Thursday, September 15, 2011

Goin' Cafe Style

I'm sitting in a lovely cafe around the corner from my house. They definitely got it right with this one. It's got a Parisian style, beautiful Venice style murals on the walls, lots of plants, lovely light music playing in the background, hardwood floors, quaint little wooden tables, big cozy couches if you're feeling more "loungey" and, of course, free wifi. I made myself come here to do some work and to write because I'm feeling the need to push myself out of my cave. It's very easy, in this post mom era, to hole up in my beautifully feng shui-ed nest every day. I do work, I play with Smokey, work , Smokey , work, Smokey. All good but, it's easier to slip into a little depression when I stay in, by myself too much.

So I researched some of the cafe's in my hood and found this little gem only a few blocks away. I have a performance tonight so it's nice to keep the day kind of light and breezy because I put out so much damn energy on stage.

Sunday was a harder day for me than expected. This is the first year of 911 where I know what it's like to lose a loved one. And to lose them suddenly in one day. Boom, they're just gone.

So this year all I could think about was all the husbands, wives, daughters and sons, mothers and fathers who all lost a dear one on that day. I was overwhelmed with missing my mother and with compassion and sadness for all the other grievers that day. But I got a healthy cry in and then I pushed myself out the door to go shopping for more feng shui stuff.


I tell you, the most recent coolest little feng shui ( and green) addition to my pad is the "SodaStream Jet" machine! It's spectacular! You see, I love fizzy drinks ( carbonated drinks) Diet Hansens from Trader Joes, kombuchas, just plain mineral water, soda and cran, soda and bitters...anything soda. It's so much more interesting than regular water. I love the texture. And I wind up drinking like 3 times the amount of water when it's fizzy which is all for the good. I do much better when I'm well hydrated.  But all those cans and bottles can take up lots of room in the fridge not to mention, lots of room in the recycling bin and therefore lots of room on our little planet. But this little device solves all those problems. You just fill up a bottle with regular water, insert it in the machine, press the button a couple of times and bam! your water's fizzy. It's great. There's no plug or battery, just a CO2 bottle in the back that you replace every couple of months. You can buy just about any flavoring of your choice to put in the water. Or just a squeeze of lime or lemon will do the trick too. It's simply spectacular! I highly recommend the Soda Stream to any fizzy drink fans out there. It's just absolutely refreshing!

Thursday, September 8, 2011

The healing journey

This is my first post since April.

For the past few months I've wanted to come back to my blog but my thoughts were so dark and painful that I simply couldn't bring myself to write about it. I went from life changing discoveries to extreme emotional pain. Mainly just trying to keep it together to maintain my life. I've seen 2 individual therapists and attended a 5 week "grief counseling group". All of which have been very helpful moving toward healing.

The hardest time was really from March 7 ( the day my mother died) through early June. The taking care of all the details surrounding an unexpected death such as hers, while intensely grieving. It's amazing how difficult it is to take care of everything while trudging along in the molasses of such heavy emotion. The smallest tasks are somehow labored and stumbled; forget about the big tasks. And everything was up to me.

My parents divorced when I was little, she never remarried and I am an only child, so it was just me handling all of her affairs. The notice to the paper, the memorial, the bureaucracy, the possessions, the notifications, the legal necessities, the house, everything. Overwhelmed is a very small word. I'm very lucky that I had tremendous support from her friends and colleges and that I had my wonderful network of caring and sensitive friends. And most of all, that I had my amazingly supportive mate (my "sweet") with me at every step, and my wonderful father who, even though he lives thousands of miles away from me, was on call for me 24/7. They all were truly a gift. So because of all of them, I was never really alone. But at the end of the day, every day, it was just me, spinning around in my head trying to come to terms with this new reality I found myself in.

Since then, color has begun to come back into my life little by little and I am definitely seeing some blue sky. I'm not just living in a world of desolate grey. Last week, while in yoga, I had the insight that just about everything I'm doing right now is my way to heal myself. To help with the grief and to move on to this next chapter in my life in a healthy way. So I thought that's what I should write about. This journey of healing.

Now, I have my pitfalls for sure, and I'm sure they will be showing up in my blog as well. I didn't stray very far from a glass of white wine for the entire month of March, most of April and definitely over half of May. My mother and I frequently enjoyed white wine together. We had many a sprightly evenings drinking wine, laughing, talking, cooking...just being. Wine was our third buddy at times and so it's not hard to figure out why wine became a loyal companion of mine after her death. But my little liquid pal, when played with too much, very quickly starts taking away more than it's giving. So I began turning to other coping mechanisms that are far more healthy, more interesting, have more variety, are more creative and oddly enough, don't come with the dismal side effects.  I'll get into to those new coping mechanisms in a bit. Now I'm sure my little pal will still show up from time to time, but I'm getting many other new pals that are bringing me lots of joy and peace. So now I'll begin the dive into my healing journey.

The Journey Back

It's been treacherous terrain no doubt about it,  but some lovely discoveries, hints of magic and little miracles also seem to be dropping into my life that are instrumental in bringing the color back. Instrumental in helping me to regain a sense of who I am, and even transition into a stronger more self-expressed me, more self-actualized me. I am embracing the inevitable rebirth that accompanies death. And now my journey is one of healing. A journey back to me and a journey toward the evolving new me. Uncovering, discovering and recovering the truthful, authentic me.

There have been several specifics changes, behaviors and focuses that have led to the healing and rebuilding of myself. That is what I'd like to focus on for a while in this blog. The Healing Journey, The Journey Back. And probably the inevitable pit falls in the Journey.

Ok, in short the magic healing cocktail seems to be a combination of Feng Shui, Yoga, Meditation, many cozy moments wrapped in a blanket watching a movie,  anything that makes me laugh, piano playing, singing, writing, green tea, yerba matte tea, my father, my close friends, my incredibly supportive mate (my "sweet") and the clincher, my kitty "Smokey". "Smokey was my mother's cat but she and I bonded heavily the night she died and have kind of clung to each other ever since. She has added more than I ever could have imagined. To take on "mothering" a pet right after my mother died had a beautiful symmetry to it. All listed are prioritized heavily right now. My meds to heal my pain.

No matter how many times I try to describe the effect of my mother's death on me, it still seems to be hard to really get it across. At times I feel like I'm  expected to start my new original music project immediately and I just can't seem to do it. It seems premature. There is this overriding feeling that I have to heal my insides before I'm ready to create some new music. So my focus hasn't necessarily been music. Of course I'm doing lots of shows and gigs because I'm a professional working singer, I still love my acoustic duet "DNA Sings" and we're still playing every Wednesday night, but spearheading my own project has to wait until I feel more put together on the inside. That being said, all of these healing techniques, to me, are all part of my artistic journey as well. Anything that makes me feel invigorated, alive and happy gets more of my attention.

The first big breakthrough and really the most poignant and pivotal moment started when I discovered Feng Shui. Specifically the book  Clear Your Clutter with Feng Shui. Life changing! This all began around the middle of June. I really had no idea how much this would change me. Change my outlook, ease my grief, ignite my hope about the future, empower me, excite me, and reground me into myself. It turned out to be soooo much more than just rearranging furniture and bringing in some flowers. Wow!

For those of you new to Feng Shui, it's essentially creating positive, abundant and flowing energy in your space. Feng Shui is an art and science that's over 3000 years old and it literally translates into "wind-water". Using the energy of the elements is very important in FS. Fire, water, wood, metal are all incorporated. It also asserts that individual sections of your space can be connected to certain parts of your life - creativity, relationship, career...etc. It focuses on making room for and enhancing your space so that the positive chi energy can flow to all the areas. So abundance and prosperity can flow. But before you can create that energy you have to get rid of a bunch of crap! A bunch of crap that's in your space that's probably blocking the energy from flowing. All your clutter. Not to alienate by sounding "new age-y" and stuff, but the change it makes is really powerful. It's like magical spring cleaning! But without getting too far down the rabbit hole I'll explain how it started.

I live in San Francisco and have an amazingly wonderful flat. I LOVE my apartment. It's been my nest, my cave, my safe place. It's one of those hardwood floor high ceiling San Francisco beauties. I've lived in it for 6 years now. I've been incredibly busy touring, performing, working, and just being pulled out of town constantly. In the last few years I've wanted to kind of "face-lift" my apartment but I simply hadn't had time. Hadn't had time to really get it looking and feeling the way I wanted. And I had been feeling more and more stagnant, cluttered and stuck in my apartment for a while. Even before my mom died. But after I tidied up her affairs and closed up her house, I was just left with my apartment. It was all I had left that could be called home so I began a fierce focus on making my space more enjoyable for me.  This was late May 2011. I was feeling the need for a serious change.

Well, on June 14 is when it all began to change. It was on that night that I had made a date to go out to dinner with a friend of mine (who I'll call "Amber" to respect her privacy). She's a wonderful woman who lives nearby. She has also just suffered a tremendous loss of a loved one so we became kind of soul connected. Before we went to dinner, we stepped into her apartment for a minute. I'd never seen her apartment and holy crap! It was beautiful! Like a museum. And the energy was so palpably LOVELY. What really struck me is that our apartments are very similar. Similar size, similar layout. But the difference in how her apartment felt and how mine felt was extraordinary. I was effusive in my compliments of her flat and she just humbly said. "I'm really into Feng Shui."

So, as we proceeded to the Thai place around the corner for dinner, we started talking Feng Shui. I told Amber that, oddly enough, another friend of mine had recommend a book to me about a month before my mother died. I had just left a band that I was in and I was ready for some reinventing. My friend said "This book will help. It's exactly what you need right now" As it turns out the book was Clear Your Clutter with Feng Shui. Too coincidental indeed. Feng Shui was showing up everywhere.

After dinner Amber and I went to my apartment so she could give me some ideas of where to start. She made just a few suggestions and that did it. I was up until 3am scrubbing, moving, clearing and rearranging. It was so exciting! It was the first true feeling of inspiration or excitement I had felt since my mother's death. Smokey was en fuego while I was scrubbing. She was scurrying all around the apartment playing with her toys, picking up on my energy. We were both very excited. This was exciting stuff!

That night is when it all began. Over the next few days I read "Clear Your Clutter with Feng Shui" cover to cover. In the last 2 and 1/2 months, I've become a FS maniac. I've turned it into a verb. Anyone calls me and asks what I'm doing and my first answer is ... "I'm Feng Shui-ing." The Salvation Army has come to my house three separate times to haul away crap.  I've probably gone to Salvation Army, used clothing stores and used books stores a dozen times with bags and bags and bags of clothes, books, CD's pans, and just random crap to either sell or give away - all unused, hardly used or just taking up space. You'd be AMAZED at how much is in your house or apartment that is unused and taking up space that needs to transition to another home where it will be brought back to life. Or at how much of the stuff that you have has old, negative experiences, energies, and memories attached to it. So that when you see it, whether you know it or not, you're calling up old negative stuff and therefore blocking new cool positive stuff from coming in. The book really lays out the criteria to think about when clearing out your clutter.

The change in me has been dramatic and powerful. I feel lighter and free-er. I feel like I'm taking my life back. That I'm not just the victim of circumstance and grief but that I'm positively and proactively elevating my life. It is truly the first thing that helped me turn the corner from depressed and despondent to excited and hopeful.  The difference in the way my apartment feels is extraordinary. Everyone who comes over notices it. My mate couldn't believe it. He marvels at how it doesn't even feel like the same space. It's a small apartment but it feels twice as big as it did. And the energy is peaceful, playful, cozy, comfortable and grounded.

I'm not at all done with the FS. It really never ends. I think once you're bitten by the FS bug you're always looking around seeing how you can improve your space and it's a never ending mystical journey.

So that's it for my first blog back. Thanks all for listening. Soon to come is lots about yoga, meditation, friends, laughter, singing, art, music, living the truth...and anything else that points me in that excited or empowered direction. Or the little bumps in the road that I will inevitably run into. I will be writing much more frequently. It's part of my self-imposed healing journey. And they might not all be as long. I just kind of felt the need to catch up on all the goings-ons since April.

I still miss my mother every day. And wish she was here to see and share all the changes caused by my FS explosion. I pulled out the vacuum that she gave me the other day and completely broke down in tears. You never know when it's going to hit. Certain songs bring me to tears and there are some songs I can't sing all the way through without breaking down. I'm sure I'll be experiencing that for a while. But it's in that tender place that I hold her and will hold her always. Until the next time...

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Nothing can prepare you...

This is my first blog since what seemed like a nuclear torpedo crashed into my life as I had known it. Nothing could have prepared me for this. Because, as I now realize, nothing can prepare for the death of your mother. Especially a sudden death. Where one day she is just gone. No goodbye, no final words, no hugs, no "I love you" nothing. You are just left there, and she is gone.

My mother died suddenly, in her home in Santa Rosa, California on Monday March 7, 2011. The police declared the time of death 8:18 am. The Autopsy called it "Sudden Cardiac Death" She was 68 years old. The last words anyone heard were heard by her friend who she called for help. All her friend heard over the phone was a faint, out of breath, child-like voice struggling out the words..."help, help me, help." Her friend called 911 but by the time the police and the paramedics got there, she was gone. Incidentally, she lives right across the street from Police and Fire Station so we are all very perplexed at how long it took them to get there. But that's another blog.

That morning, I was in my flat in San Francisco just waking up when I heard my partner open my front door and enter. He pulled up a chair to the side of the bed, held my hand and said. "I love you very much. It's going to be a hard day, sweet, a very hard day. It's your mother." I slowly and clumsily tried to sit myself up looking confused and lost. He said "She had an episode this morning and was taken to the hospital." My face turned to a look of panic and concern. Then the words that you'll never forget for the rest of your life came out of his mouth. "She didn't make it."

At that moment the world literally stopped and I went white and numb. No emotion really, just stunned. I said "No, no , no" in a stilted and droned tone. The rest of the day is bleary and blurred. I threw the most haphazard, non sensical things into a bag. Jeans, hairspray, a dress, a luna bar, a hat...I don't even remember the rest. My incredibly supportive and helpful partner guided me to his car where he shuffled me into the passenger seat. We got coffee at Angelina's Cafe down the block, water from a convenient store and began the race up to Santa Rosa. That hour long drive is when it all just began kicking in. I started making the calls. It is in that process that it really becomes real. I called my dad, pertinent friends, anyone else I could think of.

We went straight to the hospital where one of her best friends with her husband was waiting for me. I walked into the lobby of the Emergency Room and she and I crashed into each other arms in a hug that was like clinging to life. We stood there hugging, shaking and sobbing. When we finally released the desperate embrace to take in the situation around us I was led into a little, tiny, sterile, cold room to be given further information. The priest, told me that they had already taken her body away so I couldn't see her. Everyone told me that was probably better. I explained that she was not a Christian so we didn't need any of his formal services. He began giving me information about Funeral Homes and such...all I heard was words, words, words. Nothing could be put together to make sense.

What then began is my first experience with the deep, muggy, murky, prickly, empty, lonely, swirling world of what they call "Grief." I've never had anyone close to me die before so this was my first time. What a way to start.

I'm an only child and my parents divorced when I was 13. I lived with my mother from that point on so needless to say we were as close as a mother and daughter could be. We locked arms and took the world on together. We were a system. A survival team. We were enmeshed. A word I came to understand later when I started reading literature on Co-Dependency. My mother and I definitely qualified. This only added to the complicated myriad of emotions I was about to experience. After doing some reading on "Greif" I've realized that I fall under the category of "Complicated Grief." The mother/daughter intertwining brings it all out. The good, the bad and the ugly.

The death seemed cruel and confusing. Not how it happened but "Why??" The only medical condition she had was COPD- Chronic Obtrusive Pulmonary Disease. It's essentially a form of emphysema. She smoked most of her life and her lungs had suffered some irreversible damage. We called it compromised breathing. It mainly meant she couldn't go up hills, lift heavy things, or do anything that would strain her lungs. She had inhalers she used to help her pathways. We never thought this would cause a sudden fatality. Especially at this stage in her life. I'm continually investigating how COPD might have contributed to her death.

She went very quickly and many say that's better, I'm still not sure. The death was cruel because it just didn't seem like her time. She was in mid stride, happier than she's ever been, more self-expressed and self-empowered than she had been her whole life. She was making great money working part-time as a Special Ed Teacher. A job that she LOVED and was extremely gifted at. Everyone at her school LOVED her - teachers, faculty and students alike. She was in that glorious place where she got to work with the kids but without the crushing overload that full time teachers experience. That she had experienced for so many years.

She was a very gifted artist. She actually got her BA in Fine Arts but when the divorce hit she had to put her art dreams on the back burner and find a job that would support her and her daughter. But the art was always prominent. Our house was bursting with all her work. Her paintings, etchings, prints and potteries. She had moved to more arts and crafts working on her newest creation "Plant Bling." Little sticks with sparkly beads boinging out on the top. You put the stick in the soil of the plant and the beads boing out around the leaves giving your plants some "bling." They are delightful and everyone took note of them. Teachers, friends and neighbors all marveled at her "Plant Bling"

This "life" that was illuminating from her made her death even more nonsensical to all of us who knew her well. It's been over a month and we are all still fighting our frustration. Our irritation. Our anger that she was taken too soon. You can absolutely bury yourself in the quicksand of "Why?" if you let yourself.

But then we turn to me. The change of color I was about to experience that rocked me to my core. It was like the etherial umbilical chord was being ripped from me bit by bit causing me to lose all sense of myself.

I got through the first day of death with copious amounts of white wine. White wine became a pal of rescue for most of the month of March and well into April. I don't know if that is the right way to handle it but I simply couldn't stand the pain in my abdomen and the relentless, self -critical voices in my head convincing me that her death was all my fault. I really believed that. One hundred percent. I went over all of the things I did, the choices I had made in the last few months, not being there enough. Every road led to it's all my fault.

The bomb really hit me on the third day. She died on a Monday. Tuesday was a blurry mush of disbelief. Just keeping up with the stuff. Feeding her cats, breaking the news of her death the the closest people, managing everyone's utter shock. It wasn't until Wednesday that I started melting down. The day we went to the Mortuary to arrange to have her Cremated.

It was a notably gloomy day. Grey sky, grey air, grey, grey, grey. All I could see was grey. Luckily my partner was protecting and helping me. He drove the car to the Funeral Home. There's no way I could have driven through the tears. The parking lot was sad and empty and the building was droll and dull. Walking in the door to the sterile room, beige floor, beige wall, cold and stark had a chill that stiffened me. We sat on a sad, uncomfortable little flowered couch that looked like it came from the Good Will while we waited to go back into the little room to handle the paperwork. Signing the papers to have her cremated seemed like the most complicated, confusing paperwork I'd ever done in my life. And the tears wouldn't stop. I could barely maintain. I asked the same questions over and over again and couldn't even see where to print my name. We had to stop several times. Carmen, the gentle, older man who ran the Funeral Home just surrendered and got up to get me kleenex. We had to just wait until the emotional storm passed. I finally managed to sign the papers, I wrote the check, and then I slowly rose to walk back out to the car. Carmen put his hands on my shoulders, looked at me with loving grandpa eyes and said " I'm so sorry about your mother" and he gave me the longest most sincere hug I had ever had from a stranger.

My partner and I walked back out into the grey world, got into the car and I fell apart. Every part of me. I had this overwhelming, oppressive cloud come over me and I was convinced that I was nothing. That she was the spark in me. She was the light and without her I'm a complete nothing. I'm a dark, drab, failure. Dizzy dismay spelled that day. I had to call my father in a state of emergency. A frantic search for who I was.

Thank god my father and I have the relationship that we have. He has been outstanding. Keeping his cell phone on him in an "on call" status at all hours. Whether at work or asleep, he picks up and is there for me. I'm extraordinarily lucky to have him. I would need him as the hardest part of this journey was just beginning.

When someone dies, whether you want to or not, you inevitably start finding out things about them that you didn't know. This was very disorienting for me because, of course, I thought I knew everything about my mother. Well apparently there were many things I didn't know about her. She loved to eat at a fried fish taco stand when she would go to Estate Sales with her friend, she would bring all the teachers into faculty room to eat Fritos when things got too stressful at school, her students called her "Mommy" she put a smiley face in her checkbook when she balanced it to the penny, and she was working on delightful new art projects, making jewelry, and she had planned to put new dark curtains in my room. I'm sure it's so that I knew I could sleep well in there so I would come there more often. It's a lonely feeling to find these things out after she's gone because it makes me feel even farther away from her.

The next and most powerful form of grief for me was just about to hit. The complete self-loathing, self-blaming, self-criticizing, self-rejection basically a complete lack of self-worth. My mother and I had a dynamic that had a very strong pull on me. I found myself constantly trying to protect, take care, assist and lift her. At times it was as if, if i walked away from her she would fall down, make a mistake, hurt herself, break something. That if I didn't monitor her all the time, something would go wrong.

One Christmas Eve, I was at her house with my partner. We all were having quite a roaring time. The wine was a flowing, the music was playing, laughter was rolling through the evening. For one minute, I left to go into the kitchen while she was alone in the living room. Almost the minute I walked out of the room I heard this unsettling bang/ thump in the living room. I ran into see that my mother had fallen face down by the wall by the tv. I guess she was trying to plug something into the wall. She looked up and her face was completely bloody. She had slammed her upper lip on the side of a chair. I immediately thought it was my fault. "I never should have left the room, " I thought.

The next day my mother woke up looking like a cross between the Elephant Woman and Rocky. Her face was extremely swollen, bloody and black and blue. We were supposed to all go to a friend's house for Christmas dinner. We were supposed to go to this beautiful mansion in the elegant neighborhood in Santa Rosa. Needless to say, my mother decided not to go. I felt so guilty leaving her alone on Christmas day. She seemed ok with it but I know she would have loved it if I had stayed. And to this day, I still feel like I should have stayed with her and not gone to the dinner.

I have countless examples of this dynamic in our history. So it's not hard to imagine what I was absolutely pummeled with when she died alone in her house and I wan't there to save her. It's all my fault. I literally thought I "killed" her. I "killed her because I wasn't there enough, she was resisting my current partner, I didn't live with her, I didn't call her the day before just to say hi and see how she was doing. I lived in this cloud of regret and self blame constantly for the first two weeks after her death.

Another lovely dynamic to add to this complicated grief was that she did not like my current partner. She had dozens of reasons why she wanted me away from him. The problem was he was incredibly supportive to ME. Maybe he wasn't all about her, but he was a rock of support for ME. This caused palpable tension in our relationship.

After her death, I found myself hovering closely to her community of friends. They hovered close to me too. We were all hovering close to each other to soothe the big empty hole where my mother used to be. We were each grasping for her in each other. As we all started to break down our barriers it started to come out that my mother had been shall we say, quite publicly opinionated about my how she felt about my partner. She had been complaining to all of them about him and basically trashing him in the process. How was I supposed to explain to them that they were only hearing a "version" of him through my mother's clouded filter.

The despondency that followed was a new planet of dark for me. I have never felt more worthless, useless, and like I was a complete failure and disappointment. That I had wasted my life. I was struggling with my partner for my own reasons and this just pushed me over the edge. I almost broke up with him everyday for 3 weeks. Everyone told me not to make any big changes while grieving but I woke up every day with paralyzing anxiety that if I didn't break up with my partner I would always be living an ignoble life that my mother would and will disapprove of.

It was in the blackest moments that I realized that it was time for professional help. A recommendation from a dear friend led me to an incredible woman who we'll call Dr P.  She goes deep into the subconscious and psychological root causes of your current condition, block, or pain. It's like having an emotional root canal. We got to a very key place: I am not responsible for my mother's pain. Something clicked for me in this session. I have never had one of those therapy sessions where you have a "breakthrough." All of my talk therapy sessions in the past have left me with a hoarse tired voice and still feeling crappy. Just "talking, talking, talking" about all the intellectual reasons for my feelings have never led me to that ever desired "breakthrough." My experience with Dr P. was a whole new world for me. It was literally the turning point.

So now I am at least able to get back on my feet without feeling completely worthless so that I can deal with her affairs. Her friends and my friends have been outstanding. I am so blessed to have beautiful helpers fluttering around me at all times helping me out. They have really been the unsung heroes.

Her "Celebration of Life" Memorial Service that we had was exqusitely beautiful. It couldn't have gone more perfect. We had it at the most beautiful house of her dear friend. Many people showed up, it was a beautiful day, I gave a speech and we presented some DVD's of photos that we put together for the event. I had her artwork displayed all over the house. And all my musician friends came up and we played music in her honor to close the day. Many said it was the best Service they had ever been to. I am so grateful.

I am still in mid grief. There are many emotions running in and out of me. This blog is just the first of many to come on this topic I'm sure. I'm digging deeper into the cause of her death and I have a feeling a blog on the prescription inhalers used by COPD patients is in the near future. But for now, at least I pulled out of the murky muck enough to write again. And that's the first start. Thanks for reading, listening and sharing this experience. P.S. No matter how you feel about your mother, call her and tell her you love her. You'll be glad you did later.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Apathy trapathy

malfunction


What the f??? I've realized that I think my worst enemy isn't fear but complete Apathy! It's horrible. I've been drowning in Despondency, Apathy, and Fatigue for about 4 days now. Ok, yes, there is a very good chance that this is related to that certain female cycle. The numbers add up to the sum total of the zone of notorious mood swings, relentless fatigue, constant irritation, and random fits of crying because of a commercial, a comment or because I have to learn the song "Danny Boy." For the love of God, that song will tear your heart out. p.s. the only thing that saved me was the muppets version of Danny Boy. But I could even handle these random outbursts of tears, annoying irritations, and unbridled emotions  better if I wasn't also ensconced in the murky, muggy "cloud of Apathy and Fatigue."


So not only does the cloud completely take the wind out of my sails to do ANYTHING - including putting my laundry away, taking out the recycling and making the bed, but it also certainly doesn't help my forwarding of my goals and stuff. So it led me to think, "Am I the only one who goes through this?" "I mean, everyone else seems to just be going along, getting tons of things done, forwarding their life purpose. What's wrong with me? " It can feel very isolating.


So I'm determined to get some coping mechanisms for this tidal wave of "why bother??!" when it hits so I don't feel like I've AGAIN wasted 4 days of my life. Caffeine helps. Although on Tuesday I had 2 cups of coffee, a sugar free red bull, and a cosmic cranberry kombucha and I still passed out at 3pm...what the f?? Nothing kills my game like apathy and fatigue. Although I must say, I'm getting a new appreciating for the afternoon nap.


I know the spiritual answer is to just "not resist what is and allow the apathy." But then, honestly, I just feel like a lame slug.


So I'm drinking lots of water, eating lots of veggies, and enjoying an afternoon cup of green tea( after the nap, of course. Hopefully this will end in a couple of days. If anyone reading this has any other coping tools for this little droopy time, I'd be ever so grateful.


magic


But even while stumbling through the apathy fog, I still have to perform my shows. And last night, as it happens, the audience gives back to me when I need it.  DNA Sings played last night and we had a swarm of love shower us. Particularly these two fellows. They looked like bruising burley guys but underneath it all they were big teddy bears. One fellow in particular looked like he had seen his share of bars wan't far away from being homeless but he was beaming with joy. But then he donated quite a large sum of money to our tip jar ( so you can't judge a book by it's cover) and said that he was a harmonica player and loved my harmonica playing. He told Dave that he LOVED his guitar playing. I think he called Dave "iconic." The burley fellows said that they had not the best of days and we lifted them out of their funk.  When the music I play lifts people up, maybe out of whatever sadness or apathy they were feeling that day it is the biggest reward of them all.


views on the news


Simply can't escape the Charlie Sheen fascination. Is he the new revolution embodied? Standing up to the establishment, getting the people behind him on Twitter, refusing to be intimidated or bullied, using the media to forward his cause. Or is he really just bi-polar and about ready to crash into a mountain?
There is clearly an uproar happening in the rest of the world. Revolutionaries are using social networking formats to bring down dictatorships and unjustness in faster more efficient ways than we've ever seen. I'm certainly not putting Sheen in the same category as these transformational world changes, but it's definitely got me looking at all sides.

Sunday, February 27, 2011

new sprouting seeds

One of the exciting parts of leaving a situation in your life that isn't working is that it leaves lots of time and space for the things in your life to emerge and grow. But you have to be proactive. Which means maybe face some fear in order to take action steps in the direction of your dreams. Took some big ones this week.

There's this wonderful place in San Francisco called The Bazaar Cafe. It reminds of the bohemian cafes I've read about in Greenwich village in the 60's where all the poets, songwriters and artists would go to share their ideas, songs and inspirations. The BC has music and creative performances almost 7 days a week. And there's a little community of artists regulars who are always there, working on their stuff. One big rule they have is that NO COVERS are allowed to be played. It has to be all original music, or poetry, or comedy or whatever, but it has to be original. On Thursdays, they have an open mic for songwriters. Each songwriter gets 2 songs. Last Thursday, I signed up. I had the 8:22pm slot. Although, I have been singing professionally for over 10 years, I have never just sat down on a piano, in any kind of venue and played my songs by myself. Without a band, without someone else actually taking the piano chair, or teaching my songs to a guitar player and having he ( or she) play my song while I just sing. It's amazing how different it is to play and sing your own songs. It is the height of self expression. You can move and breathe with the song exactly as you want to. However, it's also a bigger risk. What if people don't like your song? When you play an old favorite cover song that you know everyone loves, you're almost guaranteed to get a positive response. The song does the work for you. An artist can almost hide behind the song that way. The song will win them over so your talent and skill sometimes doesn't even matter. Playing your own song, however, is a whole different dynamic.

I have wanted to do this forever but, alas, the little fear gremlin has been much too powerful. But this is the era of my taking on that little monster and busting through. The rewards are immense. The positive feedback I'm receiving is overwhelming. I have been offered a gig there. I'm on my way. The seed has been planted and with a just a little nurturing and watering it is already started to sprout. Very exciting. When you move in the direction of your dreams with integrity and honesty, the universe showers you with encouragent.

Another sprouting seed. My duet, DNA Sings . We played Friday night at Tiernan's. Gushing reaction from the crowd. Sold about 10 CD's, had an offer to do another show, it's like we cast a spell on the crowd. And even thought DNA does play covers, we put our own spin on them so there is room for artistic play. It's soooo rewarding to share your music and have it not only touch people but almost transfix them. To play a song, from the heart, and have it palpably elevate people's moods. It's the reason I do it. The music business can be so prickly that it's important to have these experiences to remind one why they wanted to play music in it in the first place.

ordering new DNA business cards...i know, what's a business card? Believe it or not they still come in useful from time to time.

It's Sunday, play day...have a great one. Enjoy!

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

complaining

In my quiet spiritual time this morning, I was reminded about the toxic effects of complaining. That when you complain you give your power away to others. Good reminder. I found an interesting article on Complaining by Steve Pavlina that dives into the different aspects of how unhelpful complaining really is.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

wide open spaces

It's a beautiful Tuesday here in San Francisco. I'm well slept and looking ahead to how I'm going to create this day. I've recently had a pretty major life change. In November of 2010, I left a professional situation that I have been in for 5 years. I left because every bone in my body and every instinct that screamed at me kept telling me the same things. "You're not happy" and "You're destined for something else in this world". I could no longer ignore or shove down these voices. And as scary as it seemed, I had to make the change.

Another big change happened because a, shall we say, family duty that I have been in charge of for about 5 years finally came to nearing it's end. I have been the Administrator for my deceased uncle's Estate. He was my mother's brother. I did not know my uncle very well but I have a very small family, and due to the emotional chaos it was causing my mother, I offered to be Administrator. Boy, was I unprepared for what I had walked into. Let's just say I was completely unprepared for how crazy, mean, and unreasonable people can get in matters of money. I have been bullied, attacked and threatened by his former business partner. I have been legally bullied, harassed and terrorized by his former business partner's unscrupulous lawyer. And I have been constantly pulled to deal with what seem to be unending Estate Probate details. However, things are nearing a close and I, hopefully, will soon be totally free from that situation.

I also lost a very part time little job that I was doing on the side. I have these little side incomes to supplement my career during the slow times. The music business is very up and down and you have to be prepared for a few slow periods. I lost the job because the woman I was working for moved away.

As I reflect on it now, it's much more than a coincidence that these three situations were all in my life during the same 5 years and that they all ended in December of last year. All of them... I believe that when the universe converges on us like that, that it is more than random. I believe in the Law of Attraction, in the force of our energies, thoughts and desires. And the ability of all of these things to come together to dramatically change the circumstances in our lives. I believe that I am being given a gift from the universe to truly take on my own life. To take the reigns in a more definitive way than I ever have. To direct my own ship. To truly create the life I want to lead, not just scramble constantly in the life I find myself in. The universe has felt and heard how unhappy I have been for several years in all of these situations. And in one fell swoop...woooosh...I'm out of all of them. I didn't plan it that way. They all just randomly fell away at the same time.

So, I am now in a whole new place of discovery. I am here looking at my life as a big wide open space. A blank canvas ready for me to create and color it anyway I choose. It's unbelievably freeing but also very scary. It has made me aware of how convenient it is to have the drama in your life distract you from having to face the true inner you. All of the pain, confusion, anger, sadness, resentment, depression and apathy that was caused from the Big 3 ( as I will call the three situations that fell away) kept me constantly distracted from really looking at the true, authentic me. And my constant focus on one or all of the Big 3 certainly kept me from focusing, asserting and putting the Authentic, Fully Expressed me out into the world.
So here I am.

There are things I've always wanted to do but have been too afraid or self-critical to do. Play my own songs on piano live in concert. Ride a motorcycle. Start a blog. So now is my time. I'm on the path and I'm taking them on. I've passed a motorcycle training course and I'm soon to have my license. I've been sitting in at an open mic with my own songs and have been offered a gig there. I'm preparing for that and preparing to record my own album. And well, the blog, you know the answer to that.

I'm only about two months in since the Big Change. But already I'm sooooo reminded that fear is such a destructive little gremlin. It sounds and feels SO BIG when it's clamoring away in my head but when I just go ahead and do the thing anyway, I realize the fear has no real power. It's just a very persistant little gremlin that wants tons of attention. And it's my choice to feed it or to point my attention elsewhere. On possibility, on what I want, on how to get my thing done. The power of attention is enormous. It absolutely magnetizes and energized whatever we point it at.

So that's my goal for the day. My mantra.
"I will focus my attention on what I wish to create"

What will I create in my wide open space?

Sunday, February 20, 2011

taking the plunge

OK, here it goes, my first blog. Until now, I have been too afraid to blog. Afraid of what? Offending someone, revealing my true self, not being perfect, showing that I'm really not the person that everyone thinks I am, saying something that pisses someone off. The list goes on. It is now undeniably clear to me that I have been paralyzed by this fear and a myriad of different fears my whole life. What has caused these fears? The answer to that involves lying on the couch and unloading my entire life - my childhood, family dynamics, relationship choices, career, demons, desires, and disasters. Therein lies the reason I want to blog. It's time to get over all this shit and move on. Time to steer my own life, time to really take the reigns and step up to be the person I know I can be. Time to stop letting others some silently, some not so silently, control me. Time to bust out of the apathy, depression, procrastination and self-doubt that follows from allowing yourself to be controlled by others without even really being cognizant of it. But I have to get over this stupid, annoying, persistent little gremlin called "fear" in order to do it so here it goes....

Today is Sunday. I love Sunday because it is the day that I've chosen to be the day that I get to do anything I want. Lay around in bed all day surfing the net, walk around the neighborhood and buy natural face creams, watch movies all day, drink copious amounts of white wine ( it's the only alcohol I drink) ...whatever. I also allow myself to break my usual Anna food plan which basically consists of LOTS of vegetables, a little fish, fruits, whole grains, and a few glasses of wine.

I basically eat what I call a Pescetarian Mediterranean diet. Which is essentially the Mediterranean diet with fish as the only animal protein consumed. I've flirted with vegan ism because I'm a huge animal advocate but I just didn't feel satisfied with all of the processed soy products and all of my reading suggests that wild fish is VERY good for we humans. And frankly, I just feel better when I have a little piece of fish with my vegetable smorgasbord, that's just me. I think we each have to find what works for our bodies but I believe in conscience eating. Being aware of where your food comes from and what it does to your body. I completely support those who are vegan and learned a great deal when I adopted the vegan diet for awhile. It forever changed my conscientiousness. Like I've really dialed back my consumption of dairy products...and other things. I also enjoy eggs occasionally. So I look for eggs by local farmers with happy chickens. I eat very little cheese ( and I try to find organic happy farm cheese). I look for wild fish not farm raised. I don't eat chicken, beef or pork ( oh the poor sweet little pigs). I cannot support the torture chambers that these poor animals have to live in so I take a strong stand on that front. And p.s. - the Mediterranean diet is excellent for our skin. All that olive oil, fresh veggies and fruit is a super skin nurturing formula. Just read "The Wrinkle Cure"

Anyway, on Sunday, I allow myself all the foods that I gently turn away from during the week. Cookies, french fries, potato chips, veggie pizza etc... I believe that it's important to always allow yourself a day to let the steam out and indulge. Knowing that I have Sunday makes it easier to abstain during the week. If I see that huge beautiful sugar cookie with white frosting sitting so pristinely in the coffee shop on a Tuesday I just say to myself, "I can have it on Sunday" This helps me not feel deprived. This method has been extremely successful in keeping myself very lean, healthy, and happy.

I am a yogi. Yoga is the only physical exercise I do ( besides performing on stage which is a whole other blog). I believe yoga is the perfect physical activity ( again another blog).

So, here I am lying in bed, my sweet is next to me. It's 1:00pm on Sunday. My laptop is on my lap, the television is on in the background. Channel surfing between "The Sopranos" , the news and the "Palladia" Channel ( tons of cool live concerts - great research for my singer/songwriter/performer self. ) Right now we've just landed on the "HDNet" channel because it's showing a James Taylor concert. My favorite kind of concert. Just him and a guitar, with a little accompanyment from a pianist on a baby grand piano. Absolutely lovely. And right in line with my duet - "DNA Sings"

So I think that's it for now. Thank you for being here and sharing in my "coming out" party. The "coming out of my Authentic Self." That is the journey I'm on. The quest for, exploration of, and celebration of my Authentic Self. It's a big step for me. And I want to change my life. Every bone in my body says this is the first step. Again thank you...