Empty Rope’s A Miss

When I was a girl in grade school, recess was my favorite thing. Whether it was playing four square, climbing on monkey bars, or jumping rope, I had to do it. Jumping rope was a group activity, usually there were two people turning a rope and single jumpers  reciting   rhymes while jumping and doing tricks.

“Not last night but the night be fore…..24 robbers came knock-ing at my door” was one. There was a sequence, it was rhythmic, all the repetition meant those who knew it could show off and those who didn’t could learn it……. One of the ones that was simple went: ” Keep the kettle boiling, empty rope’s a misss”… meaning that as soon as someone jumped out, someone needed to jump in and follow, keep it moving.

I missed bata class last Thursday night because the teacher wanted to go to a practice of a dance group he’s now drumming for. We were supposed to have a makeup on Monday night, which I missed half on purpose. I forgot about it until just before and didn’t want to go, so I didn’t. Then I started feeling uneasy, felt something in the wind, so I called a couple of people and left them messages.

I found out from the other bata student that from now on we can’t have bata lessons on either Tuesday or Thursday because the teacher is now a regular for whoever he’s been drumming for. AND he’s suddenly been asked to put together an orchestra for some big deal in Las Vegas. So I’m SOL (spit outta luck) on getting a lesson this week. And since the new student gets a private lesson Wednesday nights and has something else Monday nights, we non rookies get Monday nights.

I’ve been resenting that  new student a whole lot lately because she  was my big buddy there for awhile socially and willing to regularly practice and now it feels like she’s shut me out completely. I see her in congolese class weekly and am clear that negative transference is in full swing for me. She’s become every person who’s wronged, ignored and abandoned me. I can’t call or email her, approach her because whether she denies or confirms it, I’m hurt and pissed off at her big time and will only feel worse.

I know I have to start praying for her until I forget she exists and whatever she thinks or feels is no longer something I care about. Besides my internal emotional fusion with the idea of her being a caring friend I should be able to depend on, who should care for me and continue to express interest in and support for us doing things together, there is a dark anger about her decreasing my feeling of solidarity with the drumming class group, which is fragile to begin with.

Yet this is partly a distortion of some sort, a thing birthed out of my inner shadow where undifferentiated super ego, infantile aversion, deep separation anxiety and  paranoia all mix together in a shaker. I know that if I do not act on my distorted perceptions, they will not take shape and my very bad feelings will eventually fade and pass. At the moment, however, I feel cursed in my life and shit on by this person.






About Shirley

I started this blog to expand and explore my rhythm horizons as a hand drummer. That exploration includes touching on the rest of my life and inner world as authentically and truthfully as possible.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *