My Newest Random Skill

I am a woman who wears many hats.

I teach music.
I play piano for dancers.
I run errands for little old ladies
and tutor a boy with autism.

And that is just what I do for work.
My repertoire of what I do for fun is just as varied:
writing, weight-training, playing in bands,
spending hours practicing music or hours trekking through the woods.

But this past week, I added a new activity to my list of random undertakings:

Whispers And Screams

Saturday morning I packed a small bag with snacks, my camera, and my journal, then headed out for a "Misty" day. Friends had been unable to join me, so I set out for a day of solo adventuring. But, knowing it often happens on my solo adventures, I hoped he would show up.

At a nearby park, I hiked down towards the river that ran underground into a cave---not a hike with the intention of achieving a particular heart rate or feeling the burn in my muscles---I simply desired to walk towards him. The breeze brushed my skin, and the coolness of underground air wrapped around me. I breathed the woodsy scent of trees and nature and paused to look upwards where the sun shone through an opening of treetops.

But This Time, I Ignored Fear

The past several weeks I have been

pulled,
stretched,
dragged,
and completely yanked
right out of my comfort zone.

In a brief amount of time, I've had to face an overwhelming amount of "new" and "uncomfortable." I've had to push myself to do those things I'd always convinced myself I couldn't do. Surprising my own self, I haven't yet had an emotional explosion, no tearful breakdown, no trembling moments of panic.

For probably the first time in my life, I've had to ignore fear.

Because She Didn't Know

Her answer was so honest and simple,
but brought deep sadness to my heart.

One of my seventh grade students sat in front of me and,
as my students often do,
filled me in on the recent events of her life.

"I'm going to see an orthodontist next week," 
she relayed suddenly in the middle of her lesson.
  
"You are?" I asked. "What for? Are you getting braces?"

"I don't know, maybe," she answered quietly.
With exposed insecurity,
she dropped her head
and added softly with a shrug,
"I might get them. I don't know if my teeth look bad or not." 
I noted the self-conscious brush of her hand to her face,
in an effort to hide her perfectly normal, adorable mouth.