Be Here Now

"Be Here Now" - these words keep running through my head. Singer Cyndi Lauper reportedly said them to a man who was recording her concert with her cell phone a couple of years back. She wanted him to live in the moment and enjoy the show.

I have written about living in the present moment before. Recently, I've been having a difficult time with this.. It is as if I'm existing in some sort of bubble and am not able to embrace the life that I have. I feel like I'm "here", but strangely absent at the same time. Perhaps it is better to describe my life as some movie that I am watching. I go for walks or out to the bookstore and feel happy, yet, as soon as I get back home, I want to hide within myself again. I interact with others but am somehow distant. A thin filmy glass shield covers me and I want to break through. Is this the "suffering" that the Buddhists speak of? It is not really painful - just disconcerting.

I have reached again for my books by Eckhart Tolle and Louise Hay, they got me through past periods of ennui and I again  need their wisdom. This life that I have wandered into is mine, yet it feels like someone else's. I wonder sometimes if I am auditioning life, instead of living it. Trying on a new shirt to see if it fits and if not, discarding it for a different size or cut. Living in so many different places in the past couple of years, I have been trying on different lives with different people. I was used to living my own life - in my own space - for so long. But these days, I circumnavigate through the world of others and try not to kick up too much dust. Is this shyness? Is this shame? Perhaps it is a combination of both.

One thing I have learned in the past couple of years is the impermanence of life. I have seen how quickly circumstances can change - due to health or emergency. This show will end, at some point and I need to be here now, and enjoy it. As they say, this too, shall pass.

Musicians in Awe

Right now, I'm sitting in Harrisburg's coolest place, The Midtown Scholar. It is in the process of changing from day time used bookstore, to night time concert setting. The young musicians and singers for tonight's show are wandering around the place, looking up at the balconies and wooden ceiling and wall murals and saying "this is so cool!". One of them put down his banjo and is making flying leaps across the stage and marveling at it's length. They look so happy.

I remember my very first professional gig, with Rhythm Transfer. It was at "Friendly Fred's Pine Tree Inn", someplace up on a hill about an hour from my mom's house. The Pine Tree Inn was famous for seafood - odd for being a mountain top place in Pennsylvania. They had outdoor seating and inside, some of the tables and chairs were moved aside to make a dance floor. The band played on a little stage that was barely big enough for the five of us to set up. I arrived at the gig a little later than I was supposed to because my mother drove me. I was 18 years old and had no idea what to do, onstage, when I wasn't singing lead. Mark, the bassist, told me I could follow along and throw in backup vocals to the other songs, by following what he played on his bass. That made no sense to me, at the time. The bass notes were so much lower than my voice! I was so nervous that I threw up before we took the stage. That night, I wore a blue and white button-down blouse, a white lace vest and blue jeans. I sang our cover version of Linda Ronstadt's Blue Bayou as well as "Le Freak", by Chic. On that first night, I remember thinking how boring it was to sing the lines "Freak out!", "Now Freak" and "I Said Freak" over and over again.  Maybe if we would have had a crowd on the dance floor, it would have felt exciting - but the 3 women dancing without partners just stepped back and forth to the beat. It also didn't help that Rhythm Transfer was, essentially, playing in the dark.  Our "light system" consisted of 2 home-made wooden boxes, each containing a red, yellow, and blue light that were operated by the guitarist with a foot pedal. That night, I met the "wives and girlfriends" of the band. I never quite knew my place with them, since I was chummy with their husbands and boyfriends, my band mates. But, I'll never forget the comment made by the sax player's girlfriend, Heidi: "Treasure this - these will be some of the best memories of your life" She was right. I sang hundreds of nights after that, in 6 different bands. Nothing compared to the fun I had with Rhythm Transfer. 

The young band setting up at Midtown Scholar has dragged in a heavy flight case-covered amplifier, A big guitar amp and 3 guitar cases. But, they haven't started to set up yet. Looks like they're having too much fun joking around and drinking coffee. May they treasure these moments.

In a Nutshell

Ponder

Whine

Attempt to Say Something Relevant

Introspective Question

Cliched Quote

More Grousing

Memory and Profound Question

Statement

Ha! I've Exposed Myself

Bridges

My favorite place to walk in my hometown used to be along the river and across the Walnut Street Bridge. I was finally able to make that trip again, this past Saturday afternoon. The Walnut Street Bridge became a pedestrian-only span, after Hurricane Agnes, in 1972, made the decades-old structure too unsafe for cars. In the mid-1990's, another big storm took out a section on the opposite side, so you can no longer walk the whole way across the Susquehanna River. When I took my walk, it was as if 25 years hadn't passed since the last time I crossed the span. The metal grated-road covers the steel girders and supports. I used to pretend that I had to balance on one of the beams, or else I'd fall into the river. I walked heel-toe, heel-toe all the way from Front Street to City Island, where the minor league baseball team The Senators now play. Notice the Market Street Bridge, in the background. It has arched spans for the river to flow through. Several of Harrisburg's bridges have arches.

Until Saturday, the last bridge I walked over was the University Bridge, in Seattle. It is an old draw span, with metal grating and it crosses the Lake Washington Ship Canal, that connects Lake Washington to Lake Union. When you walk across this bridge, you never know if you'll have to wait while it goes up to let a boat through. I used to enjoy daydreaming into the water, until the span was lowered - watching the sailboats or tug boats pass by underneath. I often wondered what it would be like to be a bridge tender.

And this is the Pont Neuf bridge in Paris (Pont Neuf means "new bridge" - nowadays it is the oldest bridge in Paris but it was named the "new bridge" when it was built). I walked across it in 1999, so I could take a boat tour down the River Seine. You can see the boats on the right hand side. Also notice the arches on the span.  I remember being struck by the arched bridge and found it funny that Paris could remind me of Harrisburg. Strange how the city of my dreams could resemble the town from which I couldn't wait to escape.