guitar

Can't Be Perfect by Michelle Cowan

I feel my sense of judgment creeping up because I haven’t blogged in the last few days despite a firm desire to do so. As a brief update, emotionally, I’m out of the doldrums, and hope to stay here. Music is a guiding force in this transition. In May, I and a few friends will be putting together an arts night in which we will showcase our various talents and hopefully raise some money for charity. Details to come…

Until then, I’ll hold my enthusiasm for the arts evening tight and begin accepting the areas where I am less than enthusiastic. Even though I’m planning this one musical exposition, I tell myself that I could be doing more. Sure, I could be, but I don’t. Something blocks me—something inside me. Is that okay? Should I accept my inaction and complacency?

The bottom line is that I AM NOT PERFECT. I cannot be. Part of me wants to pursue a music career. Part of me does not. The why is not clear. I tell myself that “perfect Michelle” would be out getting gigs and singing everywhere possible. It doesn’t take long to be reminded that I am not “perfect Michelle.”

Perfection is an image or standard in my head unlike anyone else’s. All of our ideas of “perfect” are equally individual and unattainable. Perfect isn’t real and actually causes conflict when two different people’s versions of perfection don’t mesh. It’s a fruitless pursuit. I am who I am, but unfortunately, I am often the last person to acknowledge or accept that.

In honor of my imperfection, illustrated in this attempt to blog when I should be getting in bed to be rested for work tomorrow, I am showcasing a little tune for y’all. Any flaws in the video simply further the theme of this particular post and reflect the fact that I recorded it at 11:30 at night, all the while hoping I wasn’t waking up my downstairs neighbor.

Happy listening. Enjoy your imperfections! They are often the most interesting parts of you.

The Simple Life by Michelle Cowan

I am officially in love with riding my bike (as if that wasn't apparent before). I hate traffic. Finally, I feel like being on my bike puts me ahead of the rest. It's freeing to know the back ways to get places, even when I do have to take my car. Getting to work by bike is a normal activity for me now, so it's no problem to two-wheel it in lieu of fighting lines at flashing stop lights and wasting precious gasoline.

Sitting in traffic makes me scream and cry and beat my steering wheel...and I mean literally. (I have the bruised forearms to prove it.) My stress levels rise that high.

In contrast, the time on my bike before and after work provides a space where I do nothing but travel. I don't think of it as exercise, and other potential daily activities don't enter my mind much. The only goal is a destination. The only objective is to stay safe on the road. Simple.

I desire simplicity more and more these days. Simple lifestyles attract me. I want to live in a community where I don't have to go far for anything essential, where my friends are near, where my interactions are not mitigated by layers of electronic facilitation. I like the idea of a few friends, a few things to do, a generous amount of time, and a whole lot of love. In many ways, the hurricane gave me a glimpse into that, and riding my bike expresses in a small way the simplicity my heart longs for. Thank you for beautiful weather and good health.

(Playing my guitar gets me back to basics, too.)