Crisis of Faith

I think I'm having a crisis of faith.
We don't really get to know ever if there really is a divine being that gives a damn about us, do we?
We just have to decide there is or decide there isn't and live life accordingly.
That's really what faith is.. deciding there is without any proof, right?
I think it might really be that simple.

And I suppose, since we never really know, there's no more logic that says there is than that there isn't.
Seems like the difference in living would be the presence of hope.
Relaxing into the belief that something's looking out for me, and it will all be ok in the end.  Freedom and peace.  Versus frantically trying to tip the scales in my favor before the chance passes me by.  Anxiety and worry.
And if I choose to believe, and in the end there was nothing, I still would have lived a life defined by hope, freedom, and peace, rather than one filled with anxiety and worry, right?
Well, if it's just a simple choice in the end, for this life anyway, it seems like an obvious one to me.
Hm, interesting.
Maybe this is a spiritual awakening.

Dream Woman

Last night in my dream I met a woman I've never seen before.  We began to talk and she asked me what had taken up my time before meeting her that night. She wanted to know what relationships had defined my 20s and 30s.  Important transitional time, she said.  I reminded her that I had just started my 30s and she told me not to rub it in.

But I woke up shortly after that and started thinking about what had defined my 20s.  I have spent a lot of time and energy grieving a great sorrow and trying to understand why what I'd hoped would define my 20s hasn't.  (Namely, meeting the man of my dreams and starting a family.)

But I started reviewing, and I realized that I learned to salsa, to travel, that there was no reason to be afraid of people who were 'different,' I learned my own capacity to love, my ability to survive thoughtlessness and heartbreak, I met some of my dearest friends, I learned that I am strong and resilient, and also tender and sensitive, I learned to cook and to garden, to say yes, to say no, to stand up for myself, to back down gracefully, I learned what it takes to risk the familiar and carve out brand new paths in my life journey, and then to walk them by myself (largely by myself.  I also learned who my cheerleaders and supporters are)..  I'm sure there's more.

And you know?  Had my life gone the way I planned when I was a teenager (married by 24, baby by 26, etc), even how I still wanted it to go through my 20s, I don't think I would have learned the same things.  I would have learned other important and valuable things, surely, but maybe not those.  And I am grateful.

It truly is hard to understand how everything will shake out in the end, and it is hard to keep holding onto the belief that the right guy is out there and that we WILL find each other, given all the raised and dashed hopes and failed attempts so far.  But I am grateful for all of the fun, self-discovery, and friendships from my 20s.  I have been accused before of being selfish during this time -- spending too much time focusing on myself rather than living for others.  That hurts, but I can't care anymore.  Not everyone understands the bravery it takes to be alone in this world.  To be alone AND continue to hope.

I'm not writing this to gloat about the single life.  I wouldn't have chosen to be still single at 30.  But I don't want to take for granted the blessings and lessons that have come my way while what I've wanted hasn't happened.  Someday I hope to be happily married with a couple of funny kids underfoot -- living as much for them as I am for myself, and I want to look back on my years of being single with fondness and gratitude.

For now, I will continue to be brave, to offer my heart to the world in the hopes that one of these days it won't be handed back to me.  This is the life I've got, and there's a good chance I only get one go at it.  Thank you to the sleepy, dream woman for the chat.

Tell Me

Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
~Mary Oliver

Beauty School

I had a delightful student haircut experience at Aveda Institute earlier this week. The experience begins with a scalp and shoulder massage using your choice of aromatherapy oil. Then the wash, cut, style follows. The students are usually kind and enthusiastic, and the instructors are on hand for both approval and to save the day where necessary.

As the student was blowing out my hair this week, I happened to look over at the "station" next to me. The student-stylist was sitting in the chair with a mannequin's head in her lap working intently on cutting gum out of the it's hair.

I guess that if they don't teach that in beauty school, where else are you going to learn? Who would have guessed?

My Life

I have a new student named Sean who is about 8 years old. He originally started with guitar, but didn't like to practice because it hurt his fingers. He is also a very active kid and the guitar teacher couldn't be calmer and more easy-going, so probably their temperaments didn't match either. I've been working with him for about a month, and he has just been soaring in piano. His mom told me yesterday that he practices all the time and earlier this week she asked him how he was liking piano.

He stopped what he was doing and grew serious. "Mom," he said. "It's my life."

Post-Milennials

In another lesson with a 9-yr-old who has a fascination with my cell phone, she begged me to let her text herself from my phone to hers. (Because she has a cell phone at 9 years old!!) Against my better judgment I gave her 30 seconds to write and send a message. She wrote "hi friend" and just thought it was the most hilarious thing she'd ever done.

The next evening I got a text message from that number..
"who are you?"

Thankfully I had the sense not to respond. The last thing I want is a flood of texts from a 9-yr-old who can text twice as fast as I can.

From the mouths of babes..

A piano lesson.

I told third-grader Carla that she could play "Toccata Breve" to prove to any kid that she was a great piano player. (She played this piece by memory at the recital last June.) Then I said, "I bet you still remember how to play that one."

"Nope," she corrected. "My brain is like a computer. It can change screens,... play games,.. store new things I learn, and delete stuff that I don't need anymore."

Mom and Dad

A recent photo of my mom and dad which perfectly captures this new life they call "Retirement." Think that means putzing around the house and putting your feet up? Not in the Bodine world.