snow as she explored where the "puppy" went.

There's something about spying tracks and footprints that makes me smile. It's as if the spirit of the animal or person who made them is still lingering in the place where I happen to now be going. In instances where I can identify the person who belongs to the footprints, it warms my heart all the more.

Seeing footprints in the snow, or today in the mud (photo courtesy of a fellow runner), reminds me that my journey in this life is one that many others have likely already traveled. And even if I do choose to forge a seemingly new path, I will no doubt leave tracks that others may also choose to follow. Acknowledging my connection to others' journeys makes me more cognizant of my own path, the steps I'm taking, who I'm following, and how I want to lead.

The next time you notice some footsteps, I encourage you to consider the tracks you're making in this world. Would you want people to know your footsteps belong to you?

30/365 - Sleepyhead

Impromptu nap.

Late night good night.

Drift back to sleep,

Smiling.

29/365 - Six Word Story

Basic never met my shoe closet.

28/365 - Penance

Yesterday was my dad's birthday. As usual I was delinquent in sending a card, so I had to make sure I remembered to call him. It was a crazy day at work, but he was on my mind all day - he had been all week, in fact. I said to several of my co-workers, "I can't forget to call my dad today to wish him Happy Birthday!"

I still forgot. Just as I was wrapping up last night's post I gasped in horror at the realization I hadn't yet acknowledged my dad's birthday!!! {sigh} The wayward child, yet again...

I picked up the phone and was relieved to reach my dad on his cell - mind you, this was 10:30pm, well past his bedtime. He was at the lake with my mom and a couple of my siblings and their families, celebrating very well. This contributed greatly to his forgiveness, which flows freely most of the time anyway. Forgiveness probably wasn't even necessary, come to think about. I imagine he was just happy to hear from me. The best part is that he said he'd read my post about my brother earlier in the day, and that, along with my brother's comment, was the best birthday gift I could've given him. As I said before, the Clif Perrymans of the world are some of the best men I know.

I still feel like I deserve some penance for not giving my pops the credit due him on the day I should be celebrating his life and how much he's done for me over the years. Publicizing this photo, should do it. Yep, that's me with the little orphan Annie look.

Both of our hairstyles have changed drastically since then, though I'm guessing I'm much more thankful about that than he is.

Happy belated birthday to you, Dad! I love you always.

27/365 - The apples don't fall too far from the tree

I'm feeling spent and uninspired tonight, so I leave the the discernment, poetry, and perspective to each of my lovelies...

Quinn, when discussing how you learn to write: "This is how you learn to write - You write."

Wise words indeed.

Sophie, from what she considers her best essay ever, written today: "When spring is here, joy is bubbling up and over inside me."

Couldn't have said it better myself.

Lucy, I'm sorry to say, was far too busy fussing with her hair to make a contribution to this post.

There's no denying these squirts are my kids!

26/365 - Something to Consider

I've seen this quote in multiple places recently, and it came to mind again today as I've been attempting to maneuver some tricky relationships, both in my personal life and at work. My boss, I can assure you, is the epitome of diplomacy. I've learned so much from her about how to communicate with others, especially when there is conflict involved. (Let me tell you, I owe her a huge debt of gratitude when it comes to navigating conversations with my ex-husband.)

When I put good old Ben Franklin's wisdom into practice with my boss's careful guidance, I realize we have to not just let go of identifying what needs to be changed in one another, but to also look beyond the change we perceive is needed in the first place. It's been my experience that fighting for what we want, or think is right, or believe is true only serves to deepen the differences we have with one another. I'm not naive enough to say that positive change that ultimately works in everyone's favor is inevitable when people communicate and cooperate, but it's certainly more likely. I wonder if, when faced with a conflict, it might it be more constructive to ask, "What am I willing to concede for the sake of progress?"

Easier said than done, I will be the first to attest, but definitely something to consider.

25/365 - Big Brother

That's me and my big brother, Clif. My family and I still call him C.R., which was his childhood nickname. Every first-born male on my dad's side of the family was named Clifton as far back as anyone can remember, and every one of them had a nickname that stuck with the family long after they felt grown up enough to be called "Clif."

The Clifton Perrymans of the world are some of the best men I know...devoted and loving husbands, awesome dads, faithful men of God, loyal friends, and dedicated stewards to their community. My brother, who was born Clifton Robert on this day forty years ago, follows in the family's footsteps and reputation quite naturally, and my nephew, Chip (Clifton John), is going to have some pretty big shoes to fill someday.

I'm guessing C.R. doesn't know I admire him as much as I do. That's probably in part because, although we were inseparable as kids, we were always getting each other in trouble - Well, mostly I was getting him in trouble. Plus I was the annoying younger sister that always tagged along with his friends, or pitched a fit every time I had to do his paper route, or he had to drive me to dance class, or I was snotty to his girlfriend...

Now that we're older, I see how he's become such an honorable man, yet even though I'm confident in the woman I've become, I sometimes feel like he just sees me as the bratty sister who's flying in the face of family tradition all the time. I'm sure this is because I'm still a bit jealous of the pride I see in my father's eyes when he and my brother are together - not that I'm especially proud to admit this. But I reveal this because I've learned that bringing age-old unspoken battles into the light sometimes allows peace and healing to come into a relationship. Not always, but sometimes. Maybe I'm just realizing I don't have to be the sullen second sister anymore, vying for my parents' approval. I can simply be who am and commend my brother for who he is. He is certainly worthy of the esteem, and it's about time I grew up and told him.

I think I will...

Happy birthday, C.R.! I'm sorry I've been such a bratty sister. I really think you're the best big brother a girl could have, and I sure do love you!

Your sister forever - whether you like it or not,

~Em

24/365 - Listening

I don't think it's a coincidence when a particular message makes its way into my life repeatedly over a short period of time. My ears usually perk up after a second hearing, but when it comes around a third time, I know I'm supposed to listen. For example, three different people recently told me not to sell myself short. Those were the exact words, each and every time: "Emily, don't sell yourself short." Even if I am a mere 5' 3," I best be listening to that one.

When I posted the intimacy quote from Richard Bach last week, I hadn't actually read any of his books. Now, thanks to the generosity of a kind soul, I've finished two of his books and am halfway through a third, and I wonder how I've gotten through life so far without all the gems he has peppered throughout his work. One that struck me the most was from his well-known and enlightening book, Illusions: "You are never given a wish without also being given the power to make it true. You may have to work for it, however."

I only needed to hear it a second time - or in this case see it - to know that it's a sentiment I should take to heart. Here is the essence of the same quote again, where I saw it written in chalk on a restaurant wall the very same day I read it in Bach's The Bridge Across Forever: "We will receive not what we idly wish for, but what we justly earn. Our rewards will be in exact proportion to our service."

Because the "don't sell yourself short" message came to me in such close proximity to the one about earning what we wish for, I can't help but interpret them as being linked somehow. I'm still trying to figure out exactly what that might mean for me, but I have a feeling it has something to do with relationships. Well, maybe one in particular.

I also have a feeling that continuing to listen is a critical part of the wishing and working.

23/365 - Words

I'm proud to say I have a fairly advanced vocabulary. In fact, when said attribute was previously assessed, I was pegged an "English Genius" and have since aspired to uphold such an estimable honor for the sake of all who revere a befittingly proper vernacular. But every now and then - just as I often begin sentences with conjunctions and perhaps less frequently deign to end them with a preposition - I find it's much more apropos to make up words, if only because it's fun to.

Tonight, I introduce three neologisms that I challenge you to define, a la Sniglets meets Urban Dictionary. No additional context will be provided. Jolly Ranchers will be awarded for the most creative definitions:

1. appregiation
   
   
2. nonpareilegram
   
   
3. kissnoozing

Have fun!

22/365 - Home

I suppose it seems odd that someone anxious about flying would prefer the window seat, but looking out into the bright blue forever above a sea of clouds brings me a measure of peace when I'm 25,000 feet up and feeling alone. Sometimes, it helps to know someone on earth is thinking of me while I'm up there....If I close my eyes and breathe deeply enough, it seems as if there is only a very thin veil of light separating us. The in-flight wi-fi certainly contributes to that feeling of connection too.

I was a bit more anxious on this return flight than I was heading out. It could've been my eagerness to get home, could've be the larger airplane and delayed departure because of so many passengers, could've be too much coffee right before the flight, could've been the turbulence most of the way, could've been the screaming kids.....likely all of the above. All I can say now is that I'm relieved to finally be home safe with my babies tucked upstairs in their beds, their lingering sweet kisses and "I love you's" slowly washing away the stress of getting home to them.

21/365 - Ask yourself

How many sunsets open the eyes and heart to glory before the blazing beauty of the sun kissing the horizon is lost to the familiarity of yet another day gone by?

20/365 - Beach Life

Here, my friends, is Venice Beach, what I'm dubbing the New Orleans of California. Artists and vendors own the street hawking normal beach wares - flip-flops, sunglasses, t-shirts, and purportedly hand-painted portraits - but here in Venice Beach I was also given the option to buy stilts, an adult-sized rainbow hued hula hoop, and reggae music just for kids, blaring right from a vintage red radio flyer wagon. I saw countless dudes on rollerblades and skateboards weaving in and out of the throngs of people jogging or lolling by - while I sat at a sidewalk cafe last night, more than one guy coasted by on wheels of some sort serenading the crowd with his electric guitar and wearing an amp for a fanny pack. Music was on every corner, either piped in or played live, and when I finally tucked into bed in my beachfront hotel later that night, I could still hear laughter and the tunes of a not so lonely blues band drifting into the night.

The nightlife eventually faded into my dreams, and I awoke this morning eager to hear the students that had brought me to LA, by way of the beach. Dressed and ready for work, I made my way out onto the ocean front walk in search of a cuppa joe and some breakfast. I turned the corner and was surprised to see so many people on the street that early, but it only took a few more naive steps to realize that most of them hadn't quite gotten out of bed just yet. One man was combing his hair and a couple others were sharing a smoke, but the vast majority were still tucked into their blankets, sleeping bags, or cardboard mats all along the street. A little further down, the garbage men were disposing of a tattered mattress and pile of clothes left behind by someone who either didn't come home last night or who picked a rotten time to go take a leak. I, myself, drew quite a bit of attention clicking down the street in my open-toed black pumps, colorful skirt and ruffled top. "You look awfully nice today, ma'am," I heard from an older gentleman who was missing a good many teeth. I smiled and nodded, "Thank you." Not ten paces later, I spied a teenage girl who met my eyes as she stood from her bedroll and stretched. I smiled shyly and said, "Good morning," self-conscious about barging through her bedroom. When I passed by the girl on my way back, she called out, "I like your skirt!"

My skirt. A skirt I probably paid $3.50 for at the Salvation Army was the envy of that girl - or so I thought. When I shared the story with a friend later, he said, "Maybe she just liked your skirt."

Maybe she did.

I never did go far enough to find my morning coffee on Venice Beach. I cowardly double-backed to my hotel and called a cab - I decided to find some breakfast near the music school downtown instead. And the whole way there, I contemplated my own circumstances - far from rich but even farther from poor than I thought - and I realized how fortunate I am to have the luxury of paying $3.50 for a skirt from the Salvation Army.

19/365 - Beach Beauty

Hurray! This post is proof that I survived my flight to LA!!! You would be proud to know I didn't even need my meds (good thing, since I forgot to pack them), and I only ordered a gin & tonic because a friend gave me a complimentary coupon for one free cocktail. All told, it was a blessedly uneventful and peaceful flight.

My one priority upon arrival was to head straight for the beach, which also happens to be where my hotel is located. On the way, I struck up a conversation with my cabbie, Ahmed. I came to find that Ahmed has only been in LA for a few weeks. Originally from Somalia, he's lived in various places around the U.S., and other members of his family are scattered throughout the world, thanks to the many countries that provided asylum to Somalian refugees during the 1990's.

It didn't take long for me to discover that Ahmed is one of those rare souls who somehow still experiences true joy in the midst of the most dire circumstances. He had a sparkle in his eye and a genuine smile that lit up his whole face.

Since Ahmed was fairly new to the area, he didn't know the street my hotel was on. "We'll just have to find it together, then," I said. And sure enough we did, with a little help from the GPS. The best part is when we pulled up to the hotel, Ahmed saw the beach and burst out with, "That's the Pacific Ocean, isn't it!?!" The look of wonder on his face was priceless. Ahmed graciously helped me get my bags out of the car and then just as quickly found a parking space so he could go dip his toes in the ocean. I'm still regretting that I didn't offer to join him!

Oh, I did get back out to the beach after getting settled in to my room, and I couldn't help but think of Ahmed when I dug my toes in the sand and lost my thoughts in the sound of the waves. I also wish - as inappropriate as it would have been to ask - that I had taken a picture and captured that amazing smile on Ahmed's face. Probably wouldn't have done his joy justice.

Here are some more shots of the beauty I captured around the beach tonight instead:

18/365 - Just another ordinary day

Earlier today, my Facebook post read:

"The next 24 hours could very well be my last..."

"Why," might you ask? Well, it's quite simple - I'm getting on an airplane tomorrow.

Yes, I'm aware that's rather dramatic of me, but I can't help it...I'm terribly anxious about flying! Everyone who knows me knows this. My brain and most everyone else tells me it's a completely irrational fear, but it's still a real fear - the kind that even gin and a healthy dose of Lorazepam don't really fix. However! There has been progress since my last anxiety-laden essay about flying, in that I may have finally figured out why flying scares the Bejesus out of me:

1) I have absolutely no control over my destiny. So true when you're in the passenger seat of a Boeing 737. "And," as Diana Ross sings, "...there ain't nothin' I can do about it."

2) I don't want to die alone. Not alone as in "I'm still single on yet another Valentine's Day" - I mean when an airplane crashes, usually everyone dies, and I hate the idea of there not being any (alive) people there to usher me into the next whatever there is after death. Weird, I know, but it's true.

Whenever I get on an airplane, I actually do prepare for my own death. Not to the point of cleaning my house or anything - that would be downright insanity - but I do make a concerted effort to ensure that my last living 24 hours are exactly how I'd want to live them, with no regrets, just in case I do die.

So, how did spend what could perhaps be my last 24 hours today?

First and foremost, I began my day with my three lovelies all snuggled in bed with me, and then we had a great morning of muffins - favorite breakfast for the kids - and getting ready for school - mostly cooperative. Good-byes were happy and full of hugs and "I love you's" and my life would've been complete then and there.

But no! I got to spend much of the rest of the day nurturing another thing I love - my job. I was proud of the work I accomplished and the relationships I fostered today. Now, if I can only get to LA to hear some of these kids audition and then back again to deliver the results, we'll be golden!

After work, I taught a lesson to my favorite student, which is always a joy and a lesson for me as much as I hope it is for her. She even brought me a box of fancy European chocolates today - which reminds me, I should have one of those before I leave, just in case...

If all that wasn't enough, I topped the day off by giving my feet a good whooping on the dance floor. And if you don't know me well enough to know I'm afraid of flying, you gotta know I love dancing! If I die tomorrow, I will certainly die a happy girl. Here are my joyful, gnarley, tuckered-out toes, right before bed:

Hey, my pedi still doesn't look half bad! I would say those feet are looking pretty grounded too, even if they are a little sore...

Hmm, maybe that's because when I began this day and considered - not entirely in jest - that it could very well be my last, I consciously spent it with more love, patience, gratitude, responsibility, openness, and joy than I might if it were just any other ordinary day. And yet it was just another ordinary day, filled with all sorts of activities and (alive) people who made it meaningful and good.

Why should it matter who's there when I die - whenever that may be - when I'm already so fortunate to be surrounded by such gifted and inspiring people in the living of my life? When I have the opportunity to do so much of what I love? And who ever said anyone was in control of their destiny in the first place? I could just as easily and more likely die in my car on the way to work one day.

Maybe our fears, whether irrational or completely valid, exist as a reminder to consider what's most important in life - and that's quite simply living it, and living it well. Well, I intend to do just that...airplanes be-damned!

17/365 - Where's Emily?

Can you find me in this picture?

Look very closely...

Still can't see me?

Hmm....



That's probably because I'm hiding under the covers in my bed, and I don't plan to come out again until tomorrow morning.

16/365 - Now

"We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now." ~Martin Luther King, Jr., from "I Have a Dream"

It has become somewhat of a ritual for me to listen to Dr. King's speech on this day of remembrance the past few years, but this year I introduced his words to my children with more ceremony than usual - and video, thanks to YouTube. Quinn complained halfway through of being bored, that there were too many words, but I felt it was important for him to listen, even if he didn't understand it...now.

Of all the great quotes from this speech, "...the fierce urgency of Now" struck me today as being a particularly powerful, but perhaps too often overlooked sentiment. The timeless notion of reflecting on a past held hostage offers no choice except to stay mired in the past or dream about grandeur and hope for a future change, but one cannot forget that "Now" stands irrevocably in between.

15/365 - What We See

Do you see that white kidney bean of light against the black sky? That is my half moon, my golden globe of hope as I make my way home tonight. Is it your moon too? That depends whether you are willing to share it when we both look upon the night.

"The opposite of Loneliness is not Togetherness, it's Intimacy." ~Richard Bach

14/365 - Connections

The program now on my bedside table, I nestle in to write... As I contemplate the words that I already know will be woefully inadequate compared to tonight's performances, I can still hear the chorus of jazz saxophones zooming all over Odean Pope's Prince La Sha. Now - after you YouTube and listn to some Odean Pope yourself - imagine that sound seamlessly transitioning to a solo pianist tickling the keys with some Rachmaninoff, followed immediately by an a capella chamber choir singing Ginastera's Lamentations. Then, without a breath, you hear a comical a tuba duet framing the Jabberwoky poem, which goes right into a toe-tapping rendition of Gershwin's favorite "Strike Up the Band," and then - as if that wasn't rousing enough - a soaring soprano soloist ushers in the relentless finale of Carmina Burana. And that, folks, is just half of the second half of Collage!

Tonight's concert, in addition to being incredibly impressive and immensely enjoyable, brought to mind countless memories of my own experiences as a musician since I was in school. It's hard to believe I once performed on that stage, and now I'm proudly pointing out the kids I had the privilege to work with during their admission to the School - in some small way, introduce to that very same stage.

To quote a new friend, "It's that connection to what's underneath; the memories, sensations and feelings that can be found in a piece of music, in the physical expressions of dancing, in a poem with powerful language carefully assembled. All there if we are mindful of them."

Tonight, I was certainly mindful as I was listening and watching and often moving to the music. I was mindful of who I am - a musician and a teacher, a dancer and a writer, a counselor and a colleague. I was mindful of the future these amazing young musicians, actors and dancers will have and the connections they will make....mindful of my own connections. And, as I finally drift off to sleep, I of course have a mind full of so much wonderful music, theatre and dance!

13/365 - All About the Kids

Tonight's post is sans picture. Not because there aren't any to post from today. In fact, my friend Jessi took a great one of me all pimped out tonight driving her car, which is sporty compared to mine. I drive a van. Any opportunity to be semi-cool or merely pretend to be cool in a vehicle, and I jump all over it.

But I digress...

Why no picture? Because it's not about me. It's about the kids....the many kids who reminded me this week how lucky I am to get to do what I do: I get to be a Mom to the best kids I know. I teach a flute student every week and am continually amazed by her sense of musicianship, at the ripe old age of fifteen. Yesterday, I reviewed the application of a jazz student whose father died when he was twelve and who now demonstrates not only the academic and artistic merits in some of our finest students, but also a level of maturity and genuine commitment to philanthropy that is rare in adults, let alone teenagers. Today, I met with I can't tell you how many eager and talented music, musical theatre, and dance students and their families while they were on campus to audition for the School of Music, Theatre & Dance at UM, listening to their stories and witnessing the passion for performing in their eyes and nervous smiles. And I ended my day watching a high school musical theatre production that totally knocked my socks off.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again - It is way more rewarding to be even a small part of helping a young person realize his or her dreams than it ever was pursuing my own. It ain't about me anymore, folks. It's all about the kids. It's all about the kids.

12/365 - Seriously?

Dear Dove,

I refuse to accept this "promise." I don't want to be my own Valentine. Does anyone, really? I mean, the whole point of Valentine's Day is to celebrate the love or, at the very least, friendship shared with another person. Key word here: "another."

No one really wants to rejoice in being alone...I certainly don't. I might celebrate my freedom and truly enjoy the time I have to myself, but I would much rather share my life on an intimate level with another person. Key word here: "another."

As for being "your own Valentine," my friend, Linda says, "been doing that for too many years....it sucks." That's right. So, get your promises in order! The next one I find better say "Jason Mraz is your Valentine," or I may have to stop eating your chocolates. Or at least reading your promises.

Sincerely,
Very Happy Being Me

11/365 - A Cinquain

Laundry...
Relentless piles
Stalking my existence;
How long might I forestall the call
To fold?

10/365 - Doe, a Deer

There is something about the deer that live in the woods near my office building that makes me pause in wonder and delight whenever I chance to meet them. It's actually not uncommon to catch them bounding across the street as I'm coming into work or grazing among the trees near the pond out back. Every time I see them, even if it's just a glimpse of their tails as they disappear into the woods, I catch my breath and smile, slow down, and pause to watch.

Maybe it's their delicate frame and graceful manner that inspire me. Or it could be that I am drawn to their cautious curiosity, a mixture of boldness and mystery. In any case, I am always filled with awe when I see the deer.

On the front lawn earlier today, there were no fewer than seven deer grazing when I drove past the School on my way back from a meeting. They barely noticed as I stopped to admire their peaceful presence, which I so envied. I watched for a few moments and then went on my way, the peace they instilled lingering just until I got back to my office and the barrage of work that awaited.

9/365 - Yoga, dedicated to Jessi

Top 10 reasons I practice yoga:

1. To breathe deeply and purposefully, acknowledging what a gift it is to be alive.
   
2. To live with intention.
3. To discipline my mind, body and spirit through prayerful thoughts and actions.
4. To honor my limitations and weaknesses as the foundation of my strength.
5. To find balance through focus and forgiveness.
   
6. To laugh when I fall.
7. To be faithful in spite of fatigue, stress, or despair.
8. To remember that flexibility comes, not from pushing through pain or tension, but learning to release it.
9. To be open to grace.
   
   and most importantly...
   
   
10. To do things I used to do as a kid,
    

like headstands

and back bends.

8/365 - My Lovelies

My children have the ability to bring out the most extreme emotional responses in me. I know I'm not alone in experiencing this phenomenon, but damn, it's a good thing there's yoga and friends and neighbors and wine and forgiveness and mandatory quiet time and unconditional love. I rely on more than one of those lifesavers most days and wine usually every day.

One or two of my lovelies often make their way into my bed at night, but this morning I opened my eyes and stretched out all by my gloriously lonesome self for a change. Then I rolled over and looked at the clock, and realized with extra glee that it was past 9am! Not long after that, my boy Quinn padded down the hall and climbed in for a snuggle. Lucy Lu wasn't far behind, and when Sophie climbed in, I was the happiest mom on earth. Morning snuggles on the weekend with my lovelies after a great night of sleep are the best! They're all squishy and warm and give me hugs and kisses and giggle and don't even notice my dragon breath.

Of course, my revelry lasted about as long as it took for everyone to tromp downstairs. There was complaining about what to have for breakfast and arguing over whose turn it was to have the red plate and bickering about how to make a Lego truck the right away and hurt feelings because so and so "called me a poopy butt" and saying it wasn't fair that she got to wear a fancy dress and crying over spilled milk that dripped through the crack in the table which the cats licked up and no doubt will give them diarrhea and whining because he got a bigger piece of cake never mind that she didn't even end up eating all of hers and the intentional dumping of the entire contents of my shower gel on the bathroom rug, and.... I was grateful for the hour or so they spent playing at the neighbor's house, during which time I finished the dishes, rearranged and vacuumed the living room, started the laundry, and spent the last 10 minutes enjoying the relative cleanliness and breathing deeply in and out very slowly in preparation for the undoing that would ensue upon my lovelies' return home.

The truth is, they aren't always home wreckers. In fact, they're really cool kids - smart, funny, imaginative, wise, and thoughtful, and I am so lucky I get to be their mom.

Lucy, my cherished bringer of light, is such a ham - She cracked me up with her bagel goggles at breakfast this morning. And when she returned home from the neighbor's house and walked into the temporarily pristine living room, she exclaimed with all sincerity, "Oh, Mom, the living room looks so, so pretty! Did you do all this? I love it!"

Quinn tells me he loves me about a hundred times a day, usually like this: "I love you, Mom." I love you too, Quinn. "I love you more." I love you most, Quinn. "I love you infinity, infinity, infinity, infinity, infinity beyond and three hundred billion trillion googleplex stars, Mom!" I can't top that, Buddy, you love me most.

Sophie, bless her sensitive heart, is always trying to make up for the stress and mess in our lives. We disassembled Christmas at our house today, which meant the living room was a disaster zone of ornaments and decorations, along with the usual in sundry bits and pieces of toys and games and socks and general disarray. While I was wrestling the tree downstairs, Lucy decided to build a "kitty house" in the vacant space, so cushions were pulled off the couch and a menagerie of tiny toys were brought in "for the kitties to play with." I was less than enthusiastic about her project: "Can't you see I'm trying to clean up in here!!!" So, while I was hauling a box of ornaments to the basement, I came back up to find Sophie putting away toys and cleaning up all by herself, without prompting.

The shower gel incident is what really put me over the edge tonight. I had just cleaned the bathroom and had not intended to do so again anytime soon, but Quinn obviously had other plans while I was bouncing back and forth between bath zones. I confess I lost my temper when I discovered the mess and heard the words, "but I was pretending..." When I told Quinn how angry I was with him, he said, "but you still love me, right Mom?" Yes, Quinn, I love you. I will always love you, even when I'm angry. "So that means if you're very, very, very angry, you still love me very, very, very much?" That's right, my son. I will love you no matter how angry I am. Sophie and Lucy volunteered some hugs after that, and then we all ended our day with the same squishy snuggles that started it.

And here they are now, sleeping like angels...



...my very own angels that teach me humility, make me rely more on prayer, help me appreciate the power of forgiveness, and show me how to love unconditionally. You don't get at all of that when it's neat and tidy and quiet all the time.

7/365 - Porch Time

Sitting on my porch this unseasonably balmy day makes me long even more for the spring and summer. Autumn used to be my favorite season, with the beautiful fall colors, crisp scent in the air, and crunch of leaves underfoot, but now the falling leaves just reminds me that winter is about to come crashing in on the fun.

I always have a hard time during the winter months. I'm forever hunching my shoulders to escape the cold wind and frigid temps, but this just adds to my tension that develops throughout this season at work. I miss digging in the dirt, running trails, sunshine that lasts past my kids' bedtime, relaxing on my porch, summer vacations, swimming in the neighbors' pool, sleeping with the windows open, waking to birdsong...which will surely come again. In the meantime, I am grateful to steal a little time on my porch with the sunshine and Puck, my feline friend, even though my fingers are numb from the cold on this unseasonably balmy day.

6/365 - Slumber Party Supper

Lucy and Viv in the kitchen with me,

makin' P-I-Z-Z-A E-Z

First roll the dough

Then spread the sauce

Sprinkle on some cheese, and it's dinner for us!

My apologies for the overtly cheesy content of Slumber Party Supper. Despite the small addition of Popeye's miracle to my side of the pizza, there wasn't enough energy left at the end of this day for a proper post.

5/365 - Sunrise

One of my friends, who was a dedicated follower of my online dating blog, had a fantastic idea when I told her about my new writing project. She suggested I post a picture every day as a sort of photo history to accompany my writing for 2012. Brilliant I tell you, simply brilliant!

I had my other blog for a little over a year, and while I didn't write every day, I do remember how interesting it was to read through my posts from start to finish and reminisce about the people I had met over the course of that time, as well as revisit my own responses to those experiences. How much more poignant it would be to look back at every day of a year in a life, with pictures to conjure up vivid memories of what might normally be tossed aside as "just another day."

Vowing to write 365 has already increased my awareness and sensitivity as I'm going about 2012. It's not as if I'm looking for subject matter like I confess I was doing when I joined OKCupid and started my other blog....Let me tell you, online dating offered some great fodder for my writing! Even though the first few pieces on this site have been more preamble than profound creative expression, my commitment to writing on a daily basis seems to be heightening my perception and appreciation of situations that I might normally disregard as blasé, or at least not deem worthy of any special attention. Perhaps that's because when we engage our creative consciousness, we are able look beyond the practical applications of living and focus instead on an existence that is meaningful and extraordinary, when it might normally seem mean and ordinary. I would even go one step further and say that consciously accessing the creative force within us allows us to tap into something greater than ourselves that connects us in consequential ways to other human beings.

One of my colleagues at work has been posting some amazing sunrise and sunset photos on Facebook recently. I really must be introduced to her deck one of these days... I'm including one of my own from this morning as I was racing to yoga - late, of course. This view literally took my breath away and made me pause in my frantic rush to go meditate.

I immediately thought of K. and wondered if she would post this morning's sunrise too. Sure enough she did, though hers was clearly taken earlier - probably about the time I should have been arriving at yoga.

Just for fun, I went back and add a few photos to my previous posts. Yesterday, I noticed one of my salsa friends snapping pictures while I was on the dance floor, so I'm hoping to include one for "Ode to a dance partner" eventually. Come to think of it, it's really too bad I didn't include photos of my dates in my online dating blog. One guy that I saw actually posed in a professional portrait with his prize-winning llama. I might've been better off going out with the llama...

4/365 - Ode to a dance partner

Psst! Can't you see I'm waiting for you to ask me? This is a great song, and I love to Salsa! Merengue!! Bachata!!! (I'm not picky.) You should know by now I like a strong lead and a solid beat - I promise I'll follow you even if you're not on it. I don't care if you're shorter than me and only speak Spanglish. If you dip me low and spin me fast, I will be on the floor with you all night long. But you should really consider cutting back on the cologne. Also, if I wanted to be groped, I would've gone to the Necto. No, please...please don't. Please don't ask me out - I'm here to dance...that's all, just DANCE!

3/365 - Last Minute

Captured on my way to pick up my kids - late, of course.

The sun setting at 5:30 was proof that the days

are only getting longer, which means I'll have more time soon...

For as long as I can remember, I've been notoriously late. I'm also a professional procrastinator. Surprisingly, I almost never freak out about waiting until the last minute, because inspiration miraculously comes to me under pressure. Take tonight, for example... I started and finished choreographing a musical number I'll be teaching to the cast of a community theatre production - tomorrow. Heck, I'll even have some time after work to add some finishing touches before rehearsal, so this could be considered finishing early!

The only problem with procrastination is that it usually means I have to blow everything else off my plate the night before anything is due to be finished. But here I am, as promised, still getting a few words on the page, even if it is just a few minutes before midnight.

There's still plenty of time left, right?

2/365 - Dedicated to KBJ

At lunch today, my daughter was musing about what she wants to be when she grows up... "I want to be a doctor and a nurse and an artist and a teacher and a veterinarian and a vet tech... What does a vet tech actually do? ...Can I be a doctor AND a nurse? ...Or, I know, maybe I can be an art teacher!" The fire of possibility in her eyes was inspiring. It made me wonder what I'm going to be when I grow up?

I suppose it's no coincidence that I might be asking that question when my former college flute professor decides to drop a note on my Facebook page. I also see that she's now following my blog. No pressure, really...

Me & KBJ after my college graduation, June 1991

Truth be told, I've often questioned my decision to pursue a career in music, and I wonder how different my life would be if I had chosen a different path. It's not that I have any regrets now - I don't believe in regrets - but I used to doubt my choice when I was struggling to find my way as a musician. I can look back now, though, and see how the many failures and twists and turns gave me the experience and insight that prepared me for the career I have today. I really owe that career to KBJ, my college flute professor, who over twenty years ago saw some potential in me, an inexperienced and naive flute player from rural Ohio who didn't know all of her major scales and had never heard of an orchestral excerpt. She took me on as a student because she believed in me, and over four years, she laid the foundation for what ultimately became my own artistry, teaching, mentoring, discipline, dedication, decisions... Don't get me started on the "D" words! (Sorry, inside joke between KBJ and her students.)

After lunch today, I told my daughter that no matter what she decides to be, she will very likely always be a teacher too. That's partly because she's the daughter, niece, granddaughter, and great-granddaughter of teachers, and it's partly because the sorts of things she's learning - those "D" words in particular that I learned from KBJ - are not just reserved for the classroom or the music studio. They are life lessons that permeate everything she will do and impact everyone she meets.

Once she realizes that, it won't really matter what she chooses to be when she grows up - and that's just as true for her at eight as it is for me at thirty-eight.

1/365

I gave my teenage niece an iTunes gift card for Christmas this year so she could give the music library on her new iPod a boost. Before narrowing down her selections in iTunes, we made a playlist in my Spotify account to check out the latest hits. Don't tell anyone, but I've been listening to Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez ever since. I sent my niece a text yesterday to thank her for sharing such great music with me, and she responded, "thanks 4 bringing me into your world once more."

Wow, pretty poetic for my niece - at least I don't remember her being that expressive before! Now, I've long felt more capable of expressing myself in writing than I do verbally, but my niece reminded me how much freedom the written word sometimes gives us to reveal the person we are, even if we don't have the courage to say those things face to face to another human being.

My closest friends know that I've been writing the past couple years, everything from long spiritual essays to angsty poetry to a blog about online dating, and I've even mused about writing a book. As I go into this new year, I am filled with gratitude for so many experiences, hope for what the future brings, and the motivation to make more space in my life for creative expression. So, with that intention, I am starting "365" and am resolved to write something every day this year.

One of my former teachers made a similar resolution to run every day for an entire year, and he never skipped a day, even when he was sick! Here's to the same devotion (or is it insanity?) for my 365 in 2012!

Rockin' out to Kate's Favs and ringing in the New Year!