rub your arms moments: are you listening?

i once had a teacher
who would rub her arms 
full of goosebumps and implore
her class,
"shhh! shhhh!!
did you hear it?!
weren't you listening?!"

she was not everyone's favorite.

she gave us B's.
sometimes C's.

shook her head
and told us we weren't trying hard enough,
just when we thought we were.


she marched out when we were

impossible.

she pursed her lips, piercing 
us with silence, when we

didn't listen.

she moaned when we couldn't

hear our own faults.

and worse...
she made us do it 
again & again & again.


we would say, i'm no good.

she would say, you can be.

we would say, i can't.

she would say, you can.

we would say, i won't ever.

she would say, you will.

but we loved her.

when she was absent for even a day,

we begged to have her back.

she stole our hearts.

we might not have known.

she might not have known.

regardless.
it didn't matter.
because she taught us
what she was.

 

melody.

rhythm. 

movement.

moments.

music.

she taught us these things.

but most importantly
she taught us

to listen.

to listen to 
our own voice.

to the voice beside us.

and the voices all around.

she taught us to love beauty.

beauty that we

all

standing together

working toward one thing...

created. 

together.

she taught us

harmony and perfection

could come into a single moment.


she taught us to
notice the moments.

she would gasp.
and glow.
her excitement
and wonder penetrating the room,
rubbing her arms.


"did you hear it?!
are you listening?"


the body knows beauty.


but she taught us to listen for it.
and appreciate it.


this teacher
she doesn't know. 
she can't.
of how often my mind wanders to her.
to her classes
where she would push and push us.
bubble with pleasure
rubbing to her arms...


because of her,
there is always something for me
about a choir...
those moments.
only envoked by voices
working together.
to create
those moments of perfection... harmony
and utter beauty.


hmmm...
it touches something deep inside.


do you hear it?
are you listening?


may choirs find you.
or 
may you find them.
and may you notice
the moments.
and rub arms full of goosebumps.


let the season begin,
natalie.

ps beautiful images found here. here & here.

easter: tradition

i was on the phone

with my mom

just the other day.

we talked of the upcoming

holiday:

easter.

being far away from

family and friends,

i asked what festivities

would be taking place at home

without me.

the easter egg hunt?

the egg dying?

the visiting easter bunny?

lunch?

brunch?

family photos?

no, she replied.

the usual easter festivities

are on pause

until another year, she said.

because

this year my family finds itself

stationed in various

locations

around the globe.

we are not together.

and so the usual is not

the usual this year.

before i knew what was happening.

i was .... angry.

at my mom.

my mom?

whose children have traveled far

from her by their own accord.

whose children are not filling

her house this holiday.

i was angry at

my mom.

because when you are not home.

you imagine that home still goes on.

in fact, you need it to.

because it is home.

it's your culture.

it's your traditions.

it has made you

who you are.

but what i sometimes forget...

is that MY CHOICES

affect the whole.

MY CHOICES, 

not to be classified as

good

or

bad.

but just as MY CHOICES.

they affect my mom,

they affect home.

my irrational anger

turned to simple disappointment,

all the while giving me 

greater understanding

of myself

of what i want

and what i desire in life.

i realized that i needed

the traditions.

the remembrance of the traditions

when i find myself

a long way from home.

because it is the traditions

that serve as a reminder of

who i am

of who i want to be

and of where i come from.

because sometimes it takes 

distance for you

realize that you need

reminders.

reminders 

of who you are.

who you want to be.

and where it is you came from.

so, dear friends,

make the traditions.

remind your family, your friends, 

your sisters, 

your children, your aunties

and cousins.

 remind them to mark the days.

because someday

you might find that your little girl

has traveled a long way

from home.

and you might find that you miss her on

the special days.

but you can be sure...

you can be sure that the traditions,

the way you marked the days,

while they might have

seemed foolish,

so much work and effort 

at the time.

you can be sure,

that she now holds onto them.

perhaps clings to them

as she is out there

in the world.

as she walks confidently out into

the world,

she holds within her

bits of you

that you gave her

steadily over the years.

she might never acknowledge it.

to you

or even herself.

but it matters.

the traditions,

they matter.

mark the days.

so when distance separates,

you can be reminded.

that is...

if you need a reminder

which, sometimes we do.

this is how my mom celebrated her easter day this year.

with a small red pot of tea, the afternoon sun, along the mississippi river...

this is how i celebrated my easter day this year.

with some friends, a blanket, the afternoon sun, along the river...

happy easter.