“Un et deux et trois et quatre...” The slow counting drifts past my ears along with the staggered piano notes. I came down to the chapel to study in solitude but was soon joined by my friend Keity Hodgson and her new piano student. Teaching piano lessons in French must be a marvelous way to practice her language skills. I’m a little jealous at first, but then the thought of actually having to teach the piano lessons everyday makes me remember why I’m not doing that...
My jasmine tea has finished steeping and I’m excited to drink it. I’m so cliché. Karunesh is streaming from my computer and mixing with the smell of the jasmine tea... I have a sudden urge to meditate. Maybe I will...
later.
For now I’ll pour myself some tea.
My tea cup is a small pottery bowl, made by the hands of a friend. The name “Ally” is carved into the bottom by the hands of a skillful artist and looking at it reminds me of wonderful days with friends. The first time I saw it, sitting on the black pedestal, waiting to be sold, I knew that it was going to be mine... The artistic cracks in the green glaze have slowly turned a light brown, due to my incessant drinking of tea. But I like it. It gives my cup character. Personality.
Another cup of tea.
The floor is dirty, but I go barefoot anyway. It makes me feel organic. I like to feel my toes bend when I walk. It makes me feel wild... Am I wild? Am I unpredictable? . . . Do I want to be? I don’t know. But I like it anyway.
The Humble Mug Position. My friend Melissa Lubke (then Magee) and I developed that saying two years ago. It’s that position when you have a large mug or cup of warm tea, coffee, hot cocoa, or anything warm and cozy sitting in your hands. Both hands. The position you must assume when you feel the warmth on your hands and then bring the cup nearer to your face because your want to be closer to it. Pulling your hands and, consequently, the mug in towards your body, you assume The Humble Mug Position. Why is it so humble? Try yelling at someone or mocking someone or being rude from that position. It’s the most humble, comforting, wonderful position you can assume. If all the world's leaders had mugs of hot cocoa in their hands when they debated about the world's problems, we would get more accomplished. You can't have an ego in the Humble Mug Position.
When I’m typing, I drink with one hand. My left hand remains on the keyboard while my right hand reaches for my small bowl. Ally’s bowl...
Stop. Ponder.
Both hands leave the keyboard this time. It’s time for some Humble Mugness...
A feeling of relaxation and peace floods over me. I knew it would... It does every time. But it still surprises me. Every time. I guess I’m human...
The piano lesson is still in full swing. I’ve memorized the simple melody. With the corresponding inversions of G and C chords in the left hand, she plays C-E C-E over and over again. It will be stuck in my hand all day...
It’s time to pour more tea.
My tea pot was a gift. My friend Kayla sent it to me for Christmas... She found it at one of my favorite stores: World Market. It’s the best tea pot I’ve ever owned, and I love it all the more, knowing that she selected it for me.
More things than my tea pot remind me of Kayla. Every time I come to study in the chapel, I bring Leopold with me. When my mind can hold no more French, I pick him up and play... He needs new strings, but I’m picky, and I have been unable to find Elixirs anywhere in Geneva. He’ll get new strings for Christmas. Today I’m going to work on one of my favorites... “Hallelujah,” the Rufus Wainwright edition... I realized yesterday afternoon that I had forgotten how to play it, and so, all of my study breaks today will be dedicated to relearning that wonderful piece of music. Kayla wouldn't have to relearn it. Kayla is an excellent guitarist... I wish that she could be here to play with me.
I need to brew more water for tea. African spiced rooibos this time, I think...
I’m a selfish creature. I keep checking the clock. How long can a piano lesson take? My ideas about global rules restricting the length of piano lessons to 30 minutes have all been shattered. How could I be so misguided...? I guess in France they take C and G chords very seriously. Though, in France, they’re not called C and G, they are referred to as Do and So.
Life is so different here. I like it. Slow and steady. Refined and casual. French. I'd like to live here someday.
I want to work for National Geographic.
I want to get paid, the rest of my life, to meditate and drink jasmine tea...
But I probably won’t get any of those.
But at least, for right now, I have French.
