Well, an awful lot of work, but you knew that already. I'm talking here about what I've been doing outside of work, the things I've forced myself to do because I want to do them and not because I have to. The first is that I'm singing again. A few months ago I auditioned for an 18-person chorus based in the city. The chorus has been around for a while and has a nicely challenging jazz repertoire (their own arrangements) that's taken me some time to learn... but I'm getting there, and I'll sing in a concert with them at the end of the month. So far, I'm so pleased to be a part. Everyone is very focused--lots of ex-professional singers--but it's clearly something that they do for fun, so I feel at home. And there is nothing like concentrating on a funky and difficult low alto line to force me out of my work-related stress. (The older I get the more my voice drops... I'll be singing male baritone parts soon.)
The second thing I've been wanting to do for a while is rowing. There's a 6-week learn-to-row program on the lake near us, and the rowing club is so close I can bike to it. I'm on a 4-person team of other novices, and I'm having a really great time. Unlike singing, which is a very comfortable experience for me, rowing takes me completely out of my comfort zone. While I've done a little kayaking, balancing on a rowing shell is much more difficult. I'm not used to being on a team, but especially a team that I could take down into the water pretty easily by incorrectly wielding an oar. The craziest part of the experience is how my performance on the water is such an obvious metaphor for my life, it seems lame to put into words. But the gist is this: if I would just chill the funk out, I could do some really great things. When I'm in the groove with the rest of my team on the water, my stroke is strong, and I'm not thinking too terribly much. But when I start to think--concentrating on my oar placement, or my gaze, or the fear of catching a crab--then everything turns to crap. At first, I stopped rowing. Now I'm to the point where I continue rowing, but my stroke is lousy. So I just need to stop thinking so much when I'm on the water, which is, of course, easier said than done.
And lastly, there is the beautiful boy, whose conversations and phrases make me laugh everyday and for whom I am so grateful. He is making such strides in terms of his speech, which is so much fun to see. He's also working on reading by sounding out letters and putting them together. He's been able to spell his first name for a while now, but now he's also working on his last name. Last weekend's project was painting his name with old bottles of white-out that I brought home from work. :)
