the ability to hear.

I lost my hearing in my right ear this weekend. It wasn't a drastic accident, just a misuse of a q-tip. I was a miserable person to be around and I hated the fact or even the thought of what it might be like to not be able to hear for the rest of my life. I am not the type to panic but a flood of horrible thoughts went through my head, dreams were lost, and my future became uncertain and shaky. I regained my hearing but those quick visions have not faded. Between hearing loss and the reading of Hunter S. Thompson's novel, The Rum Diaries, I feel like I have been challenged to look outside of my everyday life that I have choosen and at times feel are quick fixes, and look at the big picture.

I had to ask myself some big questions, what would my life be like if I couldn't hear?
What would my life be life without fully hearing and experiencing music?
What would my life look like without the ability to interact without something I rely on, on a daily basis?

The questions before this seemed a bit trite or empty. Yet this little loss made me look straight into my face and ask what I really want. I know I want to teach and I know I want to study culture. I know that what I love needs all of me and not just a part. I know that I what I want is attainable. I recognize that what is in my life I have attained. The what isn't is a little stickier to communicate. some things aren't there for a reason and others are what is wide open for the taking.

I don't know what the next parts of my journey is open for me. But what I do know is that it has to include music. It has to include me writing about it or critiquing it. It could include supervising. I don't know quite yet but the search is on and the questions need to be asked. The pain produced beauty. It was really worth it. The pain seems always to be worth it. It slaps you in the face and makes you asks the questions you were afraid to ask.

I am tired of sitting by and not making the effort to take a chance.