Saturday, January 13, 2007


It has been a long time since I felt as good as I do right now about who I am and what I should be doing. It's all because one man who works in a music store acted like some type of elistist guitar guru whenever I ask him questions. He had no way of knowing how hard I had to work to learn to play those 5 different chords on the mandolin, nor did he really care. Caring and music just don't seem synonymous. Musicians play music because they enjoy making music or feel compelled to do so. They also like to entertain and applause is a great reward. Sure some of the Bonos in the world use their money to help lots of people , but no one plays because "they care." They play because they love music and they love making music. It turns out that my new mandolin's strings are way too high and that's why I had such difficulty trying to play.

Even though I found him to be arrogant, especially when he explained how he had been working on the electric guitar in his hands for 5 days in order to "fix" it. He almost spelled out the answers to my questions since he knew that I was "soooooo new." I certainly didn't "look like a musician or speak like one." I felt like a "blond" (sorry...I know all blonds aren't dumb) mandolin player wearing a big sign on her forehead that said, "she just bought her first mandolin...yeah....she's cool."

Just when I totally felt that I was out of his league and should be sent to some special corner in hell where the most "blond" of all mandolin players rots in a mire of unfilled dreams, a vast array of unused instruments and songbooks, he spoke the most sobering and enlightening words that I have ever heard, "it's not a contest, mam." When I left that music store, I just couldn't stop thinking about what he had said. I thought about it all day wherever I went. I even thought about it when I opened my door tonight. Every time I thought about what he said, I would have some type personal epiphany regarding my life and how I looked reacted to different situations in my life. I thought a lot about where my true needs and desires had gotten to.

It began simply when I went to the bathroom and realized that I have been using the handicapped stall because I thought that I couldn't fit into a regular stall. I fit just fine with more room than I ever imagined. What have I been thinking??? It suddenly hit me that I don't even pay enough attention to myself to think about things like that. Where have I been?

I spent the rest of the day just driving around the city, listening to jazz radio and doing just whatever came to mind. I shopped for nothing, bought little and ate sparingly. I discovered the part of me that loves the city. Oh my I love the city and all the buildings and all that structure!! I would love to live in a loft and just put my big comfy bed in the middle of the room on a big round, super-shaggy rug. Then, surround myself with all the things that I love and need. The wall of music over there. The computer here. My art gallery over against the wall, there. And oh yes...the kitchen has to be by the windows and a big claw tub where I could bath in sunlight. And right in the middle of the bed is my one and only guy. I could let him have the nightstand on his side of the bed. There would be a chandelier high over our bed and a stand for my mandolin and another for his clarinet. We would have two oversized comfy chair with bigggg ottomans in front of a massive book case full of books and more books. Just a little TV in the kitchen to watch in the morning. I can see it now.

I find this personal epiphany extremely liberating but feeling it in my soul is ever better. I feel like a dog let off her leash, ready to run. Run Dia, Dia...Run!! No more show dog mentality in competition for everything...for time...for space...for attention...for love. I think that I was even trying to compete to be in God's good graces by comparing myself to how well I stacked up to others. I just got in a little too deep.

Of course I know that I can live the life that I have, but I can make it so much better by just letting go... "just let go... and live your life, Dia..."

In the words of Edie Brickell's song, "What I Am"...

Choke me in the shallow water, before I get to deep.
Choke me in the shallow water, before I get to deep.
Choke me in the shallow water, before I get too.... deep.
Don't let me get too deep....
Don't let me get too deep....

What I am is what I am are you what you are or what?

Thanks for the choking music man!!!



Susanna Williams said...


You should let Mac link to your blog, cause some people might want to know about it. You have your own ways of saying things and I like it and I want to read more.

So don't stop writing or playing.

"You touch me, I hear the sound of mandolins.
You kiss me, and with your kiss my world begins.
For my love is like the wind, and wild is the wind."

(Nina Simone)

Mac said...

Listen to the mandol.....too obvious.

This is great Mom. Competition will kill you.

"Blonde" is spelled with a "e" when it refers to a woman.

My grammar is better than yours is; I win.

Breaking oneself of the desire to compete can be daunting. Don't be surprised if you find yourself doing it again. Johnny Mac is highly competitive, which is good in his business, but which might rub off on you.

I enjoy reading your blog.