Small developments on day 45 in Montreal...

Two small developments as we approach the mid-point of our sabbatical:

1) My mind no longer automatically goes to Spanish when I try to speak French.

2) I have discovered the sloppy ways I play bass, so now I can work slowly and carefully to make them less so.

Both of these small developments make a big difference as I move through each day. I don't

have to worry that I will speak Sprench while at a bookstore or grocery check out line. I may still run out of Quebecois vocabulary, but it will be"une absence né du français." And knowing what I do that is sloppy and slurred as a bass player gives shape and form to my daily practice. I am learning to play something slowly and precisely these days. My inclination it to get the basics and hurry on to something else, but that is part of the problem, n'est-ce pas?

Such small developments are wonderfully humbling in a helpful way. "May heaven protects us, cher monsieur," writes Camus in The Fall, "from being set on a pedestal by our friends." There is a reason why bass teachers ask their students to practice some of the time in front of a mirror: it is rarely a pretty sight! It gets better - incrementally - but watching my mistakes head on makes their ugliness vivid in a way that is useful rather than shameful.

Later tonight we're headed off to a jam session at Diese Onze Jazz Club to take in some of the hot local players. This week I hope to get a bow for the bass, make arrangements to purchase this bad boy and maybe even get an article I've written for the Christian Century sent off for their consideration.

And so it goes on day 45 of our 109 days in Montreal...