Posted by: Marie | May 15, 2011

(541) Finally heard

Post #541
[Private journal entry written on Tuesday, November 30, 2010]

So . . . the last week has been rather quiet and uneventful other than the usual Thanksgiving Day celebrations with family. We had three days off of school and I had very few piano lessons. I was able to get some things done that really needed doing.

I have a therapy session scheduled for tomorrow. I noticed something this past week as I was preparing my usual one-week-prior status report for Edward . . . I’m not feeling the need to write long dissertations in my status reports to Edward – unlike the status reports I used to send to Mark.

Photo by Martin Chen

This is because, with Edward, I am confident I will have the time and space during the session to say what I need to say. I am confident he will hear me and take the time to really understand. That was not true with Mark . . . I believed the only way I would have a chance to say what I needed to say to Mark was to say it via email so he couldn’t interrupt me with his never-ending pontifications.

Edward is aware that I need assurance that he has indeed read my emails – long ones and short ones. So, at the beginning of each session, he provides a recap of what he believes I said in my emails. I find that incredibly comforting. It causes me to feel heard and valued, and it strengthens the emotional connection I feel with him.

——————————————-

Speaking of status reports . . . I sent a very short one to Edward last week:

Happy Thanksgiving, Edward!

Just a quick note about our session next week . . . I’m on track to present to you a letter written to God . . .

And . . . I don’t know if you read my blog or not, but my readers think the world of you (see the comments):

The gift of relief
They had other choices

See you next week!

– Marie

——————————————-

A few days ago, my friend, David, left a comment that really hit home for me. He encouraged me to parent myself in a manner more compassionate than the manner used by my parents. In his comment, he refers to the previous post (it might make more sense if you read the previous post first, then his comment).

——————————————-

In closing . . . a funny story . . .

For several of my piano students, I travel to their homes for the lessons. At every one of these homes to which I travel, there are dogs and/or cats in the home. At each of these homes, the pets gather around and under the piano during the lessons. Sometimes they try to sit on my lap or walk on the keyboard . . . our compromise is that they get to hang around during the lessons as long as they sit under the piano bench or around our feet. (Every night, when I return home, I have a layer of dog and cat hair on my pants from the knees down.)

Well, recently, I started teaching at a house at which a Great Dane lives. For the first several weeks, the mom made the dog stay on the dog bed in the living room because the mom didn’t know if I liked dogs.

A few days ago, I made my fourth trip to the house. The mom was off in the backend of the house during the lesson and the dog took that opportunity to sneak out of the living room and into the music room.

Of course, being the sweetheart she is, this dog attempted to “sit” with us . . . as is true for most really huge and loving dogs, this involves leaning his or her full body weight against the human with which he or she is “sitting”. Since the music room has wood floors, the piano bench and my chair both started scooting closer into the piano under the weight of the “sitting” dog until we no longer had room to move.

When we informed the dog that she couldn’t “sit” with us, at least not in that manner, she promptly attempted to climb onto the bench and then onto my lap . . . when we scolded her, she got all the more persistent . . .

Finally, in my most stern teacher voice, I looked her straight in the eyes and told her, “Now, if you are going to be in here with us, you have to lie down and behave yourself!”

Right on cue, this horse-of-a-dog turned away from me and started folding herself into the space under the piano bench . . . just like all the other dogs and cats who get to join me for lessons . . .

I watched her with great curiosity . . . surely she knew she was way too large for that space . . . right?

Nope. Apparently not. She did manage to curl up her bulk under that bench . . . one hind foot sticking out at an odd angle out the back side, one front paw crossed over the other with a bench leg between them to hold them in place, her butt and tail sticking out towards the feet of my chair . . .

She looked up at me with her eyebrows raised . . . her tail wagged a bit . . . as if to say, “Did I do it right?”

About then, the mom returned to the front part of the house . . . looking for the dog . .

“She’s in here.”
“Where?”
“Right here.”
“Where . . . ?? Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!”


Responses

  1. Great Danes aren’t shaggy but that is an amazing story.

    • LOL . . . I had to look up the term “shaggy” to understand your comment . . .


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Categories

%d bloggers like this: