Shift Happens

Forcing myself to push outside my comfort zone is hard. This week I did just that, though, on several levels. My week began with a second treatment from my new acupuncturist. I've decided he's fine. He makes me laugh, and that laughter is healing in and of itself. The pain I've had for a year in the top of my left foot is now gone after one laser treatment. I am very impressed with that. When I walked in and relayed my physical ills to him, I followed-up with, "My chocolate addiction is out of control!" He treated that too, and I haven't craved or eaten chocolate or anything more than honey all week. Not eating sugar or chocolate feels really good for a change.

The only break here is that Larry and I tried a new restaurant (for us) in Westport, MA called Marguerite's last night. The food was fabulous. It was very simply prepared; seemed pretty low-fat, and tasted fresh and healthy. We shared steamed mussels in broth with garlic. He had salmon and I had Sole Piccata (Panko breaded and lightly fried with a lemon sauce and capers -- delish!). The asparagus was perfectly cooked with just the perfect little crunch. He liked the mashed potatoes and I liked the rice pilaf. The "piese-de-resistance", however, was the grapenut custard that tasted just like Gummy (my maternal grandmother) made. I felt like I died and went to Heaven. We will definitely go there again.

Thursday night I went to the first "open sing" of the spring season for the Tiverton Community Chorus. I was scared to death to go, but forced myself there. Larry volunteered to go with me for support, but I said, "No, you don't have to. I'm a big girl now." We laughed and I trudged out the door. I couldn't find my way into the church building until I walked around to the back. Then I couldn't get up to where a gentleman told me I should go because there was tape across the steps leading to the main Sanctuary with the strong smell of stain permeating the air inside the entrance. He ushered me downstairs and I followed the "registration" signs with arrows through the kitchen and up the other side; picked one of the three closed doors following singing and found a packed church. I was embarrassed to be the last one to arrive, and I thought they had just started. Later I learned the sing started at 7:00pm; not 7:30. Oh well. It must have been my nerves that read the newspaper wrong.

A woman from the back row at the farthest corner of the Sanctuary came to greet me; signed me in; gave me a packet of music that I was instructed I was only "borrowing"; was not to write in, and had to return it to her at the end of the night. I sat where I was directed, and saw a neighbor in the row in front of me who lived four houses down. Seeing her friendly face made me feel a lot better. The music director seemed to be more friendly when she was performing than when I called her at home last season about joining. I realized that night that she was just a professional, and I was approaching this as a "fun" activity. Although I let people around me know at the break how intimidated I was, they all assured me there was no need. "I lip sync when I lose my place," my neighbor said. Don't worry. And, the music director assured the five to six of us "newbies" that if we thought everyone in the room just read that last piece of music easily, we were sadly mistaken. I lightened up a little more.

As the evening went on, I realized how difficult the pieces were. I have not really read music since I was in the All Newton Chorus in middle school. This season's music will be hymns from all types of composers. There are several songs from Broadway: Godspell and Children of Eden (not produced), and Shaker songs. It was very interesting and not the kind of music I would be exposed to in any other context. I found that I had trouble following along because I was always a soprano (top line). I now designated my self an alto, and by the end of the night confirmed this was the correct choice for me now. But that means I have to sing the second line, and quickly finding it for each stanza down the page and turning pages is hard. By the end of the night, I decided I really wanted to do this for the challenge, for the brain exercise, for the social experience and for the wonderful music. I had forgotten how beautiful singing harmony with a hundred or so people in a room is. My soul filled up with the music and I got emotional at one point. I really wanted to do this.

Then I realized that the concerts are May 5th and 6th, and Larry and I had been casually talking about going to the lake house in South Carolina for the month of April. I invited my sister to come and a girlfriend. I can't join this chorus and not only go away for the month of April, but take another two weeks off when we go to Hawaii for ten days on March 7th. I was devastated to realize this scheduling conflict once again, and to also realize this would always be the case. I couldn't join last season for the Christmas concert because of a planned trip south. I realized later that I could have been part of it, since our trip got cancelled for multiple reasons. Then I got mad and yelled to myself, "This just sucks!"

I dumped all over Larry the next morning when he said, "My family will be disappointed," if we don't go in April when we said we would. I yelled, "I can't spend my life pleasing everyone. It's MY life!" It got uglier from there, so I won't humiliate myself or my husband by expounding it here. Suffice it to say I stormed out of the house to go meet my personal trainer for the first time and we talked in a calmer tone at dinner.

My trainer is a handsome young man, who was very chatty and very nice. He eased me into free weights and the machines. He stayed with me and counted as I did the exercises, "Two more now, then...that's it. Good job." We got to know each other a little as I worked out, and he was very conscious and considerate of my bad knees and made sure I let him know if anything hurt when I did it. We talked about my expectations of a trainer and he assured me that's what he did: push me when I don't want to and challenge me when I fight it. The time flew by, and it felt really good. I appreciated the one-on-one attention, the conversation that made the time fly by, and the small (a little too intimate) atmosphere. I didn't chat it up when others came to work out; just when the two trainers were in the room. I was alone to start and it helped with the "getting to know you" part of my experience. I signed up for ten sessions and have two scheduled for next week. I feel pretty good today. Nothing hurts. I just have to discuss the lack of stretching space there with my trainer. I didn't stretch at all when I was done. I know this is not a good thing.

I felt a little nausea when I was done working out, but happily I remembered to bring a TLC granola bar to nibble on with my water before heading home for a sandwich. After lunch, I went to meet my new massage therapist. She was just what I had hoped for: a hippy-dippy young women after my own heart. We both knew in our first telephone conversation that we'd hit it off, so our conversation was just right. She gave me a wonderful deep-tissue massage, and my body so needed it. She also alerted me to two ribs being "out" just below my clavacle, so next week, I'll have those addressed. She thinks they are contributing to my shoulder pain.

I also talked with her about connecting with a "spiritual" group in town, and she let me know her mother did holistic workshops. She shared a flyer for a women's workshop starting next week focused on the second chakra that sounds great. I'll probably call and sign up. I'm not sure what will happen with the chorus yet. I really want to do it and go to South Carolina in May. This will probably happen. I will probably also take the workshop that will end the day we leave for Hawaii. I need to call my neighbor and talk more about the chorus. We exchanged numbers that night. Another good thing.

Everything falls into place as it should, and time will tell how this all plays out.  I'll keep y'all posted. Thanks for listening.