Everyday Saint

It’s supposed to be a moment of calm, yoga class. A safe interlude where you unplug, unwind.

Why is the instructor talking about house concerts?

Just breathe…

I know she’s trying to make an uplifting point but – please don’t.

Seems she was at a fabulous house concert last night, you know this area is just teeming with wonderful musicians and here she was, sitting not two feet from these incredible performers and they were clearly feeling their bliss, doing what they love to do…

And all I can think is – wait, what house concert? Why haven’t they asked us to play? Why was I sitting at home last night? Because nobody wants me. My relaxed breathing turns to a choked wheeze.

But c’mon, you played last Saturday and it went fine and then this weekend and another one this month too – and you’ve been working on other things, growing as a person and-

But probably nobody will come next time, I haven’t been proactive enough spreading the word, and the week after that, was I supposed to create a Facebook event for that one? I asked if they wanted a poster, nobody ever got back to me about that so hopefully it’s okay…I should make sure the show’s even up on the website.


Will anybody come?They would if I was as wonderful as these gifted performers who blew yoga teacher’s mind with their open honest sharing of their gift of music. Better rehearse some more, at least I can do that.

And…breathe. Oh where is Sondra, the regular teacher, the one who lifts me up by helping me into a shoulder stand rather than sending me spiraling into doubt and self-pity?

And, all together now – Ohmmmm.

Find a fixed point and hold it…Maggie.

Maggie Estep. She taught here, right here in this room. Her photo is up at the front on a little table, next to the one of the guy in the orange robe.

How can she be gone? I didn’t know her, just saw her around, walking her dog. When we first moved here, I thought this must be the coolest place if a great writer/performer/interesting person like her is a neighbor.

She died two years ago, at fifty. She’s here with us still, an everyday saint.

Looking at her photo in the yoga studio, I feel humbled. I feel honored. Because I get to be alive.

At the end of the class, the instructor brings up the house concert again. Wow, those two whoever they were really moved her. It should only make me glad. When she says to go out and share our passion like these inspiring musicians did, I promise I will too.

When she asks for one more ohhhm, I give it all I’ve got.


Amy solo shows

  • Sat Apr 16 Northampton, MA     Parlor Room
  • Fri Apr 29  Amarillo, TX                 Golden Light
  • Sun May 8  Cambridge, MA          Atwood’s Tavern

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 )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ 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 )


Connecting to %s