When I'm Not Skating I'm...

Breaks are really important.  They allow your body to heal and your brain to rejuvenate.  I know this, yet I rarely take them.  Taking a break requires that some other activity fill the hours that I usually cram with watching derby, going to practice and hanging out with derby people.  It means I have to change my routine (which I hate).  It means that I don't always wake up in the morning with a physical reminder of the night before (ie. aches, pops, contusions and soreness).  Mostly it means that I have to deal with the things in my life left undone from the unending busyness. 
My first instinct to fill the hours is to try and remember what exactly it was that I did before I skated every day.  Of course when I started derby I was so depressed that the things in my life were still constantly left undone because I spent most of my time lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, watching every season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and trying very hard not to crawl out of my own skin.  That's one of the reasons I skate all the time now.  It's not like I'm missing out on all the great activities I did before.
My second instinct is to go to Target.  I like to shop but I don't like buying things and I'm not in love with stuff so I don't end up going shopping all that often.  Not only does this prevent me from buying things I don't need, it also prevents me from buying things I can't find at the grocery store.  About once every three months I'll go to Target and wander up and down every isle in what inevitably turns into an hours long journey.  Doing this allows me to remember that I ran out of body wash last month and have bathing in cheap shampoo ever since.  Or I'll get stuck in the hardware section thinking hard about whether it's gotten dark in my house lately because of the endless Seattle drizzle or maybe because we need more lightbulbs.  My ever patient roommate will sometimes come home to a gallon of eco-friendly dish soap or reams upon reams of toilet paper because I feel guilty that she regularly remembers to stock up on these things (and more) and the liklihood that I will remember again by the time a more reasonable supply will be used is minimal at best.
Then I'll play the piano.  You might be thinking about now that if I'm neglecting to buy body wash on a regular basis then there are probably more urgent things I'm putting off in my life than music.  I suppose by some measures that might be true but I find that if you don't take care of your soul then it doesn't matter how much of the mundane you deal with successfully, you still haven't done right for yourself.

Lately I've been working on a Beethoven sonata (No. 21 Op. 53 or Waldstein if you must know).  Beethoven is my musical rock and I literally can't remember a time in my life when going to Beethoven on the keyboard didn't soothe my nerves and restore my spirit.  When I was seven I was so enamoured with Beethoven that informed my mother that I was going to be him for Halloween and would she help me with a costume?  I imagined wearing a little brown suit with a red scarf and a wig with wild grey hair.  At the time it seemed like a perfectly normal thing to do but I have to admit I'm not sure how I would respond if a little girl made the same request of me today.  My mother, who was always trying to help me be like other childern, convinced me to go as a fairy instead.
When I was twelve I started to learn my first Beethoven piano sonata.  It was the Pathetique (Op. 13 No. 8) and I chose it because the second movement is my mother's favorite.  Playing that piece today, 15 years later, is less like performance and more like saying hello to an old friend.  I don't have to think about it anymore, it just comes out of my fingers and reminds me of all the places I've been, people I've loved, and conflicts I've borne out.  There seem to be very few things in life that you get to hold on to for as long as you draw breath.  This is mine.
<posted on 3.20.12>