Brahms, take two. It's a wrap.

What a difference "writing it out" makes for me. "Out" like getting emotions out. Like physically getting it out of my body. Maybe it took me *all night* on Saturday night to write that entry, but without it I'd not be healed from the experience.

So healed that I could go back this evening and enjoy another Brahms concert! The orchestra is doing a Brahms-a-thon (they call it a festival) all week. I *loved* it this evening. The music (amongst other pieces, the first symphony, which is *so* juicy) filled me to the inside of my bones. Yes, my bones hurt, no doubt about that, but I meditated more on the music and was able to overcome to a certain extent.

What made it so validating was seeing colleagues after the concert who were so happy to see me! They said they want to see me playing again on stage with them. They told me I was missed. Especially my previous partner, who continues to say each time we see each other to call him when I start playing again.

They were all going out to dinner after the concert (11:30pm), and invited me to come, which I thought was so nice! I didn't go, but getting the invite made me feel good, and that I can still be part of them, even without being an active player.

I want to (be an active player... not go out to the restaurant...). I so want to. I know I don't have to say it any more. I think the topic is clear by now. Just that this time, it's without tears. It's with peace in my soul. Yah.

Here is one last picture I came across, and I thought it'd be a closing image for this subject... for now. In reality, this subject will never close for me, whatever the future brings.

Me and my mom, circa 1983. Mom, you look so good! Thank you for all the support, all those years. I know now. I know,

I felt so good today that I wrote for my book, also. I will reveal the title soon, but I'm not ready yet.

As for my decision to start the process to get my hips fixed, Robert called Ichilov for me. They will get back to me; seems that my case really fell between the cracks. We'll jump-start that again.
I also decided to go for a consult with another hip specialist who I have heard of, highly recommended. He takes calls between 4-6, so I hope tomorrow I will remember to call at that time (set my alarm).

Gonna get my hips fixed (a year? Two?)
Gonna write my book
Gonna do what I love... music. May go back to being a doula as well, but not sure. At this point, I am aiming to pick up my horn again.

I quit playing once, in Boston, for two years, after I had already received my bachelor of Music (initials: "BM" ... :))  from Boston University. I had a teacher who was extremely discouraging to me ("maybe you should learn the real-estate business, Sarah, you'd have more luck..."), and I let him get the best of me. I decided to quit. After two years, I had a sudden epiphany that waitressing and bar-tending was *not* what Hashem wants me to do with my life. He gave me the talent of playing horn. So I said to myself, do it, Sarah. Now. Stop messing around, wasting the talent Hashem gave you. You have it, use it. It was as simple as that. (I wasn't even religious at the time, but I had it in my soul).

That very day, the epiphany day, I picked up my horn, dusted off the case, oiled up the valves which were completely stuck, and played. And played and played. I played all the stuff I loved. No warm-up, no scales and exercises, just going for it. Besides waking up the next day with swollen face muscles, I was energized to "go for it". I looked for ads for horn jobs. I decided also that I *will* go back to school, to get my feet back in the music world, and study more. I got the Disney job two weeks later, and acceptance into the conservatory for my master's.

Sounds like a charmed life when I write it that way. It was anything *but*. I worked my tush off for everything that came my way. Just like now, when I sometimes write deep into the night (morning hours, sometimes), I also practiced that way. I had a special practice mute that made it so only I could hear my playing. Everything I got, I worked for. I'm not one of those people who have it all naturally and easily to win auditions.

Anyway, maybe next time I will tell you the story of how I got to Israel. It was PURELY the hand of God pushing me (pulling? No, it is pushing.) to move here. It is an awesome story. For another time. I am *going to sleep now*. How's that for a novel idea?

Thank you all for your amazing supportive responses to my last blog. *You* help me heal. I can "write it out" of me, but without you, the healing doesn't take shape. It is the "tikun" (fixing, of a certain holy sort) of helping each other, of getting together when someone is in need... *that* will save the planet. Of that, I am sure.