What if these hormonal shifts and the ensuing cacophony of shorter cycles, longer bleeds, stronger cramps, rampant headaches and pointed miserable-ness were efforts to “tune” me?
What if that means that I can no longer rely on those quick “repairs” that have withstood the test of time–like wine and water and good company–to lift my notes into sweetness?
What if these dramatic scores demand greater skill and discipline, like that of a classical musician?
What if my strings keep breaking each time I tighten them into harmony?
Perhaps the time has come for me to step down from the conductor’s stand…
to lay down the instrument of my desire…
and to allow the universe
“Sing through my voice,
Play through my hands,
Let the way be open.”
(lyrics: Abby Spinner & J. Magnus McBride)
Kelly Salasin, July 2011
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