Auditions and Deodorant. Unrelated? I think not.

So a big part of the reason I haven't been posting much is that I'm auditioning for doctoral programs in flute performance. Music performance in general, and flute specifically, is ridiculous. The stakes are high, wages are low, jobs are few, and admission is insane (one school to which I applied had around eighty applicants for the Doctorate in Musical Arts program... for one possible spot). When I started the process, I reassured myself smugly that I would be just fine if I didn't get in anywhere, but I'm not sure I actually believed that it was a possibility. I applied to seven schools, made it past the recorded pre-screening round at five of them, and spent my own hard-earned money to fly out and stay at each school; I took lessons with as many of the teachers I could, and prepared as much as my full-time job would allow.

And then this week (after a volley of family stuff that was intense in its own right) I found out that I didn't make the cut at one school. It's the first school that I've heard from as far as an actual admissions decision, and it wasn't my first choice. However, the fact that it was lower on my list almost made it sting more. So I spent the week trying to find my center again, and genuinely worrying, maybe for the first time since I started this process, that I actually wouldn't get in anywhere at all, and would face either another year of the expensive and heart-hurting audition process, or finally cutting the cord between me and my flute, my companion of almost twenty years. The prospect of any of those things having to happen hurts a lot, and will hurt a lot if it needs to be, but like my co-teacher reminded me, nobody signs up for music because it's easy. I do it because I love it, and it's a hard, abusive, soul-wrenching love that doesn't get any easier with time or experience.

So anyway, I was catatonic. It was getting to the point where my dude probably felt like he was talking to a wall. Plus, the toughest/scariest Friday audition was coming up, at the school that I couldn't even believe passed me on to the audition round.

Then I woke up Thursday morning, and it was like somebody had been whispering in my ear all night, "the worst thing they can say is no." Maybe it was my dude. I don't know. If it was, I feel totally bad because he stayed up all night whispering to his crazy me. But for some reason, it made sense, that they can say no, and it will hurt and might cause me to make some decisions about my life path, but it ultimately won't affect who I am at the very core of me, the place where I hold my values and my friends and family, and my love of music.

Hippie self-restoring deodorant!

So I decided that there was only one thing to do, and that thing was to make my own deodorant. Because how else do you solidify your sense of self?

I have been working on decreasing the chemicals in my personal products, and while the evidence about aluminum exposure from antiperspirants isn't conclusive, it is unsettling. Plus, it's a pain to run out of deodorant, and would be awesome to be able to just whip up a batch in the kitchen. I also believe that I should be able to eat the things that I put on my body, which is why I use coconut oil as lotion, rice for heating pads, and vinegar as a hair rinse. Apparently my body is a tropical Hoppin' John melange. (This only makes sense if you put vinegar on your Hoppin' John, which I recommend.)

And yes, this whole train of thought is weird, but in times of uncertainty, I've found that it's better for me to fall back on something that feels steady, like something I can do with my own hands (thank you Nick Offerman and my parents).

I used a recipe like this one, but altered it a little bit, thusly:

1/3 c. coconut oil
1/3 c. arrowroot powder
2 T. baking soda

My dude loves me this much.

Then I mixed it, wadded it up into a ball, and put it in a mason jar. I then proudly announced to the dude that my sense of self had been restored, and that no matter what happened at my audition, I had made my own deodorant. To his credit, he did not back slowly away like I expected.

The deodorant worked well for my audition day, which went okay. I'm still fairly convinced that I shouldn't have been allowed past the pre-screening round, but I'm reassured that no matter what, I'm still me. And I have a dude who loves me, food and warmth, and the ability to do something worthwhile with my life.

And I can make my own deodorant. Bam.