…when I woke up at 8:25am after having set my alarm at 7:05, 7:10 and 7:15? When I was supposed to be leaving to go to church at 8:50am so I could help play prelude music starting at 9:10am? I do. It just happened today.
Flash back a week. Two things: sickness had seriously struck our household (except me) and...
…with the week leading up to Christmas, there were several opportunities that were presenting themselves to participate in the coming Sunday services. Church is divided up into three hours: Sacrament meeting, Sunday School and a third hour of lessons. I was so excited to be participating in a musical piece during Sacrament meeting and then assist in the teaching for the third hour. I hadn’t taken out my violin in years, so I was thrilled for the opportunity to not only play prelude, but play a beautiful piece, O Holy Night, with an accomplished singer during Sacrament. I had been practicing all week with the help of my toddler who ensured that I would be prepared and able to play through ANYTHING. There was no way, after playing through his antics, that I could be derailed on Sunday.
[Sunday morning]
I wake up in a cold-sweat – look at my phone and it reads 8:25. I panic and in a fever (literally) jump out of bed nearly about to fall over – the family’s bubonic plague had finally struck me. All I could think was, “I have to be at church for prelude at 9:10….which is 40 minutes away… subtract 20 minute travel time, I had 20 minutes to get myself ready for church.” Running to the car, my hair in curlers and my makeup bag in the passenger seat, I shout back to Steve as I get out the door – “DRESS FELICITY! I’ll be back for her and biscuits during the second hour of church!!” I had made biscuits the night before as a treat for the lesson that would be taught later in the day (the third hour of church).
I sped to church – thankfully I didn’t get pulled over. I got through prelude music, with the help of another violinist – an accomplished young woman and her mother who was accompanying us. I was feeling a bit off as we played, lost my place a couple of times, but all-in-all I made it through. But unfortunately, it was a sign of things to come.
All throughout the beginning of church I was texting Steve about his progress with Felicity and other things that I had missed in my rush to get out the door. My plan had been all along that I would leave right after playing O Holy Night so that I could drive home to give myself enough time to pick up the items I had left and head back to church. I had myself sitting in the front pew on the left, so I would have easy access out. Anyone who knows the Payettes, knows this is a very uncommon place for us to sit – as we’re typically sitting in the very last row of the congregation (not out of preference, but out of tardiness). So, the feeling of everyone behind me, seeing my every move was a new one.
The time had come – amongst a beautiful musical program, it was our turn to perform. I said a prayer to myself, asking that the piece go well and that I’d stay calm. So, I walked up to the stand in the front, when all of the sudden my chin rest falls off my violin…like, a whole chunk of my instrument. I hurriedly try to get it back on…trying my best to screw it on my fingers only to have it lay wonkily off center. Next, I grab the music stand and while trying to lift the height, a loud, rusty squeak rings out across the audience. At this point, I feel my temperature rising, which is already high with a sweat breaking on my forehead. The next 4-5 minutes were a long – to put it frankly – train wreck (well, my part was – they did great).
Between losing my place and squeaking strings, I absolutely set a new performance standard for myself. In all the years of playing, I had never recalled getting so off track – and what was even better was this was the real first time anyone in this place had heard me play.
Well, I suppose my prayer was answered, the singer did an amazing job despite an absent violinist and considering it all I felt relatively calm.
Surprisingly, my nerves weren’t a part of the train wreck – I wasn’t shaking, I wasn’t having a panic attack –I just wasn’t “there.”
The end had finally come and here were the series of things I was thinking: “Ohh man, I need to sit down. Did I really just play that bad? Will this singer ever talk to me again? Ohh man, I need to sit. Did everyone just watch me do that? Wait, I have to get home for my stuff for the third hour. I wonder what I am going to bring those biscuits in…Ohhh, I need to sit” And from there, I rushed down to the front row, packed up my violin and slipped out the front door to sit in my car for a moment to catch my breath before quickly get back home.
After getting a pep talk from my awesome, sickly husband who had to endure the play-by-play account of my disaster, I returned to church complete with my Paula Dean biscuits – ready to be uplifted by an amazing lesson.
After all this, I wanted to say this:
Dear congregation –
I am SO sorry you had to listen to me today. Perhaps I should’ve stayed home – but, I didn’t want to miss it. Hopefully your attention was turned to the amazing singer up there with me and not the mere outline of a violinist next to her.
Also, despite having played something that I don’t even know what that was…I didn’t storm out bawling like it may have looked like…although I probably should have. I realize after the fact that that’s exactly what it probably looked like. Note to self: never sit in the front again.
At the end of the day, I’ll tell you what I’m most upset about – messing it up for my singer friend and not being able to have my family there – complete with Harry’s Christmas bowtie. Despite all this, I truly felt the Christmas spirit today and am so grateful to be surrounded by amazing, talented people who helped me remember the true reason and purpose of this blessed time of year.
Until next year – well hopefully not until then – I look forward to stepping up there again, hopefully with my chin rest tightened, the stand greased, and my temperature cooled.
Merry Christmas friends!
Valerie
Actually, if you haven't heard, please call me Val
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Thursday, March 22, 2012
What's In a Name?
“What’s in a name?” Juliet asks. I’ll butt in here and say, "a whole heck of a lot."
I’m still reeling a bit from the recent news we received that the little one we’re expecting this summer will be a girl. Some say it’s a clear 50/50 chance for a boy or girl, others claim that depending on the father’s family you are destined one way or the other. Well, based on the Payette gene pool there is (counting two generations) a 11:1 ratio of boys to girls. So, if you subscribed to the latter belief of predicting baby gender, the odds were clearly staked against us for a girl.
All along we’ve been building lists of names in an excel sheet – remember, I’m married to an accountant – with the understanding that once we knew the gender we’d focus more on actually looking through the lists and determining “the name.” The girl names have mostly been a compilation of those that I’ve daydreamed about since college…never really thinking seriously about them…until now.
Could there be anything more fun and yet induce so much pressure at the same time as naming someone?
Well, yes…there could be, but humor me…naming…it’s kind of a big deal.
This name that you give a child before you really even know them is defining in SO many ways:
• It says something about you, the parents. Your kids’ names are an extension of what you think is attractive, significant, etc.
• If they're named after someone special (family member, favorite [fill in the blank]) - will they understand and appreciate the intention behind it?
• It’s the first thing people see of your kid on paper. Whether it be resumes or written petitions for any number of things (jobs, colleges, first crushes, money, etc.) – what emotion, image does this name evoke in another person? What is their immediate impression based on the name printed in front of them?
• Your kid – they’re going to grow up one day and what will they think of their name? Will they thank or curse you? Sure, there are plenty of adorable names that fit a spunky, mischievous toddler…but what about in high school, college, or when they’re running for president (of the PTA or USA…it doesn’t matter)?
I could very well be blowing this out of proportion…and when you think about it, it's all subjective anyway and based on each individual - which is a beautiful thing. Besides, all of these factors listed above are based on caring what other people think. A big part of me wants to sincerely think – “who cares what anyone else thinks?!” But, let’s be honest, I care because she will care.
She is the recipient of this name we give her – an identity that others may have an opinion about, but that she will have the final say on. While others will have their subjective judgments and thoughts regarding her name…she will, in the end, bring a legacy of her own to this name…hopefully reinforcing the positive and redefining the negative.
So, all that being said, there is a name I love, but am not sure will be the one. It is a name from a heroine of one of my favorite novels. There is a passage describing this character that has touched me since the first time I read it. One of the motivations for using this name is, not only is it beautiful, this is a passage that I want to share with her one day:
“…From the beginning she had given little trouble, for her naughtiness was only the normal naughtiness of a healthy child and she had always been more or less explainable… She had...the best of all gifts the power of enjoyment, not just animal enjoyment of good health and good spirits but that authentic love of life that sees good days . ‘He that would love life and see good days, let him refrain his tongue from evil and his lips that they speak no guile: let him eschew evil, and do good; let him seek peace and ensue it.’…that was the kind of person [name] had had the good fortune to be born. She had the transparent honesty and purity and serenity that like clear water flooding over the bed of a stream washes away uncleanness and make fresh and divinely lovely all that is seen through its own transparency. We see the world through the medium of our characters, and [name] saw and loved all things through her own bright clarity, and enjoyed them enormously. She had not got this clearness of happy sight from her mother, whose vision was always a little clouded by anxiety, nor from her father, whose sense of the importance of his activities kept his vision strictly limited to them. Perhaps it had come from the sheer happy loveliness of the Island spring and summer through whose months her mother had waited tranquilly for her birth. Where it had come from [her mother] had only to cast one glance at her dimpled happy beauty to have all maternal worries instantly allayed…No, there was no need to worry about [name]. She was absolutely adorable, and throughout life she would be adored.”
Even if we don’t go with this name, I have this to say to the little one headed our way:
Dear ______,
You have no idea how thrilled I am to meet you, care for you, play with you and watch you grow. I hope that you will, like this favorite character of mine, love life and see good in the days and people around you. I hope that you will radiate happiness and contentment and that this will be the result of a true joy within you. I can only imagine you possessing this pure, transparent way and I hope that we, as your parents, will not corrupt this with our adult skepticism.
In the end, it doesn't really matter what your name is. Regardless of what it is we choose, know that your parents wanted to give you one that you would be proud of…and one that has the capacity to carry all the amazing things you are bound to accomplish in your life.
Cannot wait to be inspired by you,
Mama
p.s. it will always be mama
I’m still reeling a bit from the recent news we received that the little one we’re expecting this summer will be a girl. Some say it’s a clear 50/50 chance for a boy or girl, others claim that depending on the father’s family you are destined one way or the other. Well, based on the Payette gene pool there is (counting two generations) a 11:1 ratio of boys to girls. So, if you subscribed to the latter belief of predicting baby gender, the odds were clearly staked against us for a girl.
All along we’ve been building lists of names in an excel sheet – remember, I’m married to an accountant – with the understanding that once we knew the gender we’d focus more on actually looking through the lists and determining “the name.” The girl names have mostly been a compilation of those that I’ve daydreamed about since college…never really thinking seriously about them…until now.
Could there be anything more fun and yet induce so much pressure at the same time as naming someone?
Well, yes…there could be, but humor me…naming…it’s kind of a big deal.
This name that you give a child before you really even know them is defining in SO many ways:
• It says something about you, the parents. Your kids’ names are an extension of what you think is attractive, significant, etc.
• If they're named after someone special (family member, favorite [fill in the blank]) - will they understand and appreciate the intention behind it?
• It’s the first thing people see of your kid on paper. Whether it be resumes or written petitions for any number of things (jobs, colleges, first crushes, money, etc.) – what emotion, image does this name evoke in another person? What is their immediate impression based on the name printed in front of them?
• Your kid – they’re going to grow up one day and what will they think of their name? Will they thank or curse you? Sure, there are plenty of adorable names that fit a spunky, mischievous toddler…but what about in high school, college, or when they’re running for president (of the PTA or USA…it doesn’t matter)?
I could very well be blowing this out of proportion…and when you think about it, it's all subjective anyway and based on each individual - which is a beautiful thing. Besides, all of these factors listed above are based on caring what other people think. A big part of me wants to sincerely think – “who cares what anyone else thinks?!” But, let’s be honest, I care because she will care.
She is the recipient of this name we give her – an identity that others may have an opinion about, but that she will have the final say on. While others will have their subjective judgments and thoughts regarding her name…she will, in the end, bring a legacy of her own to this name…hopefully reinforcing the positive and redefining the negative.
So, all that being said, there is a name I love, but am not sure will be the one. It is a name from a heroine of one of my favorite novels. There is a passage describing this character that has touched me since the first time I read it. One of the motivations for using this name is, not only is it beautiful, this is a passage that I want to share with her one day:
“…From the beginning she had given little trouble, for her naughtiness was only the normal naughtiness of a healthy child and she had always been more or less explainable… She had...the best of all gifts the power of enjoyment, not just animal enjoyment of good health and good spirits but that authentic love of life that sees good days . ‘He that would love life and see good days, let him refrain his tongue from evil and his lips that they speak no guile: let him eschew evil, and do good; let him seek peace and ensue it.’…that was the kind of person [name] had had the good fortune to be born. She had the transparent honesty and purity and serenity that like clear water flooding over the bed of a stream washes away uncleanness and make fresh and divinely lovely all that is seen through its own transparency. We see the world through the medium of our characters, and [name] saw and loved all things through her own bright clarity, and enjoyed them enormously. She had not got this clearness of happy sight from her mother, whose vision was always a little clouded by anxiety, nor from her father, whose sense of the importance of his activities kept his vision strictly limited to them. Perhaps it had come from the sheer happy loveliness of the Island spring and summer through whose months her mother had waited tranquilly for her birth. Where it had come from [her mother] had only to cast one glance at her dimpled happy beauty to have all maternal worries instantly allayed…No, there was no need to worry about [name]. She was absolutely adorable, and throughout life she would be adored.”
Even if we don’t go with this name, I have this to say to the little one headed our way:
Dear ______,
You have no idea how thrilled I am to meet you, care for you, play with you and watch you grow. I hope that you will, like this favorite character of mine, love life and see good in the days and people around you. I hope that you will radiate happiness and contentment and that this will be the result of a true joy within you. I can only imagine you possessing this pure, transparent way and I hope that we, as your parents, will not corrupt this with our adult skepticism.
In the end, it doesn't really matter what your name is. Regardless of what it is we choose, know that your parents wanted to give you one that you would be proud of…and one that has the capacity to carry all the amazing things you are bound to accomplish in your life.
Cannot wait to be inspired by you,
Mama
p.s. it will always be mama
Monday, March 5, 2012
Cute Enough to be Attacked
What a strange/awful thing to think you need to be – cute enough to be attacked. Something recently reminded me of one particular exchange I had with someone I hardly knew so many years ago.
Before I go any further, I realize the subject of attacks and attack victims is not a topic to speak of lightly – I really don’t intend to treat it as such.
[Flashback] In a conversation with others about everyone’s plans for college and where we were going, I made a quip about needing to get mace for my experiences in traversing the city I was headed to. The response that came from this half-way serious, mostly joking comment, has lived in my memory ever since: “Why? You’re not cute enough to be attacked.”
What a puzzling statement. I mean, I guess that’s a good thing…?! To not be cute enough…to essentially be your own natural mace? It was a slight – for whatever reason – from an individual I hardly knew. To this day I have no idea what I said in response to that comment, but it has been seared into my memory. And while I haven’t been terribly affected by it – it has actually served more as a laughable example of ridiculous things NOT to say to someone - it has unfortunately been associated with this person and…to me.
Thinking about this has automatically spurred the self-reflection of all the ridiculous things I’ve said throughout my life, to or about people - some of which may unfortunately be on repeat in someone’s mind as a part of their memory or opinion of me.
In some cases we have time to repair our “stranger things have been said/done” statements, judgments, actions, etc. But, not all the time…and oftentimes, while the person may graciously accept an apology or choose to overlook it – it can still live, because it was said/done.
What a harrowing thought - kind of paralyzing if I think about it too much. Could I possibly recount, return to, and repair every stupid/thoughtless thing I’ve said to/about people I’ve encountered over the last 29 years? Unfortunately, no. In fact, I doubt this person would even remember this exchange – and I wouldn’t even want them to.
I guess we’re here to live, let-go, and LEARN from not only the things said/done to us…but really, and more importantly, the things we’re doing/saying to others.
Dear Person from the Past/and the World,
Crappy things have been said to me. Crappy things have been said by me. I don’t really like the taste of said crap – either coming in or going out.
So I guess it's best to really live that golden rule: do unto others as you would have them do unto you...(with the addendum: even if “others” don’t always hold up their end of the deal).
The thing is, I would bet most people don't truly mean to have their words/actions live as long as they may be living in our minds - I know I don't. If I were confronted with all the things I’ve said I would be hurriedly looking for an eraser or the “edit” option. So, I guess why say or do it? Hmm, I don't know why I'm a jerk at times and why others can be too. But...
Here’s to a continued effort at a crap-free diet – because really, this is not only better for my health, but better for everyone else’s as well. Just don’t listen to me during rush hour…that doesn’t count, ok??
Val
Yep, please just call me val because, in my book, we’re friends.
Before I go any further, I realize the subject of attacks and attack victims is not a topic to speak of lightly – I really don’t intend to treat it as such.
[Flashback] In a conversation with others about everyone’s plans for college and where we were going, I made a quip about needing to get mace for my experiences in traversing the city I was headed to. The response that came from this half-way serious, mostly joking comment, has lived in my memory ever since: “Why? You’re not cute enough to be attacked.”
What a puzzling statement. I mean, I guess that’s a good thing…?! To not be cute enough…to essentially be your own natural mace? It was a slight – for whatever reason – from an individual I hardly knew. To this day I have no idea what I said in response to that comment, but it has been seared into my memory. And while I haven’t been terribly affected by it – it has actually served more as a laughable example of ridiculous things NOT to say to someone - it has unfortunately been associated with this person and…to me.
Thinking about this has automatically spurred the self-reflection of all the ridiculous things I’ve said throughout my life, to or about people - some of which may unfortunately be on repeat in someone’s mind as a part of their memory or opinion of me.
In some cases we have time to repair our “stranger things have been said/done” statements, judgments, actions, etc. But, not all the time…and oftentimes, while the person may graciously accept an apology or choose to overlook it – it can still live, because it was said/done.
What a harrowing thought - kind of paralyzing if I think about it too much. Could I possibly recount, return to, and repair every stupid/thoughtless thing I’ve said to/about people I’ve encountered over the last 29 years? Unfortunately, no. In fact, I doubt this person would even remember this exchange – and I wouldn’t even want them to.
I guess we’re here to live, let-go, and LEARN from not only the things said/done to us…but really, and more importantly, the things we’re doing/saying to others.
Dear Person from the Past/and the World,
Crappy things have been said to me. Crappy things have been said by me. I don’t really like the taste of said crap – either coming in or going out.
So I guess it's best to really live that golden rule: do unto others as you would have them do unto you...(with the addendum: even if “others” don’t always hold up their end of the deal).
The thing is, I would bet most people don't truly mean to have their words/actions live as long as they may be living in our minds - I know I don't. If I were confronted with all the things I’ve said I would be hurriedly looking for an eraser or the “edit” option. So, I guess why say or do it? Hmm, I don't know why I'm a jerk at times and why others can be too. But...
Here’s to a continued effort at a crap-free diet – because really, this is not only better for my health, but better for everyone else’s as well. Just don’t listen to me during rush hour…that doesn’t count, ok??
Val
Yep, please just call me val because, in my book, we’re friends.
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