Month: October, 2014


Every few months, I ask someone to take a video of me playing.

Just so I can hear what I sound like for purely professional reasons.

And also, to see if I’m still doing that weird thing with my face.

Again, for professional reasons.

This week, I was told my phone could not take any more video because it was already at capacity.

When I scrolled through the camera roll, what I saw was image after image (dutifully taken every Saturday) of myself standing before a full-length mirror, in my underwear, doing the four mandatory physique competition poses: front, right side profile, back, left side profile.

The lesson here for me is abundantly clear.

I literally could not hear myself or see myself because I was so full of myself.

I select all my pictures and hit delete.

I am ready to be filled once again with possibility and opportunity; hope and joy; love and kindness.

And, to pour out the same.








Because we agreed that I should take some time off from heavy lifting, my trainer and I met for the first time in two weeks to slowly ease back into it.

I slide myself under the bar and prepare for my first bench press.

As expected, everything feels impossibly heavy.

I don’t even come close to hitting the weights I am used to.

So I do the only thing that I can do.

I keep going.

I keep going at a responsibly manageable load.

At the end of the week, we meet again.

I’m thrilled and overjoyed with significant progress.

Strength is a funny thing.

If you don’t use it, you loose it.

The good thing though, is that it comes back pretty quickly.




It was nice to come home.

It was nice to hear people say that they missed me.

And that it was good to listen to my playing again.

Except this one guy.

He said, ” You’re mean. I’m scared of you. I’m glad that you were far away from me.”

So then I hissed like a pissed off cat and he ran away back into the kitchen.

“Don’t you come back out again or I’ll claw your eyes out,” I said with the most tender affection.

I spent the rest of the week taking a one question  poll:

Are you scared of me?

Most people laughed and said no. (Specifically, hell no.)

But I was very surprised that some people  hesitated before answering, “No … not really.”

It made me think.

Perhaps it’s because I say what I mean and mean what I say.

Maybe I don’t have to be quite so mean when I say it.

Or better yet, if it’s nothing nice, to say nothing at all.





When I arrived at the beach house, I collapsed into bed and have remained there, sleeping,  for the better part of an entire week.

The most strenuous thing I’ve done is turn on the TV.

At first I was completely freaked and anxious; Am I depressed? Am I sick? Am I going to be ok?

Then upset and disappointed.

I had a full itinerary planned and now I wouldn’t get to do anything.

It took a few days for me to realize that my complete lack of energy was my own body very clearly signaling that it had had enough.

Enough of early morning training, late night playing and everything else in between that I’ve been cramming my daily schedule with for the past six months.

I had planned this break and I guess my central nervous system was just ensuring that I actually got one.

I’m awake now.

To the very real reminder that I need to take better care of my down time on a regular basis so that I don’t end up falling down.