I realised how inextricably my life is identical to my relationship to my violin.
I was excited to by the piece of wood, who knew the rhythm would be in my life as well?
Over the past few weeks, it has been hard to stay positive. It has been hard to give me reasons to get out of bed and live. It has been had for the wood to fight the monsoon vapours....
So I've started to focus on the pain of everything in me, and else. And I've started to feel more of this focused stuff. Pain. Pain and Neglect, and Conflict and Voices. Pain.
But today, today in a fit I decided to stay up late. Stay up and wave at the morning sun. And I noticed my anger, and my unhappiness. I ignored my work, my needs, my writing. And I instead just stood there. Alone. Looking. Looking out my window.
And I recited a poem. I recited "daffodils" again and again. And in another spur I eased my neck. In another I started experimenting melodies. And I noticed I had begun to play them in my violin.
It is so incredible, so reassuring and pure. How everything comes to a seeming equilibrium on its own. I don't mean to romanticise the pain I caused myself, but the notion of my body naturally progressing out of it; no matter how much my mind won't let me do it.
Just to remember, I don't have to do anything, I don't have to push relentlessly, we have time for these things. To stop and take notice of my reality. I have time. To wander and to wonder in my world and it's albeit dark crevices. I have time. We have time.