Cadence
I love the word 'cadence'. Always have. What does it mean? Merriam-Webster defines cadence as:
a : rhythmic sequence or flow of sounds in language: (the grand cadence of his poetry)
b : the beat, time, or measure of rhythmical motion or activity (The drill sergeant counted cadence. The steady cadence of the drums.)
If you've ever read anything I've written, you know that cadence is important to me, on several levels. I write poetry. I play music. I sing and dance. I used to be in a marching band. I marched with Princeton's band for two years as a flute player, One year as a piccolo player. During my senior year, I was one of three Field Commanders. That was my favorite. There's something magical about leading 180 people onto a field and then directing their music. It's intimidating, humbling and powerful.
My husband, being a drummer, is also highly tuned into cadence. Rhythm is in his DNA. It's in the way he walks, talks, dances, works and lives. He understands timing much more than I do. I can do it when I focus on it. He does it without even thinking about it. He is the steady beat that leads our family into the future. I'm the melody line. I'm high and ethereal, angry and staccato and everything in between.
It's a complimentary thing, most of the time. His consistency keeps us together. My emotional variety makes thing interesting or challenging, depending on the season. However, I've learned that I'm also consistent about some things. I'm consistent with my commitments to my children and husband. I'm consistent with my close friends. It used to end there.
I'm learning, finally, to be consistent with my own health. I'm fixing the things that weren't working and forming healthy habits with diet and exercise. I'm learning to listen to my body, which is something I haven't done consistently for 20 years.
My mom told me, a long time ago, that forty was a magical age for her. She felt like she'd figured a lot of things out. She had a strong marriage (still does) and two healthy, kind, interesting daughters. She felt like she was at the top of her game. It's not that she didn't continue to improve. She did. It's that she finally felt like she didn't have to wonder if what she was doing was working. It's not that she didn't face challenges. It's that she felt like she knew how to get through them and was confident that she could.
I feel the same way. Forty has been very good. I'll be forty-one in June. That's only two months from now and I know that things will only get better from here. I'll reach my goal weight. I'll swim regularly and put healthy food into my mouth. I'll stop eating, when I've had enough. I'll march to a steady beat, not too slowly, not to quickly... I will march, to my own cadence, into the future.
a : rhythmic sequence or flow of sounds in language: (the grand cadence of his poetry)
b : the beat, time, or measure of rhythmical motion or activity (The drill sergeant counted cadence. The steady cadence of the drums.)
If you've ever read anything I've written, you know that cadence is important to me, on several levels. I write poetry. I play music. I sing and dance. I used to be in a marching band. I marched with Princeton's band for two years as a flute player, One year as a piccolo player. During my senior year, I was one of three Field Commanders. That was my favorite. There's something magical about leading 180 people onto a field and then directing their music. It's intimidating, humbling and powerful.
My husband, being a drummer, is also highly tuned into cadence. Rhythm is in his DNA. It's in the way he walks, talks, dances, works and lives. He understands timing much more than I do. I can do it when I focus on it. He does it without even thinking about it. He is the steady beat that leads our family into the future. I'm the melody line. I'm high and ethereal, angry and staccato and everything in between.
It's a complimentary thing, most of the time. His consistency keeps us together. My emotional variety makes thing interesting or challenging, depending on the season. However, I've learned that I'm also consistent about some things. I'm consistent with my commitments to my children and husband. I'm consistent with my close friends. It used to end there.
I'm learning, finally, to be consistent with my own health. I'm fixing the things that weren't working and forming healthy habits with diet and exercise. I'm learning to listen to my body, which is something I haven't done consistently for 20 years.
My mom told me, a long time ago, that forty was a magical age for her. She felt like she'd figured a lot of things out. She had a strong marriage (still does) and two healthy, kind, interesting daughters. She felt like she was at the top of her game. It's not that she didn't continue to improve. She did. It's that she finally felt like she didn't have to wonder if what she was doing was working. It's not that she didn't face challenges. It's that she felt like she knew how to get through them and was confident that she could.
I feel the same way. Forty has been very good. I'll be forty-one in June. That's only two months from now and I know that things will only get better from here. I'll reach my goal weight. I'll swim regularly and put healthy food into my mouth. I'll stop eating, when I've had enough. I'll march to a steady beat, not too slowly, not to quickly... I will march, to my own cadence, into the future.
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