Be hush and white with snow, little frog

“Isn’t it fun to plan these sorts of things?” my friend Christine asked, while I was in the middle of frantically trying to sew up details for a current project. Though it was something I wanted to do, I was rushing, pushing myself to Get. It. Done.

Christine’s comment gave me pause. Had I not just set out last week to enjoy what I am doing, to stay present? Why not enjoy each project, each email, each decision? If I am really focused on what I’m doing, I can bring my own sass and verve to each task at hand, and enjoy the work.

If I’m annoyed by any one project, maybe I’m just being annoying… and not really IN what I am doing.

Frogs are forced to be present and in tune with their surroundings in order to survive. Take the North American wood frog. He is able to be freeze-tolerant by drifting into serious hibernation as the weather drops. He, and nearly 2/3 of the water in his little body, crystallizes into ice. He is aware of the seasonal changes and he weathers the cold by chilling WAY OUT.

It’s January, and I’m at the tail end of a massive cold—and a massive recording project that took a lot of my reserves. Evening is still falling early in wintry New England, the bare tree branches are white with cold, BCMFest is gently being set up in Harvard Square (finale musicians are rehearing, stages are being built...).

Stepping back to realize my hushed surroundings, for one moment I decide that this is a time to … finish this last sentence. And to start enjoying this wonderful winter festival weekend.

When spring finally arrives, and when the ice in my frog friend’s body melts, and his heartbeat and breathing return to normal, then he and I can both kick it up a notch and jump back into action.

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