New post. First paragraph. Something about how this still somehow scares me. Mostly because I'm really not sure who you all are out there, potentially reading whatever may follow.

New paragraph, trying to brush of caring about my possible audience. Life is full right now--busy, but that's not really quite the right word. "Full" is a much better word, because I am so intrigued right now by what I'm doing--and "busy" seems so... frivolous, like I'm running around doing a million insignificant things. It's more like I'm running around doing two or three big, important things, and all the tiny things involved therewith. Well, they feel important to me. Teaching music and establishing a choir. And being a leader in an already-established choir--well, that is, stressing about being a leader. I haven't done a great deal of actual leading yet.

So that's what I'm doing, but that's boring. Let's talk about what I'm thinking about. I picked up a book at the bookstore a few days ago called "Living a Life That Matters" by a Jewish rabbi, can't remember his name. It was one of those serendipitous encounters, mine with this book, that happens sometimes to me, that lets me know God loves me and guides me. I was in the bookstore picking up materials for a French diction class I'm accompanying (I incidentally want to learn to speak French, so I'm treating it like I'm a student in the class). I was tired and out of it, and sort of staring mindlessly at the bookshelf (the Music books were right across the aisle from the Organizational Behavior books) and saw this title. "Living a Life That Matters", and thought: hm, that concerns me. Picked it up and started reading, and have yet to put it down, really.

He's got so many interesting ideas, the main one being the conflict that we all feel between our need to be good, moral people, and our need to matter, or be important, somehow receive recognition for what we've done. Now, my first thought was that these two things aren't mutually exclusive, are they? Can't a person find a way to matter and still be good and moral? But the Rabbi/author cites so many examples where these two needs create conflict, for instance when the pursuit of perfection or recognition or attainment causes causes us to violate our moral code. I find it interesting that he believes these needs (the need to think of ourselves as good, and the need to matter) are nearly as basic as our need for love, food, shelter, etc.

He also talks about mother-love vs. father-love. We need both. Mother-love is the sort of love that tells us "No matter how often you fail, how low you fall, who you kill, etc., I will always love you because you are my inherently lovable child." Father-love is a little different: father-love must be earned by our attainment. Father love says: "I love you because you have done such and such, overcome such and such obstacles, accomplished great things, etc." Of course we need to be loved unconditionally, but we also need to feel that we have earned and deserved love, that we have done well enough to make our Father proud. The idea of course being that our God embodies both of these kinds of love, the kind that pulls us out of, and validates us in the midst of, our deepest failures, as well as the kind that pushes us to work hard and attain great things. What a let-down it would be to work so hard to be good, either morally good, or good at something and then feel only that God is putting up with us or that He only loves us in spite of ourselves.

So I like these ideas. But one idea that makes me squirm a little is a definition of sin: to sin is to cut oneself off from relationships that require give and take. Yes, there is actually a Rabbi out there who, irrespective of the complicated nature of such a huge word as "sin," sums it up entirely in the context of relationships. I squirm because I find myself doing that, over and over, in such a variety of ways.... Obviously I don't have to accept his definition, but I have to say, I feel the truth in it.

...


More on this later.

High on Choral Music

Probably time for another one of these. I'm kind of on a sleep-deprived, choral-music-induced high right now. I just took ("experienced" is probably a better word) the final for 533, a graduate class in BYU's choral conducting program that I really shouldn't be allowed to take. (I'm not technically in the program at the moment.) But I took this final, preparing for which should have stressed me out, you know, conducting for Dr. Staheli in his office... But I loved it. I stayed up all night digging into the music, trying to make it part of me. I'm sure I'm not there yet, but I think I did ok, for the final.

So I really think that I've found something that is a right fit for me, with choral music. I'm not tired of it! I'm just getting started! I'm not second-guessing the decision to go in this direction! Yesterday I picked up two very heavy boxes full of 19th and 20th century choral music for the choral lit class I'm taking this fall, and oh the flutters and paroxysms of joy it caused in my tummy! Almost 300 pieces of mostly new music I've never seen before. So much music to ingest and digest and expand my brain with.

And such a fundamental way to make music. That must be the thing that appeals to me the most. I feel like I've gotten to the bottom of the musical experience. Learning to use the instrument God gave you, and learning to make it blend with other voices. So much of life is summed up in that description, don't you think?

Yup, I'm just getting started.

Can't sleep.

Aaargh! The best -laid plans... The idea is that I'm going for a 10-mile run tomorrow morning at 5:00am. Oh, that is to say this morning, in four hours. The problem with this idea is that when you train yourself for many long years to be a midnight to 7 or 8 or 9 type person, you don't, unfortunately, get to up and decide, for one day, to be a 9-5 sort of person.

Unfortunately.

Bahh!

Courage, II

Today I've had my life changed by George Sheehan. Do you know who he is? A runner/philosopher. And I can't think of a better thing to be. But that's not quite right, because 'being' certainly isn't (according to Sheehan...and according to Monica) subject to the right/wrong or good/bad dichotomy.

But the other thing I've had my life changed by is DI. Yes, you're right, Deseret Industries, Mormon version of the Salvation Army. And by the Provo Farmer's Market. Because the thing that a person doesn't have to contend with in company with these two institutions, is the ridiculously over-whelming voice of ..of... I'm not sure what to call it or where to place the blame... but of the world at large.. Babylon! There's the word. The voice of Babylon trying to tell you how to live, what to buy, how to dress, who to be. I found at these two institutions, however, the humble people. And I like them--I wish I was more like them. I'm so much more comfortable with them. So much would rather spend a day at DI than at the mall, so much rather laughing and trying to communicate with the non-English speaking man who sold me raspberries at the farmer's market.

And I just couldn't get enough. I spent some time sifting through the racks, searching for a much needed pair of jeans, then rambled through the shoe section and onto the books in the back. That's where I found George, and heard more clearly articulated the thoughts I was already starting to have, and the peace that was already starting to free me from the shoulds and musts and various injunctions and condemnations of a world intent on repressing the me out of me:

"When I was young, I knew who I was and tried to become someone else. I was a born loner. I came into this world with an instinct for privacy, a desire for solitude and an aversion to loud voices, to slamming doors and to my fellow man. I was born with the dread that someone would punch me in the nose or, even worse, put his arm around me."

(I almost cried so much did I identify with this paragraph.)

"But I refused to be that person. I wanted to belong. Wanted to become part of the herd, any herd. When you are shy and tense and self-conscious, when you are thin and scrawny and have an overbite and a nose that takes up about one third of your body surface, you want friends, you want to join with others. My problem was not individuality, but identity. I was more of an individual than I could handle. I had to identify with a group....

"I spent the next four decades [that makes me feel less old, and slightly less foolish] with these feelings of being unworthy and incomplete and inferior. Combating my own nature... Concealing the real me under layer after layer of coping and adjusting and compensating. All the while refusing to believe that the person I had initially rejected was the real me. All the while trying to pass as a normal member of society.

"Then I discovered running and began the long road back. Running made me free. It rid me of concern for the opinion of others. Dispensed me from rules and regulations imposed from outside. Running let me start from scratch."

Oh, and much more.

And as I drove home, thoughts such as these opened up my head and seemed very profound: where does the world get off trying to tell me how to dress (chiefly I'm thinking of "What Not To Wear" that crazy, addictive phenomenon), how to eat, how to exercise, how to structure my day, whether or not to structure my day, my week, month, life... where to shop, what's cool and in and hip, and what's not.. ? Huh? Because the crux of the matter is for me to find and remember how to be me, minus the crippling fear of judgment from one of these many outside voices.

And as I write this, no, I don't think these thoughts are terribly profound, in a general sense. A common problem, common subject. But important to me right now.

I've decided it takes a certain amount of courage to be a blogger. One of my co-workers agrees with me. She's a blog-stalker, like I've never met before. But I can't blame her; it can be an extremely enlightening activity. (She got me started, it's true.) It's kind of like a way more intense version of people-watching.

But I digress. Easy to be a blog-stalker, much harder to actually walk the walk.

Writing, taken as a thing in itself, can be very useful. I'm someone who frequently writes emails to myself. Now you must understand that this is not like journaling. Journaling is much more permanent. Writing in a journal is ink on bound paper, to be filed when the last page is reached, for posterity to peruse. It's serious stuff. But writing yourself emails--two clicks and it's gone forever. In that way it's served as a very healthy way for me to vent pent-up feelings, make important decisions, clarify my thoughts on this or that issue.

And of course it's all very safe and internal. And temporary.

But if you happen to be a person who worries, from time to time, about what other people might think (not that I have any sympathy whatsoever with such people...); if you fear others' judgment; if you sometimes feel not quite good enough or smart enough or clever or cute or witty or stylish or interesting or disinterested or political or apolitical or domestic or bohemian or married or single or employed or educated or (adjectives ad nauseum) enough, blogging might not be for you. Your thoughts, the events of your life, your friends, family, interests, activities, pictures--the idea is that it's all out there in the open for all manner of observers. So the question becomes, am I ok enough with myself to publish myself? And that is the question.

...

I therefore issue a call to all blog-stalkers, would-be bloggers whose fears have hitherto kept them in silence: join with me, won't you, and let us blog together above our fears.

"I should not be awake..."

I wrote this early this morning, pre-Monica's blog.. but I think close enough to it's creation to deserve a spot here.

Freinds, it's 2 in the morning. Why am I still awake? Well, I was working on this assignment for a class I'm auditing, and procrastination and distraction led me to start looking through some of my old compositions. What a trip that was folks. Some of that stuff I haven't looked at in years.

I was struck in particular by this arrangement of "Jesus Savior Pilot Me" that I wrote, must have been 2003-2004 school year, the year after I got back from my mission. I spent so much time on that arrangement. (I tend to hyper-focus when I compose.) And it's so impassioned! It's sort of an art song... with some oddly pop-ish harmonies thrown in.. But so romantically conceived, harmonically, texturally, so much word-painting, in fact that seemed the thing I was chiefly concerned with.

At first I was excited to have re-discovered it, and wondered why I had totally forgotten about it! But after spending some more time with it tonight.. I think it may be fatally flawed. So many pervasive errors in judgment, that really can't be corrected to create a *good* song... They just needed to grow up. And I wonder if I've done any growing up since then, musically speaking.

So you know how looking at old pictures, old work you've done, reading old journal entries, anything from the past really, can be so painful? Well, this was kind of like that, but kind of not. Somehow I was able to objectively look at this song and say, " This here and this is silly, and it's way overdone, totally over-composed. But I think this girl has promise!" I hope that doesn't sound too arrogant, but I think it does mean I've grown up some. I may just have to re-visit "Jesus Savior", a little more thoughtfully this time, maybe a little more neo-classically....

Names

So I've been thinking about names in the last little bit, trying to come up with a name for my blog... and also about my own given name. Honestly, I'm a little divided, and have been for years now, about my name. Monica. Two meanings: "solitary," (think words that begin with 'mono') and "advisor." Scary, both of them.

I like that it's a relatively uncommon and somewhat unique name. I don't like what some people (i.e. prime-time TV, certain White House interns) have done to my name in the last decade or so. But I think it's somewhat musical, especially the triple-duple effect of my first and last names together.

More about this later. I better publish before I talk myself out of this whole blog idea...