More Augustine!

From the Holy Gospel of Rhetoric, according to St. Zerbe--or rather, from The Rhetorical Tradition.

And so a little thing is a little thing, but to be faithful in a little thing is a great thing.

and (this one came as I was literally nodding off over the text, at the ridiculously early hour of 9 pm)

But too, the mighty torrent of eloquence with which these words rush on, even one snoring in sleep must notice.

Oh, how amusing is God's sense of humor!

"Could I believe that such work... as mine could give delight to the mighty God"?

Three posts in one day:  yikes!  But writing has been my break in between chunks of homework and practicing, so I suppose that makes it a bit less mortifying.

God’s timing astounds me.  I was reading some documents for History of England, and to my delight found several passages that spoke to me.  One was from Aquinas’ Summa Contra Gentiles, talking about happiness as man’s final end and how in we cannot have it in this life, but the fact that we desire it so ardently indicates that it is what God intends for us.  I read also from The Canterbury Tales the description of the Plowman, and how “First he loved God, with all his heart and will,/Always, and whether life went well or ill;/And next—and as himself—he loved his neighbor.”  The keys to a good life summed up in three verses of poetry.  Then I read the delightful “Tumbler of Our Lady,” the tale of a man who wants to forsake the world for a monastery yet grieves that he has no skill that might be useful within the monastery.  So finally he resolves, “I will do that which I can, and honour with my craft the Mother of God in her monastery.  Since others honor her with chant, then I will serve with tumblings.  He tells Our Lady, “Lady, to your fair charge I give my body and my soul.  Sweet Queen, sweet Lady, scorn not the thing I know, for with the help of God I will essay to serve you in good faith, even as I may.  I cannot read your Hours nor chant your praise, but at the least I can set before you what art I have.”  (emphasis mine)  Our Lady demonstrates her pleasure with his service by coming to him, angels and archangels in attendance, in the presence of the Abbot (although he does not see her, the abbot does).

What can I, or anyone, really, learn from this?  That what God wants is for us to give back to Him the gifts He has bestowed on us—not yearn to be blessed with other than what we have.  He is most pleased with those who serve Him with what they have, no matter what that may be.

And with that, the authoress and musician can scurry back to her work with renewed spirits!

A thought

I found this quote, lost it, and recently found it again at The Shrine of the Holy Whapping. It's one of my favorite quotes, out of the mouth of one of the greatest Catholic fantasty/fiction writers the English language has ever known: J.R.R. Tolkien. Read it, ponder it, cherish it:

"Out of the darkness of my life, so much frustrated, I put before you the one great thing to love on earth: the Blessed Sacrament. There you will find romance, glory, honour, fidelity, and the true way of all your loves on earth.”

Such a day

It was a crazy day, followed by a crazy night; they definitely felt like two disjointed time periods.

First, I didn't fall asleep until about 2 am (insert me singing Anna Nalick here!) and then woke up around 7:30. I think that was probably the most sleep I've gotten all week--I have the wonkiest sleep patterns right now. I was so exhausted in my classes.

Hopefully those habits will be soon remedied, though... I resigned from my marching band position this afternoon.

I called Andy to tell him I needed to sit down with him and discuss a few things. A couple hours later, I found myself standing in his doorway saying, "I need to leave this position." He was shocked and disappointed, but he didn't really try to talk me out of it. He left me alone in his office to write up an official letter of resignation, and I had to make real effort to keep the tears from rolling down my face. When I actually signed it, I started crying. Andy discreetly ushered me out of the school, and bid me farewell with a reminder that I know where to find him and the kids. I got in my car and starting weeping without shame. As much emotional turmoil as accompanied that job, I did love the kids and hated to leave them. But it's better this way, for everyone--but especially for me.

After that, I tried to cheer myself by getting my baton for choral conducting. And cheer myself I did; Sarah and I both got $23 batons for $8. That made my day that much better.

I went to Mass tonight and am convinced I fell asleep at least twice. Yes, it really is possible to sleep while kneeling. I always wondered how that worked. Heh. Now I know.

Then I ended up spending three hours in the WVYC station talking to Nick Volpe and watching how he runs his radio program. He wants Nessun Trio Nome on there in a couple weeks, and I'm incredibly psyched. He's so passionate about what he does; it encouraged me greatly.

~~~

In other news, I fear that my plan to go to Boston and build flutes will be brought to naught. Powell doesn't seem to be needing new builders and Brannen straight up told me they aren't taking on anyone at this time. Bleh. Back to the drawing board.

~~~

I'm really glad that I gave up marching band, but I'm afraid that all my terrific time management skills will go down the toilet now that I'm not as crazy busy as I was. I felt like even though I had no time, I was at least using the time I did have well. Now that it's slightly less life-threatening, I really fear that I'll not use it.

~~~

Trio rehearsal is tomorrow at ten. I think I'll have breakfast out before that (diner or Dunkin' Donunts, mmm), and then I come home around noon to make lunch, do laundry, and throw myself into homework and practicing. Will I use that time wisely? I can only hope... Or I suppose, it's more like, yes, if I put real effort into it.

So I really am not WonderWoman

I’m really not that interested in doing my Advanced Composition homework right now.  I’d much rather be home doing my nails (for the first time in… a rather long time) or in the perpetual adoration chapel I lately discovered only a couple blocks from here.  

I love going to that chapel now.  It’s so peaceful and serene.  I can think there; it’s my space away from life and its messiness to just exist and to pray.  

I’m also learning to love shopping (I know, I know, materialistic).  I went with Linds today and found some black pants for the trio recital and a couple very fun shirts.  Can’t leave without accessories, too, so I got a ring and two pairs of earrings.  It felt like it took FOREVER to find anything, but I’m definitely pleased with the things I purchased.

I think I need to reconsider my marching band position.  I will be writing Andy an e-mail tonight.  When I sat down to figure out where all my time is going, I discovered that I’m spending ~30 hours a week with that band.  In addition, I’m doing 10 a week as a work-study.  I’m trying to carry a full-time job and 17.5 credit hours of upper division classes.  No wonder I can’t find time to eat or practice:  it’s amazing I can find time to breathe.

Back to the homework, or perhaps to that unfortunate e-mail I have to write to Andy.

Daily Dose of Augustine

Your St. Augustine quote of the day:

Now, may our God be our hope. He who made all things is better than all things. He who made all beautiful things is more beautiful than all of them. He who made all mighty things is more mighty than all of them. He who made all great things is greater than all of them.

Learn to love the Creator in his creature, and the maker in what he has made.

-- Commentary on Psalm 39, 9

Saturday Morning Musing

I have decreed this weekend as homeworking-practicing-cleaning catch up weekend. I will not show my face to the outside world until I have successfully completed everything I planned to in these arenas. Which is probably a good thing, considering both how busy I am and how emotionally/spiritually messed up I am right now.

I verbalize my frustration and upset so easily anymore, largely due to the fact that it feels like that's what's "expected" of me as a woman and an artist. Truth be told, I'm really more comfortable hiding my emotion (which often isn't good, either) and looking things rationally (which is good).

Case in point: yesterday would have marked three months that A and I were "officially interested" if we hadn't called it off at the end of August. He never technically asked me out, so really weren't "boyfriend and girlfriend." Two thoughts on this--1) I should stop referring to him as my ex. 2) I was a little upset yesterday, and it almost took over a few times, even though I know that we're wrong for each other. I nearly let emotion overrule reason--because it's what's "expected" in certain circles of a girl who's been hurt, not necessarily because I felt that way.

What happened to me being faithful to my understanding of myself? I desperately need to get back in touch with my Catholic identity. It's only lately dawned on me that my inattention to my Faith is a large part of what's causing me so much grief. Yes, I go to Mass on Sunday and ardently mean my prayers while I'm there. But during the week, I'm what Aquinas termed the "moral pagan" (and he allowed their existence only because Christ hadn't come yet). I'm a good person, generally, without very much specificity. I hesitate to speak up or leave or otherwise make myself look like I have a particular set of beliefs.

I try so hard to do things on my own, as well. I keep neglecting the fact that without God's grace, I'm not capable of any good. I need to re-order my life.

It's interesting to me to realize that all my fears about this semester have come to pass... and that I really don't care. I was so concerned that my "friends" would all vanish once I ceased being the one who carved time out of my schedule. And so they have, with the exception of a few, with whom I'm actually becoming closer now that I have less time to spend with them.

I thought I'd be devastated to be "alone." I'm actually finding it quite refreshing. This is the first time since I entered college that I've really been free from massive peer dependency. It's a wonderful feeling. I felt trapped for so long and didn't know how to break out. And then I just... did. Well, it's not quite as simple as that, but pretty close.

Another Day, Another Identity Crisis

One week, two conducting classes, two rhet theory classes, two advanced comp classes later, one woodwind sectional, one chair placement list later, and my rhetorical resolve has been shaken. I truly love music and writing with an equal passion.

What's a girl to do?

Tonight Eastern performs in their first competition of the season. It should prove exceedingly interesting, as last night we had to cut the final number from the field show because only had two mintues left to get all the kids and equipment off the field. In spite of the fact that it hasn't always been easy or "fun" and is such a huge time commitment, I'm really enjoying my stint with the kids and staff from Eastern.

"Sometimes the Unexplained Can Define You"

The title is a random lyric from one of my favorite bands, Nickel Creek. It feels very applicable this morning.

Eastern's football team lost something fierce last night: 78 - 7. Poor guys. Not that I actually paid attention to the game. I just happened to notice that scoreboard kept changing on the side that said "Visitor." Never a good way to start the season. The band, however, was fantastic. They ended up performing their show twice: once pre-game (as is the custom when you're the home team) and once at half-time (because Columbia's band isn't ready to present their program). Oh, yes, we could have been cruel and laughed at them and said, "No half-time entertainment for you!" but our program experienced the same kind of difficulties two years ago. We would never do that to someone else. Anyway, I think the point of that was that our kids played twice--and that the second time was better than the first. Our football team may be awful, but our band is rockin'. Just don't tell them I said that, or it might go to their heads. Heh.

I suffered through woodwind trio rehearsal this morning for two hours. We have a concert coming up on the 30th of this month (for the announcement, see The Edward Website), and things aren't quite gelling the way we would like them to. Which resulted in me listening to (and making, though after a short bit I gave up) many apologies, as well as many rounds of cursing the piece, the composer or the instrument that seemed to be most offensive at the time.

I couldn't wait to get out of there. I thought, are all musicians always this whiny?

Then I realized that there was something wrong with that thought--I was regarding musicians as something separate from who I was. I've effectively stopped thinking about myself as a musician and started thinking of myself as a writer. Musicians are "those people over there," not me.

I have finally made up my mind to pursue a Rhetoric and Composition program once I graduate this spring. I don't know what I will do musically. Right now, I don't really care. I keep playing or singing or some such thing in some kind of environment, but as of right now, I don't want to go back to musical academia. At some point, I probably will want to. But not now.

It's frustrating in a way, though, because I always "wanted" to be a professional musician. But sometimes you just feel that no matter how hard you're trying, you're going to keep beating your head into the wall because it's just not what you're meant to do. And you feel it, and think that maybe if you try just a little bit harder, you'll belong in that field, or with that person, or whatever. Sometimes, you just have to accept that there's another, better, niche waiting for you out there; all you have to do is find it. I think I have found mine in writing.