Ch..Ch..Ch… Changes

I like to keep limber and flexible -

versatile you might say -

so I’m shifting my blog once again to Blogger.

Here’s the new link:

http://emma-intothewest.blogspot.com

Come visit!

ps~

if you’re subscribing … don’t forget to change it …

A New Song

It’s mid morning, and I’m sipping Ravensbrew organic coffee – so far, one of my favorites. My guitar, which usually lives leaning quietly against the wall has been out and about since I started taking lessons with my friend, Dan. The last time I took lessons was in 1972 and my teacher was drafted to Vietnam.

I’m a pretty good guitarist … I can sight-read classical music as long as there aren’t too many sharps or flats, I know all the chords and can easily play most music that you’d put in front of me. But … I don’t know how to create – how to improvise. I never learned/understood the theory beneath the music.

At my first lesson we spent a bit of time evaluating my skills (I would say I’m a good mechanic but not (yet?) an artist) and then talking about some of the basic theory. I got it! By the end of the first lesson, I was improvising just a little bit. I saw ‘the light’ … once you know and understand the theory, you don’t have to wait for an inspirational miracle … you don’t have to wait to channel it from the beyond … you just take the basic knowledge and play with it.

My first longer-range goal is to put together a set of folk and classical to play at an open mic.

That’s just one of the new songs that are playing in my life right now. Last week I made the difficult and necessary decision to step off the board of the arts foundation. There are some deep problems in the organization that are currently expressed through a financial crisis. The longer term vision is a beautiful one .. but I’m not sure if it’s one that can be achieved. My own vision for the foundation found some support, but not enough to shift its momentum.

The arts foundation was one of the first true personal connections that I made in Butte. Dan was my first real friend here – we chatted together every Saturday and Sunday through that first winter when I traveled from Dillon to Butte as he served me lattes and introduced me to the other customers who drifted in and out through the days. The people of and involved with the foundation are the basis of a greater part of my personal community now. It’s a difficult decision to walk away from something you love, still, because you know that your involvement is no longer a benefit to them or to you.

My time and energy have been freed up in expected and unexpected ways. I knew that part of the decision was to make more time for my thesis (which I am loving!). But, it’s also freed up time and energy to play – hanging out with friends, playing my guitar, visiting new places.

Some of the ‘new’ songs are old ones – like playing the guitar – it’s a visit to the past to bring that pleasure into the present. I’ve returned to a yoga practice and find that the movements and meditations are deeper and more free than ever before.

My life is settling into a summer rhythm – work at the watershed committee, research for my thesis, time and space to relax, to play, to enjoy. Friends that I’ve made over the past year are eager to share their Montana with me – so I’ll visit Yellowstone, I’ll be going floating on the Jefferson River soon, gentle hikes in new places, visits to other places around the state – or bbq’s in neighbor’s yards. Life is pretty darn good.

Cousins

My friends have been encouraging me to rise with the sun … at 5:30 am … but I keep missing it by an hour or so on either side.

One on side are the hot flashes – when I leap from my bed around 4am many mornings feeling like an erupting volcano shedding heat in every direction. This morning I hurried out to the porch, threw open the window, and let the winds run havoc through the apartment. I wonder what the summer will be like, when there are no cooling winds.

On the other side of sunrise are the neighborhood dog packs. Just across the alley to the east are two sets of dogs – four in all … behind me to the south is another set of two … and to the west I hear that neighbor has five. They conspire to bark in shifts 24 hours each day. It’s my neighbors to the south that awaken me around 6 or 6:30 each morning with a shrill Pomerian yipping a counterpoint to the larger buddy in the yard … the northern set of eastern neighbors are the daytime barkers – alerting us all to each and every person, dog, cat, pigeon, and sparrow that might pass by. And then, my favorites, the night barkers – they can start barking anytime from 11pm on through about 4am. Sometimes they’re out there for an hour or more without stopping … other times its just five minutes -but then there’s the anticipation of wondering … are they really done? Some subset of the western quintet has recently taken to howling between 8 and 10 am. They are all consistent … I’ll give ‘em that.

I thought about moving … but the only way to get away from the dogs in Butte is to leave Butte entirely – so I’m teaching myself to allow it to be part of the background of my life – like the sparrows, the winds, and the fire sirens.

This weekend I’m heading over to Yellowstone for a few days. I’m hoping to see the wild cousins of my neighbors and the tamer cousins of the volcano.

Honeymoon

Well, my honeymoon with Butte and Montana is over.

You know how it is when you fall in love … every moment with the Beloved is filled with joy and every moment away from the Beloved is filled with anticipation. It’s a marvelous feeling.

And then, one day, you wake up and you see it all. You see that he picks his nose and farts, he has terrible taste in clothes, and his jokes aren’t really that funny. Like Titania waking in the morning with Bottom in her bower – you see that you’ve fallen in love with an ass. The honeymoon is over and the journey of your relationship diverges – there are three paths you can take…

You can sigh, look and around and think “well, everyone else is in relationship with an ass … I may as well be too” and you can fall into a numbness without love, passion, or connection….

You can focus on the nose, the farts, the clothes and the jokes .. the toothpaste cap, the dirty dishes, the poor taste in TV shows .. and you can fall into the horror of having loved an ass – anger, hatred, and volatile breakups are at the end of this path.

Or … you can realize that when you take the whole of the Beloved – the joy and anticipation, the laughter and long conversation – the farts, and the nose, the jokes and the clothes – and you can say – I love that ass … this is the path of a mature love.

And so – a few days ago I took my newly repaired car out for a drive far from Butte – and I found that I was no longer in raptures over the landscapes, the mountains, the rivers, the sky. I found that the unbounded joy had settled down … the honeymoon was over and I was left with a simple, deep, and quiet appreciation.

For me, this place in space .. and in time .. its not perfect. I see the good and beautiful – the bad and the ugly – and still – I love it. Not with rapturous vapors – but with a simple and solid appreciation. Perhaps, the best kind of love there is.

Bends in the river

Last Tuesday I worked from home because of the weather – snow, wind, sleet, and cold.  Yesterday and today I’m working from home because of the weather – heat, wind, heat … heat.

No .. it’s not that hot – low 80s – it’s just the sudden change that I’m struggling with.

I forget how much of an influence the outer world has on my inner world until I’m faced with sudden change. The sun … clouds … temperatures … people … how often/how long I take the time to walk, to play, to work, to sing, to write, to visit with friends. When its all flowing – when the shifts are ‘natural’ and gradual – then I adapt, easily – quickly. But when there’s a sudden bend in the river of life – I’m sometimes thrown out of my little boat of comfort and familiarity.

That’s okay.

This summer has a decidedly different rhythm from last year. My time is filled from morning til night. All of it – my choices. All of it – following my interests. All of it – allows for many opportunities to hit on sudden bends in the river.

I realized that I’ve been allowing these situations to throw me out of balance far more often than I like – so I’ve also chosen to … slow down. I’m still busy from morning til night – and – I take time to stretch, meditate, pray – I talk time to walk slowly, to enjoy an unexpected conversation, to watch the ravens as they play with the winds.

No Offense

Let it go

Outside my south-facing window, the sky is softly glorious in the pastels of a cold, late-spring sunset … outside my east-facing window, the clouds have settled atop the East Ridge, hiding the rising full moon, for the moment. I trust that she will shine out as the evening passes into night.

This is a time of night that I’m usually out on ‘my’ trail, witnessing the rhythms and cycles of this beautiful world with the fresh air flowing past me, but, I’m not. I’m snug inside my little apartment for the first time in … well … it feels like forever. My new musical love – Harry Manx – is playing quietly … Don’t Forget to Miss Me, Coat of Mail, and Baby Please Don’t Go … raga blues.

The past two weeks, and more, have flown by me – passing in a stiff wind of busy-ness. I remember writing here back in March something to the effect that I could do anything for two months … I was talking about the responsibilities I had taken on myself with school, work, foundation, etc. It was true – I could do … and I did.

I talked to a fellow student yesterday, complaining just a little bit, and she said that the past years she spent in grad school while working a full-time job and pursuing her own interests in art and music were “hard … really hard … maybe the hardest thing she’s ever done”.  She’s never given birth, nor raised or child. That was hard .. really hard. This comes in with a close second. She is right.

My life … my choices … they have taken up all my attention. All of it. I’m not complaining (much) – I have enjoyed it for the most part. I have learned and grown. Grown a little softer in some ways – and harder in others. Certainly, I’m much more aware of things I’ve never had to pay attention to – though I admit to an ongoing naivete. Alas. It’s something that I’ll probably carry with me down through the rest of my years.

There are friends out celebrating tonight. The semester is over and many of them graduate tomorrow. I wish I was out with them … I’d like to celebrate my accomplishments and theirs, but I’m completely exhausted. Since I got home from work this afternoon, I can barely keep my eyes open for more than a few minutes.

It’s amazing what you can do when it’s necessary. Up early in the morning and go.. go.. going ’til late, late at night. Not once have I felt as tired as I have this evening. But, now I have permission – from myself – to relax and rest. When I realized I was too tired to knit – I laughed and lay down on the couch, and listened to the music that flowed by on Pandora radio. I let it all go.

I’m not entirely done with my semester, there’s one more assignment I’d like to get done this weekend. But, if I still need to rest – I will. I can. I can let it all go and open myself up to what’s coming next.

TwiLight

Twilight falls … snow falls … darkness and cold arrive on my doorstep. Inside, I spin and turn from task to task, project to project. I take out soup and three hours later, realize I have forgotten to heat it … eat it.

I can feel my life shifting into a new season – just as spring is out there … waiting in the wings. She will arrive and unfold into the lilacs, the lillies, the robins, the ravens. She will spread her warmth throughout the land, and we will rejoice – quietly or boisterously – as is our nature and our will.

I will unfold also – I am uncertain of what awaits me in the wings – it is shadowed and limned …

PreJudge

This is the first night this week that I haven’t been out at meetings til 10pm… 11pm… 12am.  I love the spaciousness of Montana – and … that does mean that to go to a meeting in Jackson or Twin Bridges you’ve got an hour … hour and a half … just to get there.

Quiet hovers in my home – outside it’s finally full dark – and although there is still much to do before the semester ends – right now – I feel unpressured to be doing.  I can simply be -

The meetings this past week were educational forums for the watershed committee about floodplains, river migrations and avulsions, and I am learning so much.  Yes, I’m learning quite alot about the river – and – I’m learning so much more about the people.

Ranchers head over to these meetings straight from the corral or out of the field while they were in the midst of calving.  Representatives from local businesses, river guides, planning boards, other watershed committees, fish, wildlife and parks, water comissioners stroll in the doors, pour a cup of coffee and vist with their friends, neighbors, and allies.  They listen to the presenters with great attention and respect.  They think carefully, they ask questions, they make suggestions.  They care.

I had dinner this evening with two of my classmates .. one will continue on through the program with me, and the other defended her thesis today.  We went to the Uptown Cafe to celebrate – her success and our perseverance.  Scattered around the dining room were our friends, our neighbors, our professors, our allies in daily life.  At one point we talked about the finer aspects of prejudice – and how we can uncover the layers that are less noticeable but more pervasive.

One friend talked about uncovering a layer of unrecognized prejudice when she was talking with a seatmate on a recent plane flight – she surprised herself in being surprised that this black woman was a doctor. She told us, I thought…”What are the chances that a black woman would be a doctor” … and then I realized, the chances are pretty good.

I think that if I had come in to this job any sooner, I would have been working with many more prejudices that come from being an Easterner. In the east we talk fast … we think fast … we interrupt one another … we stop listening as soon as we figure out what we want to say.  We think this shows how smart we are.

These people speak quietly, deliberately, slowly.  They pause, they consider, they continue to follow the thread of their thoughts.  Sometimes, those thoughts meander and take many side-channels – like the river itself.  What I found to be so wonderful was how everyone else … listens.  They lean forward, just a bit more.  They are quiet, respectful.  When the speaker finishes … they wait, gather their own throughts, before raising a hand to answer a question, to bring the conversation one step further.  These people are damn smart.

I try not to pre-judge people, situations, experiences.  I try to stay in the moment and allow it to take me to a place of truth.  It’s important to me to allow others the time and space and trust to unfold, to reveal themselves as they truly are.  Usually, it’s something quite beautiful.

Performing

I’ve never thought of myself as a performer – not so comfortable in front of crowds – not really needing/wanting the approval of others.  As a writer, a poet, even in my limited capacity as a musician – I’m mostly doing it for me – for the satisfaction that I feel in the creative process – and the audience is secondary.

Writing this blog, I think, has begun to change that.  I’m not writing for me most of the time – I’m writing to communicate somehow with you – whoever you may be – and of the ones I know – you’re a really diverse group of people.  Yet, you come to find something in common through reading these words – many, many words – and then you go off into your own lives – changed in some small way.

Last night was my third poetry palooza and it was a performance, for the first time.  I had four poems (I’ll put them in the “my poems” section) and my friend Dory played his native american flute as an accompaniment/enhancement of my words.  Interestingly, my performance was less about the audience than it was about the gentle conversation between Dory and me.  I found myself smiling quite alot.  I want to do more of it!

I received compliments last night – but – we poets all compliment one another – sometimes we’re complimenting the way the poems have moved us – and sometimes we’re complimenting the willingness to expose the creative self.

This morning I took a quick walk on the trail to wake myself up and get ready for a load of work this weekend.  About halfway down, a young woman was jogging with her dog.  She slowed, greeted me, and then stopped me.  She had been at the palooza last night – she recognized me! – and spoke with me a few minutes about how much she appreciated my performance.  Wow!  So cool.  I encouraged her to join us next time – and to consider doing some of her poems at our monthly open mic nights. She was part of a diverse audience coming together to listen to others – and she was one of those who went off into her own life – changed in some way.

Just before I saw her, I had written a new poem in my mind – I’m already getting ready for the next palooza.