I was unable to make it to the Southwest Conference on Botanical Medicine this year, so I purchased the lectures to listen to during my journey. My mp3 player died and via a long series of events I will not bore you with, I inherited my daughter's Zune player, the one that accompanied her through high school. "I haven't turned it on in years. There's probably a ton of crappy music on it. It's confusing at first, but you'll figure it out," was all she said. Such faith in my technological abilities!
I'm on day 2 of "figuring it out". I've managed to unlock it, charge it, and make it play. Hopefully before Tuesday I will load it with herbal lectures.
Interesting though, scrolling through her high school music, listening to what she sang along to back then. Time machine mp3 player. It reminds me that everybody's going through something. And that everything actually does pass with time, no matter how large it looms in your head and heart as you pass through it.
As we move from infant to toddler, pre-schooler to kid, the upgrades are joyful. Then at puberty we're outfitted with the tools for adulthood. From then on out, the transitions can be confusing, heart-wrenching, life-altering. I don't want to go to the cancer center next week. I don't want to drive home with my aunt in stitches, in pain, or quite possibly without surgery, hospice-bound. I don't want to go, but I will.
Soon enough I'll be home from this trip, harvesting Calendula blossoms and eating nachos with my generous daughter. But today I'm sharing some teenage angst, unloading the dishwasher, and listening to The Mountain Goats.