The fish has returned to the water.
She has re-opened her gills and re-grown her fins.
Her appendages are weak and her body is soft.
Her will is strong and her goals clear.
Be the strongest fish in the water.
Smell like chlorine, mmmm, like coming home.
She is renewed.

I had the blessing over the last two days to spend several hours with a great friend. We don’t have the chance to see each other very often and we had time to lunch, talk, coffee, shop, and church all in one weekend. I love my gal pals. Time and geography are big hurdles to see these amazing women but I truly relish the chance to spend face time with them. No email, phone, or Facebook could ever replace time.

I am so grateful.

Every day, several times a day, I walk past a sign in my house, it says “Peace Begins with a Smile”. It is a quote from Mother Theresa and was a gift from my Uncle Michael. It is a very simple wall hanging but very important to me. My Uncle Michael was amazing. My Uncle Michael ALWAYS smiled. He always had a silly joke and would keep me, my two sisters, and five cousins laughing until we fell off our chairs.  He was the middle of five brothers and I’m the middle of not only my two sisters but also the cousins as well, so we shared a special bond in that way. Uncle Michael was also a Delesallian Christian Brother. The Brothers are a group of Catholic men across the world who devote their lives to serving others through education ministry. He had gone to school at St. Raymond’s in the Bronx where he was taught by Brothers and decided that his calling in life was to join them. He lived a life devoted to the service of others. He did not own many possessions and lived very simply. He taught science and I imagine that his classes would have been filled with wonder and laughter and a lot of smiles. He lived Mother Theresa’s quote every day to be a Peacemaker.

 

In the gospel of Matthew, we hear that Jesus goes to the top of the mountain and he speaks to the people and teaches them. “Blessed are the Peacemakers, he says, for they will be called children of God”  When I went to my bible to study this passage, The Beatitudes they are called, I found this card with a quote. The famous British peacemaker Muriel Lester who worked with people like Ghandi. She said, “The Job of the Peacemaker is to stop war, to purify the world, to get it saved from poverty and riches, to heal the sick, to comfort the sad, to wake up those who have not yet found God and to create joy and beauty where ever you go. To Find God in Everything and Everyone.

 

With so much talk of things that aren’t right in the world: wars, lost jobs, poverty, racism, persecution. It is a pretty scary task to be a Peacemaker. But it is exactly what we are called to do in the reading from Micah, “what are you to do but do justice and walk humbly with your God.” I seek a bumper sticker on cars every once and a while that says, if you want peace…work for justice. And so many famous peacemakers we know from our social studies classes did just that, worked for justice in order to promote peace…

 

Can we name some??

 

Mother Theresa and Ghandi in India, Nelson Mandela in South Africa, Martin Luther King, Aung San Suu Kyi in Burma, and even famous Celebrities  like George Clooney working for the Sudan and Bono from U2 working in Africa. or former President Clinton and his work in Africa and Haiti. And President Carter’s work with Habitat for Humanity in the US.

These people, these peacemakers come from all different walks of life, some rich, some poor, some in Asia, Africa, or the US, but all sharing the same character—to give of themselves freely to lift up others and to do so without trying to seek personal gain. They didn’t or don’t seek justice and peace in the world so they will get an award (though most of them have…the Nobel Peace Prize). They don’t do it for millions of dollars in fact we can look at examples like Gazillionaire Bill Gates giving away gazillions of dollars to strengthen health and education across the world.

 

The Peacemakers goal is not to gain glory for themselves, but to use themselves and their lives to help others. They do it because they believe that until we are all safe, fed, healthy, and free that none of us are free. So they work for justice to bring peace. And they do so humbly and without boasting.

 

When Christ walked the earth for his few short years he didn’t hang out with Kings or the rich guys. He spent his time with the weak, the poor, the sick. He preached that blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. That those who walked humbly would receive their blessings in Heaven. By living his life in service to others, he set an example and gave us the challenge to be the peacemakers.

 

Yesterday, I met with a group of St. John’s kids who spent their entire lunch and recess coming up with ideas to become peacemakers. Their goal is to become caretakers of the earth, our environment, and animals. And they spent the entire time not talking about who would get what award or who would win what party but about how they could work together to make a difference. They want to save the world and as one boy said, “make it a better place for the people who come after me.”

 

I was inspired by these Peacemakers. And they certainly left me smiling. And as Mother Theresa said, that is how peace begins.

 

Amen.

 

Disclaimer!! This post is not about barefoot running or my desire in any way to give it a try. I read Christopher McDougall’s book Born to Run this summer and while it was fascinating and interesting, it did not increase in me a desire to live like a Tarahumara. I work in a running store and love my shoes! Especially my trail shoes!

But….part way through this TedxPennQuarter talk McDougall speaks of reclaiming a joy in running. He makes a hilarious comment about those of us (ahem, ahem…) who think if we run a 4:00 marathon “we suck” but if we run 3:59:59 “we’re awesome”. His reminder about running as an act of human joy was really poignant to me right now.

I’m signed up for a few things…a 10 miler, the HAT Run (50K), and an oly. But honestly, I think I really just need to reclaim the joy of running to run; to be healthy. Not to train all the time to race to get faster and go longer, but rather run because I feel like running. I have had a plethora of weeks recently where 2-4 miles feels perfect but more than an hour feels like torture. It hasn’t always been this way, I recall times of great joy running 16+ miles with friends. But now is not that time.

I have fallen so far away from the running community that I once loved and knew and I fear that if I take one more step away from “training” that it will alienate me forever. But what is better, to run for joy or to train in misery?

Either way, I’m keeping on my nice cushy shoes.

 

“That responsibility begins not in our classrooms, but in our homes and communities. It’s family that first instills the love of learning in a child. Only parents can make sure the TV is turned off and homework gets done. We need to teach our kids that it’s not just the winner of the Super Bowl who deserves to be celebrated, but the winner of the science fair. (Applause.) We need to teach them that success is not a function of fame or PR, but of hard work and discipline.” President Barack Obama, State of the Union, January 25, 2011

This is basically my belief wrapped in a nutshell. I will say no more.

No one would deny that I am a bit of a type A. Not for everything, I am certainly not type A about my house being clean or my closet being super neat. I also have grown to live with leaving a dish or two in the sink. But, most of the time, I’m a controller. Yes, it is a fault but I like to think of it as just my commitment to doing things the best. (Who am I kidding!) Likewise, I have a tendency to keep a fairly tight schedule with work and when I can, training. I don’t take a lot of time to relax or breathe.

However, I have started to have some very interesting self-revelations as I have started lessons again. I began lessons again to try to renew my singing strength, remove bad habits, and practice music for me not just through my students. I have really loved my first few lessons. I have fought through illness and had lessons where all I do is breathe, but I feel like I have learned so much already.

One of my biggest complaints in my own singing has been the amount of tension I feel in both my breathing and my larynx as I sing anything. I constantly feel like I am not using breath effectively and that my sound is tense and strident. I have learned good strategies to improve my breathing. I have been brought to awareness of habits such as unnecessary movement in my head and lower body. (So much of the movement stems from the encouragement of movement in my students which is good, just different than solo singing habits.) Surprisingly, I have a tendency to not open my mouth enough which further tenses the sound.

What does all of this have to do with anything? Well, I believe that my difficulties and bad habits in singing are a direct reflection of my daily life. (Perhaps at this point you are saying “duh”, but we all come into our personal revelations at our own pace.) So much of the difficulty I am having resonating with a strong tone comes from my sincere desire to do it right, the first time. My incomprehensible belief that I am not allowed to fail. My attempt to be in charge of everything around me. These personality traits/habits have a direct correlation to my singing. Whoa.

So how does one fix this? Well…yoga? less stress? more patience? Or does much of this have to do with lack of faith? Does this constant need to control stem from not truly believing that God is in control?

Either way, as I begin my practice of singing at a more intense level than I have practiced in quite a while, I think I must remain vigilant about staying true to new learning and patient as I break the habits of old. This, of course, takes time. And time is a whole different post topic altogether.

For now, Norina and Clara await…

There has been a lot of talk in my life lately about traditions. I am passionate about traditions. I believe they create a sense of consistency that provides comfort and joy in one’s life. Traditions define families, special events, and create and sustain memories.

For me, I have a lot of traditions both for myself; some may call them routines, but I think they are traditional things. For example, before every marathon, I tie my shoes early and then re-tie them from the starting line or chute. In the last five years, I have gone running before every evening concert except last week’s where we canceled the show. In November every year, 3rd graders learn about courage through Handel and in January, they get their very first recorder.

But it is the traditions of family that mean the most to me. They almost always have to do with food, which is not particularly surprising for anyone who knows my family. I love the act of cooking holiday meals with the women in my family. It provides a source of many fun stories and a time where any familial discord seems to cease. I love the Christmas morning traditions; the food, music, and way we open presents. The constant flow of movie quotations and a speech pattern not completely understood by outsiders. This has all changed so much in the last few years. I wish so deeply to keep as much of this as possible. In the whirlwind of change and loss, these are the things to which I cling.

Some have said to me, “traditions can change” or “nothing has to stay the same”. This upsets me, as if somehow I was the only one who felt the importance of these things. As if somehow, if I want to stay in the family, I have to go along with everyone else’s willingness to so easily dump things we once loved and held dear. As usual, I have no solutions for what I see as a devastating problem. So for now, I only hope that at least some things could remain the same, for the sake of remembering the good.

I’m certainly not a Jewish father in Russia at the turn of the last century, but I am pretty sure Tevye understands my point.

May you keep your beloved traditions this season with those you hold dear.

The boxes are being packed.
32 years of life sorted and wrapped.
Bits of life that should have been tossed long ago, but now has its fate sealed for eternity in peanuts and packing tape.
As if a time capsule of our lives was being built only to never be opened again.

The cords have unraveled.
It has been a journey on the slow road to unwind and find the way free of the knotted tether.
Could they have possibly come apart before, of course, but the threads held out as long as they could.
And now they are unraveled.

Can we pull out that doorway.
The one that documented our upward rise.
To freeze in time the moments we felt would last forever.
But they are written in pencil.
Another memory to fade or be erased.

How I wish I could take those cords.
Wind them back into place with the same clear adhesive that holds our locked treasures
To solve the problems of broken hems and un-patched knees.
But they have, at last, unraveled.

Most of my posts in the last few years have focused on running and not the sing portion of RunSingTeach. This is not one of those posts…today, I shall focus on singing.

For years I have been sharing with my friends and family that I want to take lessons again. In the ten years since I graduated college, I have sung a bit with a variety of choral groups but not taken lessons or sung solo work. Ten years of bad singing habits and singing with lovely small humans every day has taken its toll. It is finally time. I have taken the leap and in September, I began lessons again.

From the start, I was quite nervous. I wasn’t sure how much dust would have to come off and how many poor habits would need to be broken. To my dismay, it is quite a bit. I have had six lessons and literally had a lesson where I did not sing one note. I am renewing my understanding of posture and breathing as well as what it means to truly find good resonance. I almost feel like I am taking lessons for the first time.

My teacher has asked me each time, “What is your ultimate goal with lessons?” My response is the same each time, to sing better, I don’t know what else. I don’t know if I want to sing opera, musical theater, or what. I don’t know what kind of music I would like to study. I just want to have that great feeling again. The feeling where you work really hard on the ins-and-outs of a difficult piece and come out the other side to sing it well. The feeling of sustaining that long high note only to subtly decrescendo unexpectedly. To enter the mind of a character and express their love, sadness, or joy.

Who shall I sing for? It does not matter. After 25 years of singing and 10 years of mostly not, it is time to sing again.