The Longest Shortest Month

We’re four days into March and I finally turned my calendar over. I’ve always thought it was a mercy that February is the shortest month. It somehow manages to be too big for its weeks, brutal, about to bust a button off its metaphorical jacket. This year, with “leap day,” it was even longer, and though it was still shorter than most months, it didn’t seem to release its grip on me until this morning.

I am reminded of the Dar Williams lyric: “And February was so long, that it lasted into March…”

This is not to say February didn’t hold some great things. I got to play shows in five different cities, some with Drummer Davis and some with the immensely talented and delightful Emily Henry. I traveled (with Emily) to Kansas City, MO for the Folk Alliance International Conference and spent several days connecting with fellow musicians and people I look up to in my particular branch of the music industry. I did interviews for two podcasts and had fun being smart and silly with other smart and silly people.

Also - I got to hang out with this baby goat.

Shows! Colleagues! Goats! A lot of good things. But I found myself slipping into an old pattern of over-scheduling and spreading myself too thin over too many miles. In the last two weeks alone, I spent 47 hours driving. (I know. I KNOW.)

I am taking a couple of days this week to remember that just because I can, doesn’t mean I have to do it this way. I keep learning and relearning this lesson. This time, I’m grateful that my desire to course correct came before burnout. I’m getting a massage tomorrow to work on disassembling the brick wall that is my upper back. I’ve also started taking a pottery class, which is fun both because I love to play with dirt and because it’s good for artists to have hobbies they don’t plan to monetize. (My weird little ceramic dishes are just for me and whoever I decide to give a funky present to…the adult version of handing my parents a piece of construction paper weighed down with macaroni art. here, i love you. i’m sorry it’s not better but i’m trying.)

This month, I have three weeks blessedly free of travel. I’m going to recalibrate. I’m going to start seeds for my garden. I’m going to sit in the woods and think and probably write after that thinking. And I’m going to work on remembering that this, too, is my work.

Xo,

Juliana

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