I started cello lessons in February. My playing tortures the cello. I am awful; one in every five notes is correct, the rest is caterwauling. For the sake of my ego and my neighbors, I am happy the condo is soundproof. But, I love it. In music, there are rest notes and pauses. The transitions between pianissimo, forte and crescendo. This post has a tinge of guilt. Am I losing sight of dismantling systematic racism if l write about other things? Music reminds me there are times to pause and rest. Life is a symphony with transitions and the pauses between movements. This week, consider what you love, what nurtures you and do it. Take a pause that refreshes.
Balancing on Unstable Surfaces 