31 December, 2010


Reflecting on this crazy year with good friends this December 31st, we had a discussion about 2010... some called it "bad", some called it "hard", and then my friend K said it was not necessarily a bad year, but it was a difficult year.  And I had to agree.  It was a wonderful and difficult 12 months!

In January, I began my maternity leave.
In February, I had a baby.
In March, I returned to work.
In April, I got engaged on Easter.
In May, I began writing for a mom's blog.
In June, I got married and baptized my baby (in the same month!).
In July, I contemplated religion and motherhood and life.
In August, I began my journey as a vegetarian.
In September, I began writing thank you notes for everything (and I'm still not finished!).
In October, I turned 31.
In November, I celebrated Baby G's fist Thanksgiving.
In December, I celebrated her first Christmas.

All year long, I was a mother - for the first time.  I became a wife, a true partner - for the first time.  And that is not easy.  It's good, it's wonderful - but it's not easy. 

Aloha, 2010. 
Aloha, 2011. 

13 December, 2010


I'm a caretaker.  I follow in my mother's footsteps - she takes care of everybody.  And I like being a caretaker.  Today included providing for Baby G in the morning, providing for people at work all day, tucking Baby G into bed, making soup for my under-the-weather hubby, then cuddling up in our bed with him to sooth the ailing away - a long, good day.

12 December, 2010


It's the day of the show, ya'll.

The choir concert was tonight.  I got to St. George's for the final-touches rehearsal at 2:30 and about an hour later my wonderful husband and my beautiful baby girl were waiting in the back of the church to get their seats for the performance.  As I'm usually the one standing with her in the back of a church while her daddy sings every Sunday, it was a nice switch to have the shoe on the other foot.

I was proud to be up there, singing my heart out - for myself, for my family, for a greater community; and I was proud to be supported by J & G.  I was blissfully "in the moment" during that two-hour concert.  And it was over too quickly.

11 December, 2010


I've written a few times about "90 DAYS"... but I can't even imagine 90 years.

My grandmother turned 90 today.  

How's it feel to be nine decades old?  Well, according to her:
"It could be better." 

As I was chatting with her on the phone... "I heard there was a party for you today, Grandma. How was it?"  "Oh there were SO many people there... like ten or twenty!" she said.  (It was more like 50.)

It's also my mom's birthday today.  She was born on her mother's birthday.  I used to joke about the labor process and how "oh, yeah - what a great birthday present to go through that."  But being a mother now, I say it without sarcasm:  what a GREAT birthday present.

09 December, 2010


I'm a really good actor.  So good, I've convinced myself that I didn't really miss performing... but it turns out that I do.  I miss it so much more than I fooled myself into thinking I did.

Wonderfully, I opened an email the other day from a dear man for whom I love to sing - he's a great conductor, pulling music out of me that I forgot I owned, making me want to work harder for the beauty of the song.  He invited me to sing in his choir for a holiday concert and I jumped at the chance.

I walked into the chapel at St. George's with smiling butterflies in my stomach - and I walked out with tears in my soul.

It was emotional - to be singing again (and such beautiful music), to be working with this conductor I adore, to be part of a group making a glorious noise... and to know that it would all be over within 3 more rehearsals and 1 short performance.

I came home that night and cried in my husband's arms.  And he held me tight while I gave in to missing it, while I saw through my own veneer.

04 December, 2010


I went to "my old 'hood" this evening... the neighborhood in which I lived during a hard time in my life.  A neighborhood so high up in Manhattan that we lovingly/hatingly nicknamed it "upstate Manhattan".  I headed up there to go to a holiday party at my good friend's home.  She lives a stone's throw from the apartment where I used to live, (although her one-bedroom is much much nicer than mine was).

Sometimes it's weird going back to a place.  I'm a different person than I was when I lived there a few short years ago - although it seems like a lifetime has passed since then.  Then - I was tired, I was struggling, I was unhappy... in short, I was not myself.  Now - I am full of life, I am loved, I am joyous.  And being this person in that world was - well, weird.

It made the neighborhood - all that I remember, all that I liked - seem sad and lonely.  I'm in such a lovely place in my life and being back there made me feel... well, not quite guilty for being happier - but something like that.  Something that I didn't like feeling.

Strange how the physical world can have such an impact on your emotional world.

03 December, 2010


"His love of music shimmers off of him."

Julia Cameron

My husband is a musician.
He oozes music.  It seeps out of him.
He cannot help himself.  It is him.  He is it.

This quote I read today, in a book all about being true to your creativity, made me think fondly of him.  And his music.  And the way it shimmers off of him.  All day long.

02 December, 2010


I had an experience dealing with 2 agents today... 2 people with the same job - in essence - with the same relationship to me and my job, yet SO different it's hard to believe my relationship to them actually was the same.  And I suppose the short answer is that, it wasn't.  It was not the same relationship.

With both agents, I discussed details of deal memos for their clients: things they wanted that I said "yes" to, things they wanted that I said "no" to - the basic conversation I have with all agents... but attitude is everything and, in this case, it caused an absolutely lovely exchange between myself and one agent and an absolutely frustrating one with the other.

It was a lesson learned - rather, reinforced - for me in how I should deal with others.  A reminder of how far simple pleasantries can go.

01 December, 2010


You could not presume to know 
what life was or what it might hold. 
by Kim Edwards

This morning, I began again.  Morning Pages.  A tool created by a woman I admire.  I've done this many times before - always drifting away, and always coming back.  It's a lesson in the written word.  Written - not typed.  Using a notebook.  And a pen.  Remember those?

So a notebook is what I sought out.  And memory is what I found.  In a small pink leather-bound book with "Journal" etched on the cover, I discovered a page from June 2006 with a list of "the things I'd like to be more disciplined about"...

Practicing piano
Taking voice lessons
Taking dance/aerobic classes
Daily yoga & meditation
Writing more often
Watching less television
Listening to more music
Working less often
Being outside more often
Eating more consciously
Living a purer lifestyle

Funny how over 4 years later, I still want to be more disciplined about these things!  At least I still want the same things - I guess that means these are actions that truly do make my soul happier.  Let's get started then, eh?