Post Concert Season Doldrums

Singing is a lot of work. Good exercise. AVAE is dark for the summer. Noticing a pattern here. After the last concert, unless I have other work lined up, I get a little down. It's nice to have a little break, but then I want to get back to practicing, rehearsing, whatever, to keep the pipes open and oxygenate.

This year was different. More than a little down.

There are other circumstances which are really getting on my nerves that are making it harder to focus on recent changes in my body. Namely, I can now see the cataract in my left eye, or rather, there is a tiny line that is out of focus right in the middle.

Damn. When I close my right eye, I see double, just ever so slightly. There's the line of type, and a faint offset line just below it. Damn. Time for the eye doctor.

Of course when one thing starts to change, it's easy to fall into fear-of-being-a-bag-lady mode and it becomes a little more tedious to turn the thinking around.

A trick that sometimes works for me is heaping gratitude upon the universe for making progress on other fronts. Things I am grateful for: Z-coil shoes that make walking relatively pain-free. My friend Darnelle who transformed my living room over the Memorial Day weekend. My wonderful daughter who sends me flowers every Mother's Day. Vicariously enjoying her travels to Tokyo and Dusseldorf. Fabulous neighbors who trade kitteh-sitting and are great cooks and take my trash out when my back is out.

That's barely scratching the surface. Haven't even gotten to my sisters and the Rat Pack at work.

The other trick I do is make myself write about it--sooner or later. If I keep meeting resistance, I throw the I Ching. In the forty-two years since a mystic English professor introduced the Ching to me, after an evening locked in the zoo, witnessing the animals come to life, I have never failed to find a key to gather my wits.

So this weekend is planned. Pick up Z-coil sandals, never-ending laundry, and maybecatch Star Trek at the Alamo South. Got a taste for the "Wild at Artichoke Heart" pizza there--roasted garlic, goat cheese, chokes, sun-dried tomatoes, and excellent fresh-brewed iced tea...and it's in walking distance.

I feel better already.


Kay Dennison said...

I do understand. The list just keeps getting longer for me, too. My late mother-in-law used to say that after 70, it's all maintenance. She didn't lie,

I had cataract surgery in 2oo6 and it's a wondrous thing that I blogged about: http://kaysthinkingcap.blogspot.com/search?q=cataract

Drop me a note on your back problems, I had a wonderful doctor who took care of that, too at University hospital in Cleveland and it might work for you.

Good neighbors and friends are such a godsend and I have been blessed, too.

I am delighted to see you in a better frame of mind.

Joy Des Jardins said...


Between my 61 year-old house and 62 year-old me I feel like I'll be in 'maintainence hell' from here on out. So far my house is winning. I can only hope I stay above it all....and keep paddling. Keep smiling sweetie...we're all in the same boat. Good luck with your cataract problem/surgery...whatever you decide to do...and take care...Hugs, Joy

kokopelliwoman said...

Kay, thanks, what a thoughtful gift--a real life account of your experience. Knowledge conquers fear. It really helps to know you're not alone.

kokopelliwoman said...

Well, I can't think of more stellar company for the ride. We'll just have a cup of tea and friendly chat. Bring your handicraft projects. :)

kokopelliwoman said...

Joy and Kay--brilliant photos! Does my soul a treat to behold vibrant, strong women taking on the universe.

joared said...

Can attest to the psych jolt at discovering I had a cataract. "I am too young for this," I thought. I managed well for a few years, gradually decided on my own to not drive at night when traffic lights looked like green and red starbursts. Had the surgery and it was an experience without complications. Eventually had to have the other eye done with no problems there either. Just follow the instructions for aftercare.

I think it's been about ten years now. I recall how visual lives were so limited before the lens implant was devised. This is a truly beneficial miraculous procedure for which I am grateful every day.

kokopelliwoman said...

Thanks for the confidence booster, joared. My grandmother was completely blind by the time she was 60, and I think of how the quality of our lives differ and am also deeply grateful.