Let's Make a Memory
Posted on Aug 8th, 2007
by
Zentertainment Talk Radio
"Let's make a memory." That's my new thing. Everyday I do something cool even if I feel like------- and I say, "I am making a memory. "
It makes you stop and slow down. It makes you focus on something good that you will remember. It's building a life that is more than struggle, more than the challenges we face...
Memories don't have to be big things, it's the little things. Just like the small details make the music great. It's not always the notes, it's how you play them. Sometimes one note can be played more beautifully by a pro than an entire piece by an amateur show off. Play that one note with all you've got, and it will sing.
If I don't consciously say, "I am making a memory," then I am left with the mess of feeling ill everyday and all that this brings with it. Then days become a blur of suffering. I am left with nothing more than the feeling that so much has been taken away from me. As Laura Hillenbrand wrote to me, "this illness is a thief, isn't it?" Perhaps that is why she wrote "Seabiscuit," and why I cried when I saw it.
But there is this hope inside, there is this persistence, what Erin Brokovitch calls "Stick-to-it-ive-ness." And look at what Seabiscuit did in spite of such handicaps!
Last week I was at the farmer's market in Westport CT, and I bought some vegetables from a stand. As I was leaving, I noticed a bunch of gorgeous sunflowers. It was such a beautiful warm summer day, and the colors were vibrant like a painting.
As I was about to leave, I asked the teenage boy working the stand about the flowers, and he said, "Oh those, here, you can just have them." He went over and grabbed the whole bunch, and gave them to me.
I told him, "Wow. You made my day."
Then I walked away with 5 giant sunflowers in hand and grocery bags overflowing with fresh organic produce and honey.
When someone does something nice for us, free, without any strings attached, it inspires us to "pay it forward." That small act put a smile on my face.
It was a memory.
I have felt so far away from what I would like to be doing- touring, recording etc etc and I often feel like I am on the sidelines of my life, trying to get well, to cure this thing, so I can get back in the the land of the living, again.
It seems like I am being forced to create a new type of life from the bench. So we take what we have, and work with it.
Create where you are. Bloom where you are planted. Let the rest go. Oh how I love to preach to myself.
I am not giving up.
So I sang Sarah my song. It felt so good. I was alive, and was affirming that in me!
I am sitting outside right now as I write this. Somehow writing is also a way to affirm life, for me. I feel less alone when I write. I am able to put things into words instead of just feelings, and that brings clarity.
Theoretically.
Today it is humid and sticky like chewing gum on the side of a hot car tire. Even the water is hot. But there is a breeze.
I feel totally totally wiped out right now. But happy to be alive and be here.
I made lemonade an hour ago. Since I am out of sugar literally and metaphorically, I used Agave Nectar. It's really good, even better than sugar. Just 1/4 of a lemon with 6 oz or so of water and a few tablespoons fo agave.
Who says you can't make lemonade without sugar? You see- we discover new possibilities, new roads, when the ones we had counted on, close. Yeah this one is unpaved and bumpy and full of scary bugs. But it's a road, and I am creating it. The scenery is raw and undeveloped. It' not a journey for anyone but the strong willed. No one else could survive it.
So I sit here in the 90 degree humidity, in the shade drinking my "alternative" lemonade, and I smile.
It's a memory.
It makes you stop and slow down. It makes you focus on something good that you will remember. It's building a life that is more than struggle, more than the challenges we face...
Memories don't have to be big things, it's the little things. Just like the small details make the music great. It's not always the notes, it's how you play them. Sometimes one note can be played more beautifully by a pro than an entire piece by an amateur show off. Play that one note with all you've got, and it will sing.
If I don't consciously say, "I am making a memory," then I am left with the mess of feeling ill everyday and all that this brings with it. Then days become a blur of suffering. I am left with nothing more than the feeling that so much has been taken away from me. As Laura Hillenbrand wrote to me, "this illness is a thief, isn't it?" Perhaps that is why she wrote "Seabiscuit," and why I cried when I saw it.
But there is this hope inside, there is this persistence, what Erin Brokovitch calls "Stick-to-it-ive-ness." And look at what Seabiscuit did in spite of such handicaps!
Last week I was at the farmer's market in Westport CT, and I bought some vegetables from a stand. As I was leaving, I noticed a bunch of gorgeous sunflowers. It was such a beautiful warm summer day, and the colors were vibrant like a painting.
As I was about to leave, I asked the teenage boy working the stand about the flowers, and he said, "Oh those, here, you can just have them." He went over and grabbed the whole bunch, and gave them to me.
I told him, "Wow. You made my day."
Then I walked away with 5 giant sunflowers in hand and grocery bags overflowing with fresh organic produce and honey.
When someone does something nice for us, free, without any strings attached, it inspires us to "pay it forward." That small act put a smile on my face.
It was a memory.
I have felt so far away from what I would like to be doing- touring, recording etc etc and I often feel like I am on the sidelines of my life, trying to get well, to cure this thing, so I can get back in the the land of the living, again.
It seems like I am being forced to create a new type of life from the bench. So we take what we have, and work with it.
Create where you are. Bloom where you are planted. Let the rest go. Oh how I love to preach to myself.
I am not giving up.
So I sang Sarah my song. It felt so good. I was alive, and was affirming that in me!
I am sitting outside right now as I write this. Somehow writing is also a way to affirm life, for me. I feel less alone when I write. I am able to put things into words instead of just feelings, and that brings clarity.
Theoretically.
Today it is humid and sticky like chewing gum on the side of a hot car tire. Even the water is hot. But there is a breeze.
I feel totally totally wiped out right now. But happy to be alive and be here.
I made lemonade an hour ago. Since I am out of sugar literally and metaphorically, I used Agave Nectar. It's really good, even better than sugar. Just 1/4 of a lemon with 6 oz or so of water and a few tablespoons fo agave.
Who says you can't make lemonade without sugar? You see- we discover new possibilities, new roads, when the ones we had counted on, close. Yeah this one is unpaved and bumpy and full of scary bugs. But it's a road, and I am creating it. The scenery is raw and undeveloped. It' not a journey for anyone but the strong willed. No one else could survive it.
So I sit here in the 90 degree humidity, in the shade drinking my "alternative" lemonade, and I smile.
It's a memory.

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