All About You FRIDAY – Circle Theory

Group of young friends doing circle symbol with hands together

I woke up this morning thinking about circles. That is an odd thing because I’m much more of a triangle person. I like odd numbers. I like defined lines that stop and start. I appreciate sharp angles.

But there is something about a circle.

I teach patients about the “movement bubble”. Imagine standing inside of a perfectly round bubble. As long as your movement remains in that bubble, you are injury free. Exercise and movement enlarge that bubble. A sedentary lifestyle shrinks the bubble. And asymmetry makes that bubble a funny shape, allowing you to move really well in one direction and creating injury with minor movements in another. I make my living fixing people’s funny-shaped bubbles.

My guitar teacher told me I needed to learn the Circle of Fifths. “It’s the alphabet of music,” he says. It is defined as “a visual diagram in music theory that organizes the 12 chromatic pitches of the Western music system in a continuous cycle of ascending perfect fifths (or descending perfect fourths”. Confused? Here’s a visual:

I stare at it and realize I just need to memorize the thing. Because right now, I’m not sure how it will make me a better musician. But he’s a great musician who can improvise any solo he wants. So I will learn the Circle of Fifths.

On October 6, at 3:02 p.m., I became a “Lola” again. (That’s what Filipinos call their grandmas.) Liz’s stepdaughter endured 23 hours of labor and delivered the most perfect little girl. Our household that had a cloud of grief from the loss of Oakley is now filled with joy and hope at the birth of Harlow Jane Kieun Lee. That’s a lot of names for a tiny girl. I looked up the meaning of her names:

Harlow means “rock hill” (and is derived from an Old English word). Jane in Hebrew means “God is gracious”. Kieun (her give Korean name) means “gracious foundation” or “prayerful grace”. A strong girl filled with grace and prayer. This world needs more of that.

I cradled her in my arms for the first time on October 7 at 7:27 p.m. She is a miracle. Her sweet face topped with lots of black hair. Her tiny fingers and feet. That newborn baby scent. I’d had a demanding day at the clinic and we had to drive 50 minutes to see her. But the second I laid eyes on her, my world became perfect. Round again.

I whispered in her ear, “Harlow, if you ever want or need anything, just ask Lola. I’ll get it for you.” Because that’s what Lolas do.

Today, I will start a journal for her. I am going to write about how much I anticipated her arrival. I will tell her about how I felt the first time I held her. I’ll include our first photo together. And I will fill the pages with anecdotes and pictures about about my adventures and places I think she should explore. I will pass on wisdom. Teach her through my life. Tell her about the goodness of God.

And when she’s old enough to appreciate it, I’ll give it to her. By then, it will be filled with lots of stories, including some we will write together. By then, I will be old. And she’ll just be getting started on seeing the world.

Movement bubbles. Circle of Fifths. Circle of Life.

From the day we arrive on the planet
And, blinking, step into the sun
There’s more to see than can ever be seen
More to do than can ever be done
There’s far too much to take in here
More to find than can ever be found
But the sun rolling high
Through the sapphire sky
Keeps great and small on the endless round

Maybe I could become a circle person after all.

It’s been a long week. Don’t forget to celebrate.

(P.S. I’m heading out on a great adventure and I’ll see you back here on October 21. If you’re into travel, follow me on Facebook. Because a writer can’t stop writing. I’m off to restore the roundness in my world.)

Until next time…