sign #6 - office hours

i have cried on four distinct occasions in the last 48 hours. (btw, every time, i've had someone there who supported me through it . . . such a blessing.) sometimes there's so much going on inside, and life has to go on: papers, presentations, work, friendships . . . ob-la-di, ob-la-da, and all that. it seems so silly!

one of the tough issues in my life is leadership. my mom and i chatted about this over the weekend, and my boss and i discussed it again. to lead . . .

transitive senses:
1 a : to guide on a way especially by going in advance b : to direct on a course or in a direction c : to serve as a channel for

strange how that doesn't help much - though, to be honest, more than i expected. when zed was my program director at camp, he said that i tend to pause before i do things. i seem to ask myself, "can i really do this?" and, at camp at least, i would normally dive in. but the pause - the deep breath - was still there. lately, i've been living in the pause. how do i get past that?

a group of brass players have been kind enough to enfold me into their little ensemble for some carolling-type activities. this excites me beyond measure. i still have the ticket from the last concert i played in - may 2000 - and i miss it muchly. plus, brass quartet - how cool is that?

playing my euphonium yesterday, i realized that i need to find myself again. on monday i told someone that i couldn't write poetry . . . and then mentioned that i'd won a prize for a remembrance day poem i wrote 13 years ago. he said, "so why are you saying you can't write poetry?" as if our chronological distance from that event had no impact on my skills. maybe it doesn't. maybe i need to remember who i used to be, the things i loved - math, music, writing, thinking - and make time for them.