Beauty in Unexpected Places

Well. My foot still hurts.

It hurts a lot. In fact, it hurts precisely as much as it did the day I hurt it, almost two weeks ago. I’m going in for a bone scan tomorrow to rule out a stress fracture, but even if it’s “just” soft tissue, it’s taking its own sweet time to heal. I’m pretty much confined to the pool and a trainer for the duration.

I spent the first week with this injury
wallowing, pouting, and eating cookies. The only thing that had a visible effect on my heath was the cookies, and that effect (loosens belt a notch) was instant and not good.

I slouched around the house while I was busy Not Riding or Running a couple of days ago and found my guitar. Then I realized what a terrible thing it is to have “found” my guitar, because doing so makes it clear that I hadn’t noticed it was missing for a year. I dusted it off and am back to forcing fingers into weird chord shapes, but it was good to rediscover the thing.

A six-part fugue from The Musical Offering, in...And on Sunday, I went to St John’s to hear the lessons and carols service, since I was Not Running or Riding that afternoon, too. I ran into the music director afterward, who was kind enough to remember my name after over a year of me Not Turning Up at rehearsals, and he asked whether I’d like to jump into the choir for the midnight Christmas Eve service.

Why, yes. I would very much like to do that.

“You know,” he said, “The chamber choir is performing Bach’s St John Passion in March. Would you like to do that?”

Why, yes. I would very much like to do that.

I am still looking around and realizing how much I let go during this last insane training year, and when I see that music, one of my core needs, was one of them, I can’t believe it. I’ve known for years that listening to Bach is one of the things that somehow reorders my brain when I’m spinning, and performing it is a sublime pleasure.

On the whole, I’d really rather it didn’t hurt like crazy to walk more than half a block, but if it must, I will be grateful to my foot for giving me the St John Passion for Christmas.

Edited to add: I pulled out my music folder before last night’s rehearsal and found a service leaflet from November, 2011. Oooh. That has been much too long.