Swimming Together

 

The lake is calm this morning. The house likewise calm and quiet, the horizon lined with fishing boats and the promise of sunshine ahead. One more full day before returning to yet another Fall in San Francisco. The fourth year in a row in which it means something different from putting my shoulder to the wheel of the school year to get it started. Imagine that. How quickly time passes. 

 

Fall in San Francisco. Always one of my favorite times of year, marked by a succession of ritual events. The SF Mime Troupe play in Dolores Park. Opera in the Park (Golden Gate, that is). Comedy in the Park. Hardly Strictly Bluegrass. On it goes up to Halloween and Day of the Dead and the annual National Orff Conference (not in San Francisco), Thanksgiving and then all the Winter Holidays hoopla. The best weather of the year, neither wind nor fog nor rain and usually a few days of a “heat wave,” which for my city means late 80’s and occasionally low 90’s, one of the only times one dares dip into the Pacific Ocean. 

 

Again, for 45 years this included the excitement of starting the school adventure yet again and between 2013 and 2019, the added bonus of sharing both the school and the city with four to six music teacher Interns. All of the above events and more given an extra flavor and shine when shared with fun folks from Canada, Colombia, Brazil, China, Thailand, Iran, Turkey, Germany, Spain, Italy, Finland, Czech Republic, Australia, New Zealand, the Philippines and throughout the U.S. Wasn’t that a time. 

 

I’ve always said that September 1^st was my true New Year and so like two-headed  Janus, I look back to what has been and forward to what will be. This extraordinary year of re-opened travel and teaching in every continent except South America, the film festival run, the mentoring of Orff teachers and guest teaching of children, a new book in the pipeline, the blessings of good health and much more. This Fall with its promise of another new book, continued work with Orff teachers and kids, an unusual return to this Michigan cottage in September for my nephew’s wedding and yet more. Sometimes I pause and wonder, with all proper gratitude and humility, what did I do to deserve such a life?

 

Not that it has been free of the trials and tribulations any human incarnation guarantees. The usual blend of dancing on the mountaintop and soldiering through the vale of tears. Disappointments (in myself and others), betrayals, small t traumas, loss, grief, sadness, doubt, outrage, peppered throughout the joys and blessed moments. And certainly more to come. 

 

But meanwhile, here I am, a bald eagle soaring past the beckoning lake, the day mine to fill as I wish, probably with walking, biking, swimming. Another 1,972 readers who read yesterday’s post and might be reading these words. Of course, I wonder if the words are worthy of their—your—time and attention and only hope that they help turn you to your own story of grace and redemption, trials and triumphs, the sense the we—none of us— are in this alone and we need each other to both affirm and challenge, to share our stories and to help each other fully embrace it all. May you each find your own refreshing Lake Michigan waters to swim in today and each and every day. The water is delicious and there’s room for us all.