create

Just Breathe

/ Kennedy Farr / Leave a comment

This is such a lovely and wonderful song.  Every time I listen to it, I am reminded to Just Breathe.

Today, just breathe in the moment and “count on both hands”  your blessings of appreciation and gratitude.

Click on the link below for today’s journal entry.

Count on both hands. 10 things of appreciation.

toaster ovenWhile you are journaling, please, listen to this beautiful song by Eddy Vedder.  It is inspiring in that quiet, rich way that leads you to look a little deeper for all of the beauty that is hidden in each and every moment.  Happy journaling!

And I appreciate YOU for visiting The Unseen Words Project today.  You make such a difference in my day!

Fearless or Irresponsible? Living In the Overlap.

/ Kennedy Farr / Leave a comment

For whatever reason, I was thinking today about a time in my life when I was acting quite irresponsibly.  At least that is how it must have appeared from an outsider’s perspective.  To me, and with a goodly measure of hindsight, what felt to be intrepid was probably pretty rash.  And maybe even a little naive and dumb.

I was also thinking today about times in my life when I was acting quite fearlessly and how life was just one long ride of incredible excitement.  Every day was new and different and challenges abounded as a result of this fearlessness.  I was riding a big wave and somehow managing to stay on the board.  I look back and think, Huh.  How did that even work?  

Fearless?  Irresponsible?  Is there even a line between the two?  Maybe life is one big Venn diagram . . . a symbol of where we place our confidence in life, in love, in ourselves.  I don’t know.  In that we are never completely aware of the full consequences of our actions, it is unclear as to how willy-nilly my behavior truly was.  And continues to be.  Still, it seems to be true that all kinds of crazy and dumb can lead to positive outcomes.  It sometimes comes down to the question of What we are willing to do for the pursuit of love and happiness?  What kind of risk are we willing to take?

Click on the link below and print out this journaling exercise.  Do some free associating with the diagram.  I’m not suggesting any empirical outcome.  I am simply asking you to consider that what you might carry as a regret might not have been as dumb and irresponsible as you think it was or is.

Life happens.  Consider the alternative.  I’d rather be living in the Overlap or even the Outer Fringes . . . knowing that I am willing to take the risk to try.  Just try.

Fearless or Irresponsible. Living in the Overlap.

[Three-hole punch this exercise and put it in your special journaling binder.  It is so rewarding to look back over writing that is honest and that encourages you to grow.  My journaling friends all say that they are glad they have saved their writing in one binder or notebook.  They also say that they are happy that they dated their writing and recorded their location.  You might be in the park, at your desk, or on a ferry.  You might be on an exotic vacattoaster ovenion or you might be waiting for your laundry to finish drying at the laundromat.  No matter where you are when you are recording your thoughts and feelings, when re-reading your entries at a later date . . . your spatial memory will trigger the Feelings of Epiphany you felt when you were discovering your Voice and your Truth.  Happy writing!]

 

What is that one thing?

/ Kennedy Farr / Leave a comment

What is that one thing —  that if you don’t do it everyday — you don’t feel quite right?

Running, playing music, hiking, taking pictures, gardening, speed skating, reading, playing water polo, geocaching, scrapbooking, quilting, rock climbing . . . What if no one had ever invented or discovered your passion?  Would you feel the gap?

It does seem that so many of the things that we love to do are derived from prior necessity. Someone had to learn to sew skins together to stay warm and someone else had to run to chase the herd or dodge enemies.  Someone wanted to climb cliffs to harvest eggs and someone else figured out a way to record stories with symbols in order to preserve them from disappearing.

So many of the things we love to do have a connection to the Mother of Invention.  And then I think about needlepoint or rock polishing or yarn bombing or collecting Beanie Babies or toy voyaging?  Could you live without Extreme Ironing?  Is ironing cloth while kayaking that one thing that you would just feel weird not doing every day?  This is not to diminish another’s passion — I celebrate creativity! . . . I just wonder about the evolution of the soul’s striving to express itself in modern times.  Viva la difference!  And bring the iron aboard, Matey!

We do, make, collect, expand, display, and learn.  My interests feel fairly global.  Nothing too over the top.  They are simple: Writing.  Painting with acrylics and junk jewelry and gauze.  Playing music.  Sharing with and laughing with my Sweetheart.  Dancing.  Researching the limbic system.  Going out for Happy Hour with friends.  Taking pictures with my new and awesome camera.  Walking my dog on the trail.  Pretty basic things, actually.  But I would feel really unsettled if I didn’t have these experiences in my life.  How much of what we do, we do because our soul just doesn’t feel right if we don’t do it?  Surely there is enough time in the days.  At least this is what I want to believe.

These questions came to mind as a result of a trip to the vacuum-cleaner-bag store — which also sells sewing machines and fabric.  The salesperson, Donna, was so enthusiastic about helping me, I asked her, “What is it you like about your job?”  Donna responded by saying, “I get to be around what I love.  I get to help people with their sewing projects and then I feel inspired.”  She went on to say that her husband had built a room onto their house so she would have a dedicated sewing room.  She  said, “If I didn’t sew every single day, I wouldn’t feel right.”

Wow.  I went in search of Type A vacuum bags and left with a good dose of inspiring enlightenment.  Her passion for sewing was so evident and inspiring.  I wondered to myself, “What is it that I wouldn’t feel right not doing every day?  What would I do without _________?”

It is a good question.  Since meeting Donna, I have been consciously investing time in those things that really make me happy.  Prioritizing that which I naturally love to experience.  I love dedicating Sunday afternoons reflecting and journaling with my two best-est friends.  I really miss dancing if I don’t go at least once a week.  Twice is better. Thrice is the trifecta for my week.  If I don’t get paint on my hands at least once a month, I get restless.  I can’t imagine not laughing with my Sweetheart when we are together.  If I don’t write every single day, I feel weird.

Surely, this is what Donna was talking about.  If we don’t answer to our own selves, than we aren’t going to feel connected to Self at the end of the day.  Like there is some unfinished business just wanting to be completed — something that spills over into the next day . . . and the next. Like some creativity that is wanting to be expressed in 3-D on canvas.  Those running shoes that want to commit some memory to pavement.  Some invention that is simply nagging to be discovered.  Some research that is demanding a question to be answered.

It is like hearing an added sixth chord on a piano.  Would someone, anyone (!), go and resolve the dissonance, please?  Suspense is greatly (!) appreciated in jazz and in life but do allow me to experience a classical resolve as well.  I love that feeling of returning home.

What is it that you so love to do, if you don’t pay it any heed, you don’t feel quite right?  What is preventing you from embracing it and having some fun with it?  I am beginning to suspect that we are born with a compass of passion — that instrument within that guides us to do that which feeds our souls.  I love playing music and when I don’t prioritize it, something is out of balance.  I seek the resetting of my inner compass that will point me back home to that place of consonance.

 

Try Something New: Enforced Restfulness

/ Kennedy Farr / 2 Comments

My Try Something New today: contentment in enforced restfulness.

If you light a lamp quote

The story of my past few days has allowed for some enforced restfulness.  What I have learned is that as much as I say I want a peaceful and quiet and tranquil life in the midst of my self-made chaos . . . there is another part of me that craves the hub-bub, the drama, the go-go-go, the challenges at work, the randomness of just wandering with no projected outcomes, the movement that gives me inspiration to create and to laugh and to love.

This enforced restfulness has given me time to just be with me.  And it has been nice.  And it has also been not so nice.  The nice parts have given me an opportunity to observe and take note of what runs through my mind when I am not thinking of what I am going to do next.  I am just being in the Now.  Just chilling and petting the cat and figuring out inversions on the  piano and stir-frying onions and garlic with asparagus and having long conversations on the phone with my sisters . . . this sort of thing.  I have been focusing on the simple and important things that get nudged aside or that get squeezed into the day.

The thing that has been rather bittersweet has been realizing truly how little time I create for being with me.  I find that I often am so busy projecting my light outward, I don’t replenish the source of this light within.  Again, not necessarily a bad thing . . . but  the words of my mum come to mind: Moderation in everything.  I think I have been putting too much time into outward and not into inward.

In high school art class, I was given a calligraphy assignment.  I was to find a proverb or quote and write it using the calligraphy style of my choice.  Wanting it to be perfect and vintage-y, I procrastinated and I remember spending more time ultimately looking for a short quote that would satisfy the assignment than I did practicing my lettering.   The quote was short, but compelling.  I knew it had a lot to say, even though I wasn’t quite certain what it exactly meant at the time.  It reads: “Contentment is the absence of selfish ambition.”  Quite the dose of profundity in only seven words.  No wonder it befuddled my teen-aged mind.  It still sort of does.

What this enforced restfulness has done is it has slowed me to a place of seeking contentment.  By replenishing, I have refilled the lamp, trimmed the wick, and polished up the chimney.  How is my little light going to shine if I don’t take the time to fill the lamp?

I also know that this time to myself has created deep appreciation for all of those people who shine their light my way — for their “absence of selfish ambition” — for sharing who they are with me so selflessly.

Am I committed to take more time to just think and to be and to not be doing all of the time?  Yes. Am I ready to resume my days at the speed of light?  Yes.   But this has been good.  Good for realizing that I am paying attention and wanting a life with a balance of contentment that generates and receives light and that puts a smile back into my soul and that not just enforces restfulness but embraces it as well.

 

Are you waiting for the right moment?

/ Kennedy Farr / 2 Comments

 

Writing prompt: Are you waiting for the right moment to do that exact thing that you want to be doing?  Learning?  Exploring?

If you are waiting, stop.  And then start.  Start.  Do something.  Do anything.  Do one little thing that will point your compass in what you think might be the right direction.  Point it in any direction.  After all, the Universe has no map.  There is no GPS for navigating Infinity.  And it is all out there — all right here — just waiting for you to start.  At the very least, put on a blindfold, spin yourself around a few times, and start moving.  You never know which donkey is going to to get a start from you pinning a tail onto its hindquarters.

 

Simple for me to say.  I was talking to someone today who is wanting to lose weight.  She said, “Something can be simple but still so hard to do.”  I thought that this was a really profound statement.  It can be both.  But it need not be.  Or does it?

A small-scale example: I would love to have one of those garages in which I can park my truck.  The outlines of wrenches and saws and C-clamps all Sharpied on a piece of pegboard.  Bicycles hanging from racks.  Holiday paraphernalia stacked in clear, plastic tubs out of the way in the corner.  It all sounds so lovely.  And so simple.  And so hard, too.

Instead, it is all quite the jumble.  Not entirely unmanageable.  I can get to the fuse box and can find a hammer when I want to hang a picture on the wall.  I don’t know.  I am most likely being too hard on myself.  I tell the people who come to visit, “Don’t look in the garage!” but it does indeed seem like a paradox to be embarrassed by my own stuff.  There is something about this that doesn’t quite resonate with a sense of balance.  It is like wanting to distance myself from the choices I have made.

I clearly do not feel that having an amazingly organized garage is going to make me a better human being.  And it is not important enough to forfeit a sunny afternoon down by the bay.  And the time it would take to sift through the dust, memories, cobwebs, and paperwork isn’t worth not meeting friends for dinner or spending some time playing piano or taking my easel out to the back deck for some color therapy.

Is starting (and stopping) all about listening to our priorities?  Is what we truly want so evident and transparent to our Sense of Priority, that we don’t really have to think in any conscious way when we point the compass in a new direction.  Some call it procrastination, but I am wondering if procrastination is nothing more than your soul allowing your priorities to have control of the throttle.  My overall conclusion: procrastination is possibly being unfairly reviled by those who have all of the plans mapped out.  I am thinking that it is okay sometimes to turn off the Garmin and just do some meandering.

It is tricky to avoid mixing my metaphors when it comes to the universal sense of time and life lessons.  A compass, a map, GPS, a blindfold, a game about a donkey, an airplane’s cockpit.   No wonder I lose my path — my trajectory.   I’m all over the place!  Yet . . .all of these signs along the road.  All of these maps that point us in this direction and that direction. . . when all of what we truly and most dearly want stems from our inner world — our soul, our conscience, our spirit.

So, what is it that you are aiming for?  What is it that would be just so much fun to be experiencing right now?  Be fearless, put your compass in your pocket, don your blindfold, pick up your thumb tack and paper donkey tail, spin around, and start pinning that tail on whatever suits your fancy.  Pull back on the throttle and fly.  You never know.  Truly.  The Universe has a distinct way of rewarding our sometimes-fallible attempts to better enrich and experience life.

Thomas Edison said it so beautifully: “To invent you need a good imagination and a pile of junk.”  Love this!  This man would not be judging my garage or my sense of priority!  His words put my garage into perspective and get me outdoors on a sunny day.  Time to quit beating myself up, allow my imagination to soar, and enjoy inventing with the “pile of junk” in the garage.

thomasaedison125362 (1)

 

 

 

Walking Tall (with a little dog)

/ Kennedy Farr / 1 Comment

My Try-Something-New today . . . walking tall.

Yesterday, I was held up in traffic.  It was a beautiful day, and I was rushing home from work to catch some evening sunshine.  Traffic started to back up, so I looked ahead and saw a very tall woman walking a very small dog at a crosswalk.  What caught my attention wasn’t that she was so tall and that the dog was so little.  It was that she was walking with great confidence and really good posture.  She was looking up.  She wasn’t rushing across the 5 lanes of traffic.  She was sauntering like she meant it, like she was paying attention.  And enjoying her stroll with her little pooch.

As traffic resumed, I thought about how poised she looked.  I have crossed in heavy traffic at crosswalks before, but I know I have done so almost apologetically — like the proverbial chicken crossing the road.  Like I am so sorry, People.  I know I am holding up traffic. I sometimes feel self-conscious.  My posture probably sucks.  Scurry scurry.  Probably my head is down, and I know that I am moving more quickly than I would if I were walking across a sunny cow field or strolling in the shade along a riverside trail.  The thought occurred: Why do I feel like such a nerd for holding up traffic? 

So, today . . . I was out walking my little dog.  I came to a crosswalk that connects the interurban trail.  I stood on the side of the busy street and  . . . the first car went blowing by.  Okay, I won’t take that personally.  The other drivers saw us, and we, my tiny and strange-looking dog and I, walked with vigor and buoyancy across the street.  Now, I am not a fraction of an inch over 5’4″ — but I felt taller.  On the inside, that is.  One driver even waved hello.  Maybe because my dog is such a weird mixture of genetics but then again maybe not.  Maybe she noticed that I was paying attention to her and not being all hurry-scurry.  We smiled at each other.  I finished crossing the street.  She drove off.

This action truly did not require any measure of courage.  To be clear, I am not paranoid about crossing the street!   But making a conscious shift in attitude is what caught my soul’s attention.  It caused me to wonder about all of those times I have felt apologetic for simply being human.  Like making a mistake at work or blurting something without thinking.  Like burning the birthday cake or backing into my neighbor’s parked car.  All of these ouch moments that only mean that I am human.

Paying attention means walking tall.  And walking tall means giving up on my apologetic default.  And giving up on my apologetic default means making small connections here and there.  It allows me to embrace that small part of myself that sometimes feels like a pain in the ass.  Maybe I am the only one who feels this way on occasion.  But there you have it.  I write this and take the risk so that it might speak to someone else who also hurries across the street.  Walk tall.

Wear who you are on the inside on the outside, too.  You are an ultra-cool person with so many experiences.  There is boldness in claiming who you are.  And rewards in looking up.   And gifts in walking tall.

It only takes one person to change your life: you, beautiful you

/ Kennedy Farr / 5 Comments

it only takes one personChange.  What does it mean?  When we change we transform something, someone, ourselves into something or someone different.

Whew.  This is quite the mouthful of limitless profundity.  Change, glorious change.  And it all starts with you.

Change is transformation.  It indicates movement and growth.  Spirals and pinwheels and vortices.  A maelstrom of tilt-a-swirl.  Sometimes, change means contributing beyond yourself.  Other times, change means discovering something really surprising about yourself.  We experience change when we laugh and when we cry. When we offer our seat to someone else on the bus.  When we say hello to the lone kite flyer in the park.  When we sell our house and try the nomadic life on for a time.  When we say yes to Adventure.  When we say no to Adventure.

No matter our perceptions of the moment, change takes us to where we are right now.

A question: Do you take change for granted?  I realize that it would be metacognitively implosive to cultivate enough mindfulness in order to keep track of all of the changes in your life, but what is your awareness of the many changes that take place in a week, a day, an hour, a snippet of a moment?  Am I paying attention to the changes in my universe?  Should I be writing them down?  Mapping them forward on life’s path?  Am I over-thinking all of this?     

One last question: Where do you want to go?  What small, sustainable change might you make today to take you where you want to go?

Wait, one last question: What is holding you back?  What is keeping you from making that change?  “It only takes one person to change your life ~ YOU.”  Have fun today appreciating the changes that you are creating and experiencing and fulfilling.

You are a beautiful person.

Are you caught in Yo-yo Land?

/ Kennedy Farr / Leave a comment

PROMPT: Is there something in your life that you keep doing over and over again — even though you say that you don’t want to do so?  Something that you know is b-a-d for you?  That is blocking your Bliss?  Is there something that you keep returning to, even though you have vowed that you never would? Are you trying to lose weight, and you have fallen victim to yo-yo dieting?  Do you keep going back to that unhealthy relationship that you know will never allow for mutual respect?  Do you return each morning to that unrewarding job with the maniacal boss?  Up and down and all around — going in loops and circles and reversals?

Is there something that you feel mysteriously and inexplicably tethered to — unconsciously or otherwise– that keeps reeling you back in?

We have all heard the metaphor that life is a river.  That you can never step into the same river twice.  That fighting the current expends a great deal of misspent energy.  That if you go with the flow, things will feel easier.  That there are eddies and currents that will befuddle your senses.  That there are drops in the river that will surprise you.  That there are Class IV rapids that will tip your raft and divest you of not only your luxuries but your essentials.  That any ol’ dead fish can float downstream — it takes a live one to go against the current.  Still waters run deep and narrow waters cut deep.  That a waterfall is the unfortunate realization that you have made one helluva big mistake and are in for the ride of your life.

You get the idea.  There are so many wowza metaphors for rivers.  Why?  Because they are cool and powerful and unpredictable and demand a great deal of respect from anyone who ventures into its current.

But a yo-yo?  Is a yo-yo cool enough to be a metaphor for life and its crazy trajectories?  Just look at the names of yo-yo tricks: the Sleeper, Rock the Baby, Breakaway, Braintwister, Man on the Flying Trapeze, Around the World, Walk the Dog, Invisi-Whip, Buddha’s Revenge.  Look at all of this coolness that can identify life’s mysteries, demonstrate really amazing skill of movement, and explain how to resolve personal problems.  Feeling stressed?  Walk the Dog.  Feeling restless?  Take a trip Around the World.  Feeling like life has become boring? Be a Woman on the Flying Trapeze.  Feeling unmotivated?  Crack the Invisi-Whip on your Sleeper.

At this point, is anyone else ready to simply drop everything and go buy a yo-yo?

As impressive as some of these tricks may appear to be, I am not so sure that I want to continually be reeled back to Point A.  Or Point B.  Or L-M-N-O-P.  Wait, I just realized: I don’t want to be the yo-yo.  I want to be the Yo-Yo Slinger.  I want to be the one spinning the yo-yo into cosmic fantastic-ness. InternetSlang.com defines YOYO as “You’re on Your Own.”  Well, we are on our own.  I am on my own, the Yo-Yo Master Herself.  Spinning tricks and following the arc.

Lest I get lost in Yo-Yo Land, I pull myself back to my original question:   Is there something in my life that I keep doing over and over again — even though I say that I don’t want to do so?  I might want to pay attention to this.  Or at the very least, get out of Reversal Mode and distract myself properly by buying a yo-yo and googling some youtube videos on how to learn some of these very cool tricks.  I might not only surprise myself with an aptitude that defies gravity but divert myself from the unhealthier tether points in my life.

So, how does The Art of Yo-Yo actually translate and guide me on the trajectory of

Life Wisdom?

  1. Around the World –> Get rid of some stuff.  A lot of stuff, actually. Be ready to travel.  And travel light.
  2. Double or Nothing –> Become more habituated to taking risks.  Try Something New every single day.
  3. Over the Falls –> While knowing that life has its share of waterfalls, do not fear the unknown around the bend.
  4. Dizzy Baby –> Don’t be fearful of the tricks of the current.  You will eventually pop out of the eddies.
  5. Stop and Go –> Take time to pay attention and cultivate mindfulness.
  6. Hop the Fence –> Jump the grooves in life.
  7. Forward Pass –> Create your own trajectories and work your own magic.
  8. Wormhole –> Be the Yo-yo Master, not the yo-yo.

 

Do you want to turn your Bad into Badass?

/ Kennedy Farr / Leave a comment

PROMPT: What is the Bad in your life?  Do you have a Bad relationship?  A Bad job?  A Bad boss?  A Bad diet?  A Bad car?  A Bad routine of predictable habit?  A Bad attitude?  A Bad whatever?  Bad, bad, bad. Why do we tend to focus on the Bad?  ayn-rand-quote

Bad can be defined in many ways: something that is inferior, unpleasant, unwelcome, deficient, miserable . . . however your soul defines it, that is what it is.  But how can you turn your Bad into Badass?

The Urban Dictionary defines badass as such:

“The badass carves his own path. He wears, drives, drinks, watches, and listens to what he chooses, when he chooses, where he chooses, uninfluenced by fads or advertising campaigns. Badass style is understated but instantly recognizable. Like a chopped Harley or a good pair of sunglasses: simple, direct, and functional.”

I love this.  It is a defining definition.  It inspires me to get off my patootie and turn things around and in new directions . . . pick up a cool pair of shades and carve  my own path.

When I googled images for Badass, all sorts of violent gestures and expressions appeared.  Vulgar gestures, mean glares, and weapons of minor and mass destruction.  This is not the idea I had in mind for turning Bad into Badass.

far from what I once wasBut I do appreciate the inspiration to Carve My Own Path.  Doing what I choose, when I choose, where I choose — all uninfluenced by trends andunsolicited opinions.  Badass speaks, but does not do so with a megaphone.  It doesn’t take any convincing or wheedling.  It simply is what it is: “. . . simple, direct, and functional.”  I’m getting there.  I’ve got this.

All of this sounds like a recipe for finding your way, discovering your feng shui –> governing your space and details and energy in ways that speak of  “understated but instantly recognizable.”  Sounds good . . . I mean . . . Badass to me.

How does this work in my real Universe?  How can I turn my daily Bad into Badass?  A few things come to mind:

  1. Speak from the promptings of your soul.  Just say Yes.
  2. Do not fear disapproval.  Rather, welcome it.  You just provided someone with the opportunity to do some critical thinking.
  3. Carve your own way.  The verb carve  has many dimensions.  Sculpt.  Create a 3-D version of your life’s Vision.
  4. Step outside your comfort zone.  You never know when you might discover the best (fill-in-the-blank) ever.
  5. Recreate with what is your creativity.  Start with your mind.  Your heart just might follow.
  6. Be willing to laugh at your efforts.  It is sometimes hard to be Badass when you are accustomed to being the Victim.
  7. Be one with your Badass.  “Be the kind of woman that when your feet hit the floor each morning the devil says:“Oh, sh#@, she’s up!” 
  8. Frank Zappa had it right: Deviate from the norm.  Make some progress that feels Badass.

without deviation from the norm. frank zappa

Who is conducting your life’s tempo?

/ Kennedy Farr / Leave a comment

PROMPT: Is there someone or something in your life that is dictating your unique tempo?  A conductor who is in charge of the baton?  What is your tempo?

Tempo is the speed at which a passage of music is (or is intended to be) played at.  The notes, the dynamics, the tempo markings on the page direct us to celebrate not only the originality of the composer but his musical imagination of time and place as well.

The conductor provides the musicians with leadership in interpreting such originality and imagination.  I would imagine that it takes a lot of skill to feel the difference between hearing a passage played in a dignified largo or in the slightly slower and overlapping tempo of larghetto — and then convey such subtlety while waving a thin stick in the air.  Pretty tricky stuff.  After all, what would it be like if the horn section was playing a piece of music larghissimo and the strings were playing the same piece vivace at the same time?  What a muddle this would be.  The equivalent of fingernails scraping  the bottom of an aluminum bread pan.  Ouch.

Dissonance would occur.  Chaos would ensue.  The music would go splat.  We would all be wishing we had brought ear plugs.  The music would be distorted and not appreciated.  The composer would be thoroughly and unfairly dissed in a review.  Mahler, Debussy, Berlioz . . . they would all be understandably ticked — their masterpieces trounced.

But life is not a symphony on the page.  It is an organic composition that we are constantly composing and conducting.  What is the tempo of this moment?  Of today? What was the tempo of this past week?  Month?  Year?  How do I want to change things up?  Do I want to change things up?  For some of us, we want to add more presto to our lento.  Others of us, more adagio to our allegro.  There are those few I know who have discovered the secret of andante, just moving along at walking pace and taking in the view.

When it comes to life and its intricate and dynamic composition, who is conducting its tempo in your life?  When do you go with the flow of things for “the sake of”  and when do you fire the conductor and make your own fun?

Some days, I feel as if there are an inordinate amount of choices to make.   Jobs to quit and moves to make.  Adventures to invite and trips to take.  Dates to accept and relationships to end.  Boundaries to set or to release.  A small and puny voice inside whispers that it would be so easy to just hand over the baton and say, “Here.  Please.  Figure it out and then direct as you see best to interpret.”

But then the question begs to be asked: Who is truly in charge here?  Who did I inadvertently or intentionally or voluntarily appoint as my life’s conductor? And who is setting my tempo?  Do I I give the stick to some self-appointed authority or do I merrily swing the baton with the wild abandon that life’s music deserves?

Whew.  Some days even the harmony and stability of consonance  do not have the seductive power to sway me away from the transitional instability of dissonance.  There is something just so seductive about eradicating the tick-tock of the metronome and marking time up and down and all around.  Swing yer partner!  [True confession: I don’t know if I am embarrassed or proud to report that I was once meanly ostracized at a square dance for having too much frivolous fun while others were trying to dance squares to the beat.  Not my best night of dancing, to be sure, and I certainly did not feel compelled to return for more free lessons.  But I did learn a lot that night: sometimes “free” costs more than I can afford.  Sometimes more than I want to afford.]

So. Continue in your tempo and ignore the conductor.  Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.  To the boyfriend who is trying to solve your life problems.  To the family member who knows what is best for you.  To the boss who thinks your creative ideas are a drain on his brain.  To the grumpy man at the square dance in the taco-shell hat and the snap-down checkered shirt with a lot of points.  To anyone who thinks that their perceptions of truth are the best match for you and your tempo.

Life is hoofing it by in prestissimo.   And there are times when I want to trade in my zen for yeehaw.  I want to break the baton over my knee, kick up my heels, and have a hoot, even when it is deemed inappropriate.  Yell “Huzzah” for no visible reasons.  Invent and claim my tempo.