Check in with Bar: Bar Scott's Blog

I love Sundays. When they start out the way mine did today, I love them even more. I woke up at a decent hour (7:30, not 5 and not 9) and went right to my bookshelf and found some books of poetry that I have never opened before. My father has always given me a book for Christmas, and in an effort to edify me, has often given me poetry anthologies. Growing up, I was always a bit ungrateful for presents that weren't exactly what I asked for or thought I wanted, but these books made for a great Sunday here in New York this morning. I read some Tennyson, some Emerson and then turned to my own books that included Rumi and Emmanuel, a thinker whose words have always moved me. By the time I'd read for 30 minutes, I was calm and open to whatever this particular Sunday would offer me.

I often begin my day with some kind of physical exercise. Today, I drove to the bottom of Lewis Hollow Road - a beautiful curvy road that climbs up Overlook Mountain - parked, and then walked to a trail head that took me up through the woods. I climb this same path 3 or 4 days a week and I always feel better having done so. The creeks up there are nearly dry at this time of year. Sad to see, but soon they will be overflowing again. The cycles are pretty consistent in this part of the world and can be relied on for assurance and comfort.

On my way home, I visited my son Forrest's gravesite. The grass always needs trimming around his stone, so I have a pair of scissors in my car that I use to make things look pretty again. Over the last few years, visitors have left lots of trinkets and stones on his headstone. It's nice to arrive there after 8 years and still see new gifts left by someone who cares enough to visit Forrest. Periodically, things are missing and I wonder where they've gone. This morning I was surprised to find that all of the more prescious stones that have been left over the years had vanished. At first it made me sad and I wondered who would take them. But then the answer was: "someone who wanted them." And why not? If they wanted them, why shouldn't they have them. I'm not advocating theft, but surely if someone was willing to take stones from a gravesite, they must have really liked them or needed them. I hope that somehow those stones have the power to comfort that person, or that they travel on to someone else who needs them.

Years ago, when I visited Forrest more regularly, I often ran into a little old man whose name I never learned. His wife was buried near Forrest and he was very faithful to her. He'd come with flowers and sometimes he'd talk to her when he didn't know I was there. Once I even watched him pull out some rags and polish and wash his car there so that he could be near her while he worked. It struck me then that he must have done that chore with her when she was alive and that doing it in the cemetery was an act of communion for him. What a romantic! This morning, as always, I looked at his wife Elsa's stone as I left to see if he had joined her yet, and he had just died. It made me very happy to know that he was finally there beside her. He lived without her for 18 years, but he never forgot her. It's a lonely story, but it's a beautiful story too. I loved witnessing his love for her.

I'm grateful to have started my day with poetry. Somehow starting at a slow pace gave me permission to keep a slow pace so far today. Tonight? My friend Abby for dinner. My first dinner guest since I moved into my new house. I've decided not to clean up like I might have years ago. She will see how I live on a normal day. Not too sloppy, not too neat. Just my house. That'll be nice.

My friend and assistant Marcy reminded me yesterday that I haven't updated "Check in with Bar" for over a month, and it didn't surprise me. I'm getting old enough that many things are forgotten or overlooked these days. The truth is, I think about writing here all of the time. What a luxury to have an outlet to jot down my thoughts, put them out to the world and see what comes back in terms of conversation with others who are interested enough to read here. Thank you (whether you respond or not!)

I'm in Philadelphia with my family this weekend celebrating my niece's marriage tomorrow night. On my drive down here from upstate New York, I thought about marriage quite a lot in preparation for speaking at their rehearsal dinner tonight. First of all, I'm touched and honored to have been asked to speak, but what do I say? Mostly I want to reflect on Catherine and my love for her. This is what I know and feel the most clearly, so that's what I'll talk about. A friend suggested that I take inspiration from a collection of quotes that I have. I will do that later today and see what draws me in. But driving last night, I debated the virtues and difficulties of marriage. I'm a big fan of marriage. The decision to embark on a journey with another person is a powerful one and demands a certain maturity, I think, for the partnership to be successful. As I hit middle-age, with all of the changes that naturally occur at this time, I wonder if marriage to one person is really possible for most of us over the course of our longer life times. Every so often, I meet an elderly couple that clearly connects on a deep and loving, still thriving level. Both are growing, both are dynamic and lit up with life's energy. However, mostly I see couples who are toughing it out; staying put even though their hearts are not full. It makes me wonder if we shouldn't be re-thinking our definition of what marriage is.

Recently I visited with a friend who has newly begun a second marriage. She and her new partner are clearly much more happy than either were in their previous relationships. It doesn't mean that their other life is not important or that they need to forget it or that one marriage is better than the other. What it suggested to me was that their first marriages were simply over. No judgment, just an observation of fact. Both my friend and her husband were ready (as were there ex's) to go in a new direction. And so, after much sadness, painful soul searching and the growth that comes from leaving things behind, she and her new husband are living the fuller, happier, calmer lives that many people who are married for a second or third time feel. This tells me that perhaps our notion of one partner for an entire life may in fact be an outdated, even harmful institution for our population. Wouldn't it be more honest and kind to acknowledge that marriages do end and that there is nothing wrong with that except for the judgment that we all put on ourselves and people we know who end our relationships? Couldn't we be more forgiving and realistic about what is true in our culture?

All of these thoughts come from my own recent separation. My husband Peter and I are lucky enough to be close friends who have always been honest and transparent with one another. Our separation is difficult, but is the right thing for both of us at this time. That doesn't take away the grief or the fear, but it does make it a little easier. I'm grateful that neither of us is furious with the other. Could there be a time when many more of us who separate could do it without the anger and destruction that so many marriages end with?

Tomorrow, my niece and her fiance will join and I rejoice with them. They have written their own vows and have thought long and hard about what it is they are hoping for in their married life. I celebrate their incredible choice with them. My sense is that they will be one of those lucky elderly couples who continue to walk hand in hand when they are 85-years old, and that is an inspiration to me.

What an excellent afternoon. We rehearsed for Levon Helm's Midnight Ramble that's happening on Saturday night here in Woodstock, New York. I have a band that I'll be playing with and I love these people. Their talent blows my mind, and I heard my songs in a whole new way today. Makes me want to re-record them because they're finally the way I want them to sound. Most musicians probably wish they could re-do and re-do and re-do, and I am one of them.

Kirsti Gholson will be doing background vocals, Peter Tomlinson will be on piano and acoustic guitar and Lou Pappas will play upright bass. I'll be singing, playing piano and acoustic guitar, and just a few minutes ago, Amy Helm, a woman I LOVE singing with, agreed to sit in with Kirsti and I on "Love is the Reason". All I can say is Yippee! It's always a treat to sing with Amy and it's been a long time since we sang this song together. The last time, our friend Mindy Jostyn was still with us and it was a very special night raising money for Ronald McDonald House of Albany at The Woodstock Playhouse. Kirsti sang with us that night too, so it's sort of a reunion.

It's been a crazy, excellent week. I've been sick as a dog with the head cold that's going around. Had a house concert in Stratham, New Hampshire Saturday night, and as the saying goes: the show must go on! I sang despite my cold and the audience of 35 or so could not have been nicer. The weekend before, I did a house concert in Saratoga Springs. This Saturday, we'll be at Levon's house, then on to Washington DC, Charlotte and Knoxville. A good month ahead. I'll be seeing lots of friends and relatives, driving many miles with lots of time for reflection and dreaming about whatever the future might hold. Something about Easter and about spring brings my thoughts to a quiet place; a good and hopeful place.

I hope it's a peaceful season for you too. If you're in Woodstock this weekend, come to the Ramble if you can. It's an expensive night, but worth every penny. www.levonhelm.com

Good morning! It's a rainy, overcast Monday, and I realize that I have been spoiled by a previous week of glorious days. Today, not so glorious, but the rain gives me an excuse to stay in and have a quiet morning at my desk, so that's a good thing.

I haven't written for awhile, which is always a surprise to me. I vow to write at least once a week, and then the time goes by and other things get done instead. It's odd to write an entry on a window of my computer and then post it for anyone on the planet to read. We've come a long way since the internet became available to all of us.

I did my first of eight house concerts over the weekend in Saratoga Springs, New York. My hosts are both research psychologists, which means they are smart! They took me and their out-of-town family members out for breakfast on Sunday morning, and we got to talking about the impact of the internet on the psyche, and specifically on the evolution of our species. (yes, we are a species!) All of this change we've witnessed and been a part of has happened so fast that there's no telling just yet how it has effected us. Everyone writes a blog now, everybody texts and emails and calls and leaves messages and does facebook (or some other social network). There have been times that I have wanted to jump out of the ring and abandon all of it, but then I'll get an email that I just couldn't live without (I think!) or I'll get the funniest text in the world and want even more. Who knows where we're headed, but I try not to get too caught up in it. My psychologist friends did not have any answers about what all of this technology is doing to our collective or individual spirits or our minds, but we all agreed that something is happening. Maybe it's just like every other form of conversation: care and thoughtfulness must always be taken. I also wonder if we all shouldn't be a bit more existential about our emails and blogs: write them and then let them go and not worry about the outcome. So much of what seems to be written and sent is of the advertising variety and that's where I think we need to let go of the outcome. Even my friend Barack Obama who I got an email from this morning, told me how great it was that health care reform is happening (not the way I wanted it to happen, but yes, he's right). As usual, his message was upbeat and exciting. But I was disappointed that the last thing in the email was a link that said "Donate". Donate to what?, I thought. In the moment, I wished he (or his staff) had opted not to ask for money. Wouldn't it have been nice just to get an upbeat, exciting message from the president rather than an upbeat, exciting message from the president with a request for money attached to it.

I ramble. Time to begin this day. New York State Sales Tax forms are due today, so I have money to give Barack after all. Whenever I pay taxes, I think of my dad who always said that if you're paying taxes, it means you've made enough money to be sharing it. A good attitude, I think.

Finally! After four days of false starts, the snow is finally falling. It's absolutely, perfectly beautiful outside. And the best part is the complete silence. All I can hear right in this moment is the clock in the kitchen and my fingers tapping these keys. A miracle that I am sitting here in Palenville, New York talking to you, wherever you are, from my laptop on my dining room table. So many miracles. So much to be thankful for.

Enjoy this day. If my camera were charged, I would post a picture, but the picture would not do this day justice, so just look out your own window.

There's a wonderful Winnie the Pooh animation where Pooh and Piglet are blown around by the wind. They go flying through the trees and have all kinds of adventures as a result. That's sort of the way it feels around here tonight.

I'm house sitting for a friend whose place is at the base of Overlook Mountain - at least I think it's Overlook - on the eastern edge of the Catskills. The wind whips around here pretty regularly, but tonight, it's really active and loud. I love the wind when it blows like this. I feel alive and ready to go out and take it on. I want to feel it on my skin. I want to feel the power of the heavens pulling and pushing me - at least that's the way I experience it. If it's really loud, I sing or laugh as loud as I can to see how much of my voice the wind will swallow up. I feel a little bit like a kid again, so maybe that's why I like it so much.

I've been "snowbound" for three full days. I put snowbound in quotes because there really isn't any snow on the ground. Weather reports have threatened snow, and snow has fallen, but none has accumulated where I am. All of my students cancelled, or I cancelled them because I thought there would be snow, but in fact, there's virtually none. I think we all needed time off or everyone would have made the effort to get to their lessons. I would have, and my students would have. Instead, we all opted for the quiet and peacefulness of a day or two at home with nothing in particular to do. For myself, I've read a couple of books, worked on a few pages of my book, written a couple of letters, ignored emails that are way overdue anyway so what's a few extra days. I've done yoga everyday, practiced my guitar and the piano, taken at least one hike every morning, done some laundry, swept the kitchen, called my mom and generally slowed down my pace. I’ve also slept at least nine hours every night. What a relief! It's been a mid-winter vacation I hadn't expected, and I am grateful.

One of the books I read was Gift from the Sea, by Anne Morrow Lindbergh. I've read it a dozen times, but a friend is reading it now, so I thought I'd read it too. It's a dated book - written in the '50s by a woman reflecting on life as a wife, mother, artist and woman at that particular time in history. She talks about the importance of solitude for all of us. She wrote the book on a two-week vacation away from her husband and children taken to rejuvenate herself. I agree with her about the need for solitude. I think time alone is invaluable. I seek it out almost every day and wonder how others live without it. This afternoon, after three days alone and not a lot of human contact even by phone, I finally needed to go out. I didn't go far. Just up the street to the post office. But it was enough. The postmaster greeted me as he always does. He told me to take my time on the roads. He sold me some stamps. It was simple but it was exactly what I needed.

On my way to and from the post office, I tried to listen to the news on NPR, but I didn't like what I heard, so I turned it off. Congress was debating health care. Their words did not sound like discussion to me, and they are so far away from anything that I would call reform that I am disgusted by all of it. There’s such hostility in everyone's language; such condescension and arrogance. I'm tired of it. I wonder if I could survive as a hermit and ignore them all for the rest of my life, but I couldn't. Next week will come and I'll head back in to town. My students will return to my studio and I will be glad to see them. Lindbergh talks about the ebb and flow of life; the intermittency and lack of continuity that makes life so interesting but also difficult for us. I feel that today and that's a good thing. Tomorrow, I'll be back in the flow, or not. The weather will help me to determine what my day will be like. In the meantime, the wind is blowing, the sky is dark and I am glad to be here by myself in the mountains.