At rehearsal this weekend I was increasingly flustered, banging my bassist’s beautiful Martin guitar against the ceiling (what is it with me and Martins? I dropped my first one down the stairs!) and tangling up the cords to the amp and the guitar pod, suddenly projecting all of my impending anxiety over the upcoming studio sessions on to my surroundings and inability to disengage said cords from their rats’ nest. I kept telling myself, be mindful, be mindful of what you’re doing, as I’ve been reading a book on Zen lately called “Untrain Your Parrot.” Sometimes I don’t know what the hell she’s talking about (“heartmind”?) but I like some of the tips she gives, like a phrase called “now vow how bow”. No, not Wow Bao. Now Vow.
But of course that internal prompt had the total opposite effect. Luckily my drummer is a true gentleman; he asked his wife who, when she’s not teaching world drumming with him, is a bartender. She sweetly brought me a delicate little tumbler of amber-colored liquid, comfort of the Southern kind, shaken and strained with Roses lime. Oh my goodness. Somewhere between a shot and a girly drink, I do believe I’ve found my new cocktail. I soon loosened up and even started doing my nerdy sway dance while playing the songs. But I didn’t feel totally sloshed either. It was the perfectly-sized tonic. Tipsiness prevails over forced mindfulness!
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