Evolution

Driving home from ballet this morning, there was salsa and meringue music on NPR.  It hurts my heart a little to hear it, but makes me smile at the same time, because it's the soundtrack of a time in my life that is gone.  It was a time when I was young, intrepid, slightly reckless and passionate about life.  I was on my own and the future was mine to script.  Now, that time and place are gone, those friends are gone and there is no going back. 

From the comfort of my car this morning, waiting in the alley for Araceli, surrounded by the trimmings of my life - ballet shoes, books, homework, sheet music, sippy cups - I know I wouldn't go back if I had the choice.  Here I am on a snowy Saturday, enveloped in beauty, doing exactly what I love.  I never imagined myself as this old back when I was 20, listening to the Gipsy Kings and longing to live in Spain.  I thought I would be young and free forever.  By the grace of God, that didn't happen, and I stumbled into the perfect life, in spite of myself.  My soundtrack now is decidedly less glamorous:  Suzuki violin/guitar/piano/cello, you name a volume.  Taka Taka Stop Stop gets stuck in my head for days on end.  I swear I can hear Ruby's guitar CD in the car, even when it's not on.  But this is who I am at the very core; a mom, wife, teacher, friend, and if there is very little room for salsa in the mix, well, that's the beauty of evolution.