Writing my biography

I hate writing my own biography.

It makes me feel inadequate, though I know it shouldn't.

While I'm grateful for the experiences I've had, I don't like writing them down in one place as if to convince people that my contribution to my field of expertise is limited to what's on my resume. It's one part of being a professional that I really struggle with.

Why I Stopped Blogging

When I 'remembered' my blog a couple months ago, I was a bit puzzled as to why I ever stopped. Did I stop thinking critically about life? Did insecurity sweep away my confidence to share what I wanted to? Did work demands steal my consciousness so much that I couldn't focus on peripheral, analytical thinking? While the answer may possibly be "yes, a little" to each of these, I have to say that none of these reasons hold up as the sole proponent of my blogging cessation.

Do you know what it was? I just figured it out: I got an iPhone in 2011. Literally the week after I wrote my last post that year. 

Before the iPhone, I had to go to my computer to do anything online. That also meant time spent away from the computer was truly time spent away. In between rehearsals, while waiting for this or that thing, my thoughts were left to manifest, for me to chew on what plagued, intrigued, or pressed at me. But since the iPhone, I find myself constantly connected to this superficial world, my mind interrupted by mundane status updates and emails - almost constantly.

This scares me, yet I know it to be true.

I still have the iPhone...and I have grown to hate it. And depend on it. I hate how emails are constantly tugging at me. I get stressful emails that remind me of the weight of responsibility basically every hour. Facebook is an addiction that is so superfluous, yet so regular, that I find it hard to break away. 

That is not the life I want. That is not the mind I want.

And while it doesn't really matter whether I blog or not, it does matter what I do with my mind...and my life. I have a strong conviction to be a consistent learner, observer, and thinker. Blogging, for me, was an outward sign that those things were happening internally. I don't want to be a radical who says that I can't do anything that distracts, or anything that doesn't have profound meaning. I want to learn the art of moderation in most things, as that is where I believe there is freedom. But in this case, I find it hard to resist the temptation to engage in meaningless, or moment-stealing, mind-disracting behaviors that come from the use of this piece of technology.

Today I don't have any other conclusions to draw other than what I've said. I'm still figuring it out. 

Overextended

o·ver·ex·tend

ˌōvər.ikˈstend

verb

1. 1. impose on (someone) an excessive burden of work or commitments.
       "She should not overextend herself with work as much as she does"

Or, another way to put it: When you crave time off in the worst way because you're so busy, but when it comes, you can't enjoy it because there's simply too much to do. 

I remind myself all of the time that this is just a season. It's a crazy ride - this whole "doing school and work at the same time" thing. Yet, I always seem to choose paths that are not typical. I didn't just study music in high school, I embraced absolutely every opportunity I could, making myself insanely saturated and busy. I moved 2k miles away from home for school, even though I was pegged as a homebody. I way over-did it as an undergrad, sometimes causing my friends to remind me how selfish it caused me to be. I married 5 days after college graduation. That was pretty stressful. My husband and I went through graduate school at the same time. Most people advise against something like that, though we survived just fine. I gave birth then began teaching college classes 5 weeks later. I began work on a DMA in spite of having a young child and a full-time job. If I let myself be honest, then I have to say I enjoy these challenges. I feel pushed to my limits, farther beyond what even I think I can do. Then, when I achieve my goals, the taste of those achievements is sweeter than anything. Well, sweeter than most things.

In spite of this, I hope that, after this DMA season is over, I learn to slow down, to enjoy life at a predictable and reasonable pace. I think my husband, daughter, and body will thank me.

For now, I navigate the crazy schedules, performance and work demands, and eye twitches one day at a time. 

Pumpkins and New England Autumns

It's fall, and it's America. That means pumpkin carving, among other things.

Each year, my kid's interest in tradition makes holidays all the more exciting from my perspective. I hope she grows up to appreciate the change in seasons, and the fun celebrations that go along with. I could take or leave halloween, but I love autumn in New England. Celebrating this season should be a requirement for New England residents. I digress.

Salem in the fall

We recently took a trip to the pumpkin patch and selected four pumpkins (it was really just a grassy area on a farm where they placed pumpkins). Farms in New England are so fun!

They were the perfect addition to our front porch. 

We had a storm that ripped through town. Leaves fell everywhere, which was kind of a bummer, but it checkered the sidewalks so beautifully. I snapped this pic while walking through my neighborhood.

Unfortunately the storm caused a lot of problems for us. A huge tree uprooted and fell on local power lines, knocking out our power twice in 48 hours, the first outage lasting 24 hours. That was awful...okay, it was actually kind of fun. :-) But it did make a mess of our front porch!

We also had a blast carving the pumpkins as a family. Kaitlin is too little to do the knife carving herself, so she was a great little cheerleader. 

And finally, I tried my hand at roasting pumpkin seeds for the first time! We had them three ways - salted, "spanish" style with smoked paprika, and "bbq" style with brown sugar, chipotle pepper powder and cumin. So delicious!

After a three year hiatus

A lot has happened in the three years since I quit writing on this blog. And I don't know if continuing it is something I want to do. But after reading many of these posts, I'm reminded of a quote my high school English teacher gave us: "We all have stories. Stories are all we have." My stories may not be valuable to everyone, but one story may be valuable to someone. Hence, this post.

It's 2014, and many things are still the same. I'm still gainfully employed, Matt is at the same job, Kaitlin is still our only child - though now 5 and in kindergarten; We still own the same condo I wrote about all those years ago, we drive the same vehicles, and even my cats are the same. Casper peed on our clothes yesterday, for example. Thanks, Casper.

Yet much has changed. We moved to the neighboring town and bought a home that had every element on a "wish list" I put together. We are enjoying a social and beautiful neighborhood, and built a swing set outside where Kaitlin loves to play with the neighbors. I began a doctoral program and have been picking away at that. When people ask, I tell them I'm on the "we don't talk about how long it will take" track. With much discipline and intentionality on her parents' part, Kaitlin overcame some fairly significant behavioral problems (aka tantrums) and is thriving in school. We became founding members of a church on the North Shore and have watched in awe as our lonely situation became one full of community and love.

Not all has been peachy. I've battled anxiety and stress more in the past year than any other time in my life. Uncertainties about my future have mounted up, and job security is a real concern. I've struggled with profound questions about being an academic, performer, mother, wife, and student all at the same time. I still don't have answers. A month ago I spent a day at the hospital after a prolonged charley horse in my rib cage area - doctors thought it was a blood clot but it was just a horrible cramp that wouldn't release. The cause? Dehydration. Stress. Neglect. Nobody is surprised, but it was really the culmination of a prolonged, copious amounts of never ending responsibility.

Truth is, I don't really know what I'm doing. I'm just a girl-turned-woman who is on this journey with so many others. But I do have a story to tell. So for now, I'm back to tell those stories between the chaos of life. Feel free to join me.