Hello, friends! Once, again I am finding myself needing to apologize. Last week, I hurt myself rather severely. This is going to sound funny, but it’s not funny. On the 28th, I had such a fit of coughing that I wrenched the cartilage away from one of my ribs. Everything hurts. The left side of my torso feels like it’s on fire, as if I suffer a perpetual case of heartburn. Bending down, reaching up, pushing open doors, lying on my back–all these basic actions are excruciating. So, it’s been a bummer of a week. Fortunately, I started feeling a lot better yesterday. The sensation of heartburn still lingers, though.
To make up for my absence, I’m offering you a bit of a backlog of photos–all taken from my phone, which doesn’t have such a hot camera. This first one was from last night. You locals will recognize it as Cincinnati’s iconic Music Hall, which borders the newly renovated Washington Park. I was at a symphony concert last night at the park with some friends of mine. This was the inaugural concert for the CSO’s new conductor, and, as the local NPR radio ads attested, it was also a never-before-seen-anywhere-on-planet-Earth outdoor concert and light show.
And while the music, light show, and the company of my friends was all enjoyable, what I noticed most were the people. A crush of humanity of every side. Now, all these people are a great thing for Cincinnati. And a great thing for the symphony. All these people completely overwhelmed me and made me reflect on the book I’m reading now, Quiet by Susan Cain.
Cain’s book made a splash last year and put spotlight-averse introverts in the spotlight. I’m an introvert myself and have found this book to be very validating. At last night’s concert, I watched myself have a classic introvert reaction to all the stimulation. According to Cain (and my own life experiences back this up), introverts receive stimuli (sights, noises, smells, people, movement, etc) from their senses simultaneously and they process it very quickly. Which means, an introvert can go to, say, an outdoor concert and “get” it quickly. After 30 minutes or an hour, the introvert will feel like, “been there, done that, let’s go home.” It’s not about being antisocial or being a party pooper. It’s about how our brains work. We short circuit with all that stimulation, and we need some down time to recharge.
So, I was watching myself have that experience last night. Because I truly wanted to see the once-in-a-universe light show and spend time with my friends, I just focused on the music and the lights and tried to tune out everything else.
This next photo is from an event I went to last weekend–before my rib injury. This event was more my style (interestingly, I was with the same friends)–low key, a handful of people, good beer. People talked about ideas instead of just chattering.
And, finally, to end this post, I’ll leave you with another photo. I’m sure you’ve missed seeing Scout and Pruf as much as you’ve missed reading my posts. Here, they are. My little termites, chewing away on their hunks of wood on a summer evening.
Hope McAllister Miller 