Ice Cream Memories

I keep thinking about myself as a little girl, how much I used to do and think and make. I did sculpture, played piano, acted in plays, read, sang, stole sweets and ate them hidden under the bed. Unhindered, unfettered creativity and mischief flowed through me. I was happy; I was funny. I wanted to be an actress on Broadway - I wanted to be Meghan Follows who played Anne of Green Gables. I wanted to dance and I would spend afternoon upon afternoon in the backyard or in the living room dancing to some music in my head, or on the stereo, and I'd choreograph brilliant ballets. I knew how to do this because my sister was a dancer and I'd watch her dance performances at her school, the older girls in their beautiful costumes dancing their own dances to songs by The Cure or the Theme from Twin Peaks. The other day I listened to "American Tune" by Paul Simon which was the song I used to create dances too all the time, and I'd sing along with the bridge which always brought up some kind of emotion in me, and still does. The other song I'd love to dance to was "Surfin' Safari" by the Beach Boys.

Anxiety is a difficult mountain to traverse, and there are craggy crags at every step. But, it sometimes seems, that there is a meadow just on side and a crevasse just on the other side. Sometimes there is one craggy step which doesn't allow for anymore climbing, just for falling. Sometimes, in the midst of the spiral of thoughts, the whirlwind of the mind, a sunbeam shines through and the meadow is visible beyond the rocks. This is a practice and also a daily, an hourly, test and eventually the climber gets to a point where she sees many paths in front of her and doesn't know which one to take. They all seem treacherous and difficult so she continues on the path she is most comfortable with -the craggy, dusty, rocky path. Not because she likes the feeling of sharp stones in her shoes but because this is what she knows. But perhaps that grassy meadow path just keeps following her and waiting for her to take that step into the soft moss, feel the spring of the greens and the moist soil, see the giant sculptures that lie ahead and the sun hidden behind a veil of clouds (it is fall, after all).

PS> If you ever make it up to Storm King, which I do recommend especially in the late fal (the season has now ended), there is a BBQ joint just up the road called Brothers BBQ. It was pretty good, Texas-style with the white bread and sauce on the side, mac n cheese a bit rubbery however, and don't bother with the salad (obviously. what is a green vegetable doing in a BBQ joint anyhow?) Anyhow, a word of caution - don't go when you are starving because you might eat too fast.

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