Lauren from Thelma & the
Sleaze, an all lady rock ‘n’ roll band out of Nashville.
Photo by the amazing Ann Sydney Taylor. Let her music and travel
photography entrance and transport you.
Friday
night I embark on an adventure with my childhood best friend. I accept her
invitation to an art showing in Berea, my soul yearning for art and new sights.
The car ride to the show refreshes my spirits (my Sagittarius friend recounting
her tales from the previous night) and I quietly awe over the evening light
gently spilling over rolling hills and pockets of towns nestled into woods and
mountains.
We
arrive fashionably late, but are greeted warmly. The art show is the debut of
the Women’s Art Collective of Kentucky and my Sagittarius soul sista is a
founding member, her rock ‘n’ roll photography on display. Her featured photo along
with mixed media and paintings fill the quaint space of the Village Trough, a
Berea restaurant (grilled gourmet cheese with teas, coffees, vegan cookies and
scrumptious, whip cream pastries).
The adjoining room becomes a
makeshift movie theater and seating is provided in reclaimed church pews for the evening's documentary. Staying in theme with the female celebrated art show, Who Does She
Think She Is? follows the lives of contemporary women artists as they
balance pursuing their creative work and being a mother. These radiant women
speak of listening and honoring the inner muse; and the documentary explores
ancient Goddess Culture, and second-wave feminists who combated the
institutionalized sexism of the art world (the Guerrilla Girls and Judy Chicago’s The Dinner Party make a scene debut). Intently watching, I feel myself reawakened and filled with feminist
spark, a bit of rage and lots of passion.
The
evening continues with a performance by the Kites, a Kentucky band who swoons me with their deep, resonating voices
(like a younger version of the Civil Wars) and their songs about first love and
dancing through daydreams.
The
music pulls me into a soft trance. The cycle of concerns my mind has been
obsessing over lately reemerge.
When
will I hear back about that job? What if my research paper is rejected for that
conference? Am I studying enough for the GRE? When should I apply for grad
school, and that yoga program?
These
questions have provoked such irritability and stress. I feel like my life is on
hold. Waiting. Waiting for that next job, for the next heartthrob, and for an
external confirmation to provide reassurance and clarity about my life’s path.
I can feel the rise of anxiety, like a salty building of a wave, but unlike this
past week where it’s been so consuming, it barely stirs a ripple.
I return
to a friend’s recent yoga class focused on transitions: the transition from one
pose to the next, from each inhalation to the following exhalation; even the
easily overlooked, but significant micro-movements that lead into the building
of a pose. My yoga-self knows that the waiting time is filled with precious
moments, like this one here. This transitional space is the NOW where life is vibrant
and abundantly rich.
The
irritation and anxiety soften as I relax back into this moment. I am at home
here – with my lifelong friend, in the company of artists, surrounded by the
creative works of empowered women. The questions aren’t answered, and they
reappear throughout the night, but the mind chatter is a broken record and the
questions are just on replay.
Live the Questions Now, encourages
the poet, Rainer Maria Rilke.
I release the need to fret and
analyze this waiting time, and embrace the questions and the moment where there
are twinkle lights, kindhearted souls, and vegan pastries. I don’t know how
things will unfold, but I do know that I want to be vibrantly here and here is
where I finally allow myself to be.
