Changing Seasons...
Sunday, August 26, 2007 (2:17pm)
Changing Seasons...
It’s interesting as I get older, what memories pop up from time to time. One of my internet buddies mentioned getting to take a trip back east and having the opportunity to see the leaves change. Here on the west coast we only have two seasons... the brown season, and if there is any rain during the year... the green season. My roots are in rural Kentucky and West Virginia. I am actually much more comfortable in a rural setting where there are things like land and farm animals... and the incredible show of all the leaves changing color in the fall.
When I turned 21 I lived in a house with a bunch of women I played in a band with (yes it was very much like a sitcom) and I was working at a media/video production house. I was working 7 days a week and I was exhausted... and I was very much missing my roots... and seasons. I had such a strong desire to get away and go see the leaves change color back in West Virginia where the hillbilly side of the family lives. I mentioned that to one of my roommates. The leaves changing were always symbolic to me of a more peaceful time of my life and having time to stop and enjoy the world. It was also the whole thing of having real seasons... something bigger to mark the passage of time for me than deadlines.
My roommate told a bunch of my friends and somehow managed to scrape enough money together to get me a ticket and contacted my boss to make the arrangements to get me off at work. (which was my now husband Ken who had the hots for me even then... I also suspect that's where the bulk of the money for the plane ticket came from.)
Being back there for me was such a healing and restorative time in so many ways. The leaves were exceptionally beautiful that year and I was there right at the peak. It was the first time I had seen my relatives since my mother had died when I was 14... sort of a rite of passage into adulthood, coming to grips with my family and heritage. I took a bunch of pictures while I was back there... of the leaves and the landscape. One of the close ups of those leaves still hangs in my teaching studio. I'm sure the kids wonder why its there in the middle of all the music stuff. But it serves as a reminder that I have a God in my life that loves me enough to see the real needs and desires of my heart and acknowledges them and helps sustain me through the long periods where there are no times of rest in sight. The photo still always makes me smile... a great memory as a gift. It's always a reminder to me that God chooses to use people to be his heart and his hands, and that it's good for me to watch for those opportunities to be that for others too.
It's interesting to me that here I spend 12 to 15 hours a day working in my teaching room that is at the back of the house. There's a great view out of the back windows that span probably about 10 feet or so... all I can see is the slope of the hill and trees... the house behind us is about an acre away hidden behind the trees... and the next door neighbor has 3 huge aspen trees in his back yard. The only way I notice the passage of seasons is to watch them grow leaves, have them turn yellow and then drop off. There's not enough weather here to really have much of that, so it's a wonderful thing to behold. I really want to get a Japanese maple to have here too since they are one of the few trees around here that will have that kind of fiery red leaves in the fall.
In the midst of my crazy schedule I can look up at the leaves and see that memory of being outside in the vastness of a changing landscape, and almost breathe the fresh mountain air. Then I can keep putting one foot in front of the other to take care of the tasks at hand and steal those moments where I remember the beauty in nature, and in caring friends who are precious gifts themselves. On the front of my notebook I use to keep track of all my students in I have van gogh's starry night at the top with a quote I found on the internet that stuck with me...
"Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying... 'I will try again tomorrow.'" That could be my motto. No matter how busy I am or what else is going on, I want to really live and appreciate what I do have around me.
When Ken and I went to Balboa Park last time I specifically went to the artist's village. They have an artist there who does glass vases. Her stuff is in galleries all over the country. They are brightly colored and have designs like fields of flowers or sunflowers with a deep rich blue sky at the top. I decided I needed one of those as a modern day reminder that He's still sees what I need now too. A few of her vases now sit underneath the leaves picture where I can see it. I think in the midst of all the work and the business I'm learning to look for life and nourishment in the small nooks and crannies of my life... probably like the desert creatures who learn to find sustenance one drop at a time, and in unusual places most people wouldn't think to look. I keep finding it unexpectedly in emails or quick phone calls with friends, or a great quote that I had forgotten in one of my favorite books, or playing with the dogs and seeing how much they love even a few minutes of goofy play time. I get it from standing on the back porch and watching the wind blow the plants around. And I find it in all the memories of love and friendship and the beauty in my memories landscape that I will always carry with me.
Remembering...
It's amazing how interconnected we are sometimes. I'm never surprised but always amazed at all the bizaree and quirky friendships I have. Some have impacted me in such a lasting way that my life will never be the same anymore. My student and friend Annie was like that. I never met a kid that alive before. She was, and still is such a reminder to me of how much we need to live each moment. She was killed in an auto accident a few years ago. There's never a day that goes by though that I don't think about her and pray for her family. And partially because of her I keep going when I'm pooped out. Rock on Annie.
Important Note To Readers About Previous Posts...
Most of the posts that appear here before this one originally appeared in my myspace journal. What's missing here are all the wonderful comments that my quite diverse group of friends left for me... so in a sense these posts are only half here. They will give you a little taste of my wacky world. I realize many of my friends don't have any experience with MySpace. This is the kinder, gentler format. Feel free to hang out and comment. I'll try to be better about posting here too.
Fallin' Apart...
Fallin’ Apart... Current mood: thankful Category: Friends
Tuesday, August 14, 2007 (8:18am)
It began a bit early this year. It's a strange phenomena that happens every year, mainly in the spring when everything gets hot and humid, and in the fall when everything gets cool and damp. This year our weather has been so wacky that we had a mild spring version and now are going for the traditional hot and humid one now instead. This does not bode well for the cold and damp one. What is it? It's the time when a billion things start breaking down and suddenly have to be fixed /replaced / fought with. In the last two weeks Ken's car wouldn't start... after push starting the car, (for those of you who know big 6'4" Ken and his little autopia like convertible this should conjure up some interesting images) lots of fidgeting and a new battery later the car is running. Of course he had to fix the voltmeter that crapped out while he was testing the battery. I've had several guitars go south that have made their way to the repair store... then there was the new strings for the cello to the tune of $136... including tax... and the changing of the new strings for I don't know how much yet. One of the dogs tried to go through the screen door while it was closed, and after it was ripped decided it was a good time to just rip it enough to go through all the way... thus double french screen door repair. The exterior doors on the house decide to shift every season too and either won't open or won't close and lock so Ken's been busy with them too. Last night I had quite the time unclogging the toilet. I guess the annual fall $600 plumber bill is waiting for awhile. I've had sluggish electronic equipment in my teaching room. My computer is struggling to keep up with new versions of software. The cable box went out. Ken and my bodies have been on the fritz too... etc. etc. etc. You get the drift.
I think it's kind of funny that our things don't like change any more than we do sometimes. Too hot... too cold... too wet... too dry... or a few too many bumps along the road and our things grouse and complain and stop working just like we do. We live in a fallen world that isn't always kind to us or our appliances.
In the midst of all that I've been very aware that it's only stuff. It can be replaced or fixed or upgraded for the new model.
People are a different story. I'm always amazed at how truly small or world really is and how our lives as humans have profound effects on each other. We are in this together somehow. I've been reminded of this as I've been with several friends as they've wrestled with the loss of friends and loved ones. A few have been only long distance in prayer. One of my friends spent part of her week last week working on getting plane tickets for some of her worried and grief stricken friends who needed to get back to where the bridge collapse was because their daughter was lost in the wreckage. She was able to get them free and discounted tickets to make their trip and their time a little easier. We talked about the whys of such an event... why so many survived an even that could have had so many more people seriously hurt or killed... But there's the nagging question why... why the ones who did lose their lives... why that particular family who already has suffered so much with other life tragedies.
One of my other friends lives in Afghanistan. The Korean missionaries weren't just news stories to her. They were her fellow ministry partners. This last week the worshiped and had a last meal together with their friends... the other Korean missionaries there who are being told to leave the country immediately and return home to Korea.
Several of my other friends have seriously ill parents who are nearing the end of their lives. They are struggling with the emotions of seeing their parents that they love in the process of dying.
I think for me this week it was a reminder of what really is important... which are the people who populate our world. We really are connected together. I'm thankful to have traveling companions along the way. I was comforted these last few weeks just by the presence of my friends and my family. I was amused by sparring haiku created by creative online buddies. I enjoyed conversations with several friends who I've known for years... some since my youth even. We lived out our fiery younger days together, and now we are growing older and weathering the storms that go with that together too, thankful for our shared history that makes for fewer words, less need for explanations, and a shared lifetime of memories and hope. We've seen each other's struggles and have seen the good changes too. I appreciate them just that much more for knowing the toughness of their journey, and their progress along the way. I've enjoyed the company of some of my newer (and many times younger) friends who have generously invited my to be a part of their worlds. I love seeing the story unfolding in them too and look forward to having a ring side seat. I love their passion and their zeal for life that will continue to rock their worlds long after I've done my exit from this planet. I've talked to some older and wiser friends who are struggling with their bodies but who have a lifetime of passion and wisdom to share... and are gracious enough to do so. I am a blessed woman to have all these people just a phone call or email away. I am so thankful to be able to share the whole of my life... the good the bad and the ugly with people that I can love who love me. Batteries and audio equipment and strings can be replaced. People will last forever. Life is good.
Blog 3 Today... the Happy Blog
Saturday, August 04, 2007
Blog 3 Today... the happy blog Saturday, August 4, 2007 (2:02am)Current mood: sleepy Category: Life
Lest you all think I've been moping around this week, just dealing with abused kids, I am pleased to report that I've had a good time during this week off. I decided to avoid all things work related for the most part, except for banking and new student schmoozing. Ken's been doing a lot better now that they have his insulin adjusted and his blood sugar has stabilized. We had a nice day at Balboa Park. We some saw some great photo exhibits in the photography museum... including Ansel Adams, the famous nature photographer. His prints are always so amazing to look at... the images are stunning. We also went to the art museum and so several exhibits, including one featuring impressionists. They had several Monets. What amazing paintings. We hung out in the park and just had a great day together. It was nice having Ken there feeling more like his old self. I was reminded how much I love that creative part of him that loves that kind of stuff. We also wandered around in the artist's village down there that has working studios of tons of artists and photographers. I picked up some blown glass vases that I've been wanting for a long time. Before the traffic got so bad around here I used to love to go down there frequently. Every time we do go, I'm encouraged to be creative in the visual arts again.
We also went down to the harbor yesterday and enjoyed a great lunch and staring blankly at the boats etc for awhile.
I also got to see one of my dear friends who lives in New Jersey now. She's a wonderful reminder to me that sometimes being in stinky church situations are worth it because of the people you meet along the way.
For me it's been nice to be able to just sit and read and not have to be doing anything. I could use a few more weeks of the same thing. This is the first time in a long time where I had time off that was actually relaxing. Life is good.
Secret Scars...
Secret Scars... August 2007Current mood: thoughtful Category: Life
Tonight in thinking about the camp, I thought of this poem I wrote years ago that's a part of my own story... and the story of the kids this week...
SECRET SCARS
The secret scars upon the heart
are deeper than those by
lash and rod.
They bruise
and mar for them
the very face of God.
A hurtful thing is
innocence betrayed-
At the hand of someone older
but not wiser.
Ten thousand hurts were mine
during my "glorious days of youth".
Before I could understand.
Before I could stand against
the beatings.
And yet- I know the glory
of the wounded hands reaching
out to mine.
4/1/88 Friday, Late night.
Of Whom the World is Not Worthy... Part Two
Of Whom the World is Not Worthy... Part Two Saturday, August 4, 2007 (12:04am)Current mood: determined Category: Dreams and the Supernatural
This was written Friday afternoon at the camp...
It's quiet here in the amphitheater now. The stage is empty. The construction themed camp decorations have been removed. The debris of 98 campers and 90 something counselors and staff has been swept up and thrown away. The campers and the rest of the adults are down in the dining hall eating a last meal together before the busses arrive to take the kids back to their "normal" life. If you could call living in foster care normal. To protect the children and their privacy, no photography is allowed during the camp. Each year though their faces are burned into my mind. They are so young to have seen so much. Looking at them, I can't even fathom someone deliberately hurting any of them. They are such a diverse bunch. Some of them are quiet and reserved, but very tender hearted. Some are incredibly talented in art or music. Some of them are athletic. Some love being with the animals. Some of them are incredibly outgoing and want to be the center of attention. But they had a few things in common. They were great at encouraging each other. Whenever anyone did anything in front of the group, everyone clapped for them. They were genuinely kind to each other most of the time too.
Every year they have a graduation ceremony, honoring the kids that would be too old to come to the camp any more. Some of them had come every year they were eligible. Each of them came forward with their counselors, who spoke, telling them what they appreciated about them, and encouraging them to remember the truths they learned at the camp. Every year that is the time that breaks my heart. Due to the nature of the foster care system, once the kids leave the camp they are not supposed to have contact with any of the adults, including their counselors. It was so hard watching the kids, especially the graduating ones, struggling emotionally with the loss of something that had been precious to them. A couple of the girls especially were really struggling. I watched them clinging to their counselors and the other adults they were close to, like they were holding on to a life raft. Even a few of the boys, who were trying to be so tough, openly wept standing in front of everyone for the last time.
I realized this year while I was watching it all, in a deeper way, why this always effects me so profoundly. When I was 12, their same age, I was trapped in the middle of my own cycle of abuse. It was such a tough age. For me, my mother's mental illness was reaching it's peak. There was no camp for me. There was no rescue. But like those kids, that was the time when I first really came into contact with a loving God, who met me in the midst of the abuse and the pain. It was the beginning of hope for me that still continues to this day. And, these days, where life is hard for other reasons, and I find myself weary, spending some time each year with the kids, and at the camp, where I can breathe in and just rest, does me a world of good. I am thankful. It's my prayer that those kids will be able to leave the camp knowing that they are loved, that they are amazing, and that there is a "hope and a future" for them too.
Of Whom the World Is Not Worthy... part one
Monday, July 30, 2007
of whom the world is not worthy... part 1 Current mood: thankful Category: Goals, Plans, Hopes
Christians get a lot of bad press. There are the sex scandals. There are plenty of people protesting others in a rude and hateful ways. There's the rampant financial waste on huge structures and mindless religious busy work. But there's also the other side of the picture. Not all Christians are hate filled, deviant, money mongers. There are always those who get it and go about their business living the real gospel. The bible says that real religion is to take care of the widows and orphans and strangers in the land.
Every year, all over the country, an organization called Royal Family Kids Camp organizes a series of camps for abused/abandoned kids, most of whom are in the foster care system. Different churches have the opportunity of putting on a camp, and raising the money needed to get the kids there, and providing the volunteers to staff the camp. Every year, one of my good friends churches does one of these camps, and they are gracious enough to let me join them. It's one of my favorite things to do. At their particular camp, which meets at a camp less than three miles from my home, they have around 100 campers a year, with about as many counselors and support staff. Each counselor has 2 campers. Some of the kids come back every year until they reach the upper age limit with 12 being the oldest.
It is so amazing to see the kids, who have lived through enough hellish experiences to end up removed from their families, have a chance to be just like other kids and have a great experience. I'm amazed to watch some of them blossom from year to year. They go away from the camp knowing that they are loved and cared for, by the people there, and by God.
It's not an easy job for the volunteers. Some of the campers have some serious emotional and behavioral issues. But if you ask them they'll be happy to tell you that it's more than worth it to them, and that they love it. I want to salute the people involved in the camp this week, and the countless others who decide that it's worth it to really live the gospel instead of just talking about it. I am so thankful to have the yearly reminder of what is really important to God's heart. May we all look for opportunities to make a difference in the world we share.
The First Church of Chuck E. Cheese...
Sunday, June 17, 2007 (1:20 am)
The First Church Of Chuck E. Cheese Current mood: contemplative Category: Religion and Philosophy
Yesterday I met one of my friends at Chuck E. Cheese. For the uninitiated, this is a pizza parlor/video game/play area designed to overstimulate anyone who walks through the door in less than 30 seconds... Not to mention the huge furry rodent mascot walking around like Micky Mouse at Disneyland. It would not be our normal hangout. We normally meet at a great Thai place. But she has 3 young sons, and since her ex-husband moved out of the area, we haven't been able to work out the logistics of an adult only visit. I thought the kids might enjoy a chance to pig out on pizza and play games till their eyes glazed over. They did seem to have fun. They would come running over occasionally with a handful of tickets they won on one game or another.
In the mean time their mom and I talked about life, love, suffering, weird experiences we've had lately, growing relationships, and our current need to deal with the hurt from our past. We also talked about connecting with God, the state of the church in America, being reminded about what was important through unexpected circumstances. She had just received a study bible in the mail that her ex had left behind with a bunch of her other stuff, when they had to move. It contained her study notes from her time in Bible school. The person who had it found her parents address inside it and sent it back years later. It was very timely for her to get it back in this season of her life. We also talked about the qualities in a pastor that are wonderful when they have them. She made a great point about being in a few churches when she was young were she had a sense that the pastor really cared for the congregation and took his time preparing to speak to the congregation seriously... and he cared for the people in his care. In our modern Christian subculture of hipness and humongous religious machines, I think we've lost that sense of family and connectedness. We looked at some books I just picked up for a lending library, and picked out a couple for her to take home and enjoy. Four hours later, the kids had finally glazed over, their game tokens were gone and it was time to cash in their winning tickets for giant bugs and tootsie rolls and get going. I left feeling like we had our very own church service. We were the body of Christ.
I spent a lot of years working in churches and was amazed at how we kept getting caught up in a bunch of useless religious activity which took up precious time and resources and drained any energy that we could have used to make a real difference in each other's lives and in the community. That could be ranting for a whole different blog. But as I've been growing older I realize that we ARE the church. The big machine might not ever get it. (Although I will continue to be a painful thorn in the side of the machine.) But my life can make a difference to the people I encounter. And their lives can also help transform mine. The church might overlook the single mom... but I have a choice that I can make. In the long run, I want my friends kids to know that there are people who love Jesus who also love them, and who love their mommy and who are committed to walking through the world with her. In that journey I'm happy to worship with her at the first church of Chuck E. Cheese.
To Write Love On Her Arms...
Friday, June 08, 2007
To Write Love On Her Arms... Current mood: thoughtful Category: Life
Some of you may have noticed that among my friends I have a couple of groups you might want to know about. One of them is the self injury help page... and the other is an organization called "To Write Love On Her Arms." Both are groups who are trying to reach out to kids who might be sucidal, depressed or involved with cutting or other forms of self injury. All this is much more common today than I think most people think. The Goo Goo dolls had a song a few years ago that talked about "you bleed just to know you're alive."
When I was in my childhood and teens, I grew up in a very unhealthy abusive environment. To say I was wounded and traumatized by it all was an understatement. I have damage in both of my wrists from punching walls at times of utter desperation and rage. I always tell the students I teach now that's a really bad idea when it comes to using your hands to play an instrument.
I am very aware when I use my hands to play music or write or some of the other things that I do, that it's much better for me to use them for something that brings about beauty and healing for others. I am also aware of what a miracle it is that I literally lived through that, and that my hands, or the rest of me for that matter are functioning.
A few weeks ago in the midst of the worst of the medical stuff with Ken and the other stress and emotional pain I was experiencing I just snapped and slammed my fists repeatedly into one of the doors. It took several days to recover from that. I could have seriously injured myself at that point. It has been a long time since I did anything like that. It was a good reminder that sometimes pain and my own humanity can be overwhelming, and that I still need to deal with it in a different healthy way.
I am thankful that I have friends who love me and who can be a help and a comfort in times like that. It was also a reminder to be aware of the pain that some of my younger students feel. I've included a link to a video here that was inspired by "To Write Love On Her Arms." For anyone who spends time with kids, learn to look for the warning signs. Love them and encourage them to get the help they need. It was a good thing for this band to be willing to record this song and to offer a different perspective. I wish there was someone in my life when I was young who could have helped me. For anyone who struggles with this feel free to message me. There is so much hope even if you don't feel it right now.
The link to the video is below. It is a great music video. I would warn you it is pretty graphic in it's content though, but very moving.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cTdjCsZoW_0
In Memorial...
Monday, May 28, 2007
In Memorial... Current mood: touched Category: Life
My father was career Navy. During my early childhood we lived in Rhode Island, Florida and South Carolina before we moved to California and he got out of the service. My early childhood was punctuated with him being gone for long periods of time out on the ship. As a matter of fact, he was in the middle east when I was born. It was always hard to drop him off at the Naval Base. My mother never did well either with his absences. He lived through World War II. He had mementos from all his other trips around the house... an Irish shallaie. Vases from Italy and Greece. But the things from the war he had stashed away out of sight... a Japanese rifle with bayonet and photo albums I didn't see till I was much older filled with pictures of him as a younger men with his buddies from the boat, and darker images of devastation and death. It wasn't till we were both much older and his life had changed drastically until he would talk about it. I could tell there was so much pain there that he carried inside. He was just 18 when he joined the Navy... a fresh faced farm boy. He soon saw the world, became a man, and had something inside of him die. I think it's the story of his generation. They had a job to do and they did it. There was a need and they stepped up to the challenge.... and they suffered in silence when they came home. One of the casualties of war in my father's life was his relationship with God. He said he just saw too much.
Later in his life he almost died in his 50's. He felt like he had a second chance on life and he came to grips with some of that pain and began to talk about it. He also got back on speaking terms with the God of his childhood. In the process the hatred he felt towards the Japanese and other people who were different than him was dissipated too. It was amazing to watch his life come full circle. I was proud of him for who he was and how he lived his life.
When he died, I contacted the powers that be to have a military honor guard for his funeral. I found out that so many World War II vets were dying that they didn't have enough honor guards to do all of their funerals. They suggested that I contact the Veterans instead. They came to do my father's funeral. I managed to hold it together for the whole service until we were at the graveside and these Veterans were doing their part. Here were men my father's age who lived through what he did. They were there to remember out of respect for his memory and the memory of all their friends they lost. They carefully folded the flag from his casket and handed it to me so gently and so lovingly and I just broke down at the thought of what these men, and my father had lived through, and their willingness to protect us... and the sacrifices they made.
Today I'm also thinking about my friend Lisa. She was young and in love. She was scheduled to get married when her fiancee got back from Iraq. She was pregnant with their first baby... a little girl. I saw the ultrasounds. Less than a month before the birth of her baby she got word that he was killed while he was out on patrol and they were ambushed. She had to deliver her baby while she was grieving the loss of the man that she loved. Her little girl is the spitting image of her father. When Katrina hit, she went back to New Orleans to help. She said she knew what it was like to lose everything and need a helping hand. She's doing everything she can to keep his memory alive for her little girl. She's my hero. And so was he. He was a man doing his job. It's my hope and prayer that not many more of our men and women will have to give their lives in this horrible war.
The Sisters Are Doin' It For Themselves...
Thursday, May 24, 2007
The Sisters Are Doing It For Themselves...
Current mood: thankful Category: Music
Way back when I started playing guitar (when dinosaurs roamed the earth) there were very few good visible women guitarists, or musicians at all for that matter... at least when it came to rock music. There were a few... Joni Mitchell certainly was amazing. There were some singers. But I hardly ever saw a woman with an electric guitar. And I wanted to rock. I started playing bass and electric guitar in bands. I mainly ended up with guys who were several years older than me with years of experience. Finally Ann and Nancy Wilson of Heart showed up... Suddenly there were these women who could ROCK. The were doing Zeppelin covers even and pulling them off. People didn't know what to do with them. I needed to see that. I had no other female friends who played. I was fortunate to have some great guys to play with who thought it was cool that I was a girl and I could play. I had plenty of guys around who didn't though. Plenty who wouldn't take me seriously. My own parents wouldn't give me lessons or let me play the drums when I was young "because I was a girl." I can remember one of the first times I did a gig in high school playing with some college aged guys... we went up on the stage... we were playing hard core rock... and when I went to pick up the bass to put it on people actually laughed... they thought I was kidding and making a joke. The laugh was on them. Then... and now I always have the element of surprise.
I wish I could say that things were very different now and that we live in a more "enlightened" times where there is not that kind of discrimination against the concept of good female musicians. But I still see it every day when I'm teaching. I think that this generation is not as hung up on gender roles and that they are more likely to accept the fact that females could be good musicians. But my male students still don't want to play with the females. Frankly it pisses me off. And I try to combat it as much as possible. But I see my female student's frustration. They want to play with other people. But I'm on a mission now. I want to make sure that they ROCK. I want them to excel. I want them to be able to hold their own with the guys and command respect because they are great players. And I want them to know about the women who've gone before them to pave the way... There are so many. Just like I try to expose them to all kinds of music, I want them to know that there are some great players in all different kinds of music that they can look to as incredible role models. I want them to know about Bonnie Riatt and Rory Block... and their ability to rip your heart out with their amazing voices and blues licks, and Ann and Nancy Wilson and their ballsey rock n' roll. I want them to know about the great singer/songwriters like Shawn Colvin and Patty Griffin and Patty Larkin. I want them to hear the different musical visions of Kaki King and Ani DiFranco. I want them to hear some of the great female country artists who have been owning the stage for decades now. And I want them to have the chance to see women like Vicki Randle, the amazing singer and multi-instrumentalist who they can see every week night playing in the band on the Tonight Show with Jay Leno. These women have helped pave the way for the next generation to step up and bring it. These women have inspired me to play on, regardless of what anyone ... male or female thought about me playing. I'm hoping that I can help raise up a tribe of female musicians, young and old, who can play the music in their souls. And I am thankful for each one of them. They inspire me. I'm also thankful for the male musicians in my life who saw me as a musician first and were willing to put aside gender bias and let me be a part of their lives.
No Rest Of The Weary...
Monday, May 07, 2007
No Rest For The Weary... Current mood: exhausted Category: Life
I had last week off. I started it exhausted and was looking forward to some much needed R & R. Unfortunately, Ken had some major health issues that made it the most stressful week for me in 10 years... and that's saying something. I'm facing going back to work today completely physically and emotionally depleted. Sometimes life is just hard. Most of the week I would have rather had someone poke me repeatedly in the eye with a sharp stick than deal with the stuff I was having to deal with. And of course in the middle of it there are always people who think by saying the magic words, or praying the magic prayer, or being stronger, or dancing naked in the moonlight, or whatever, that someone will sprinkle pixy dust and everything will be wonderful. My theory is that those people are clueless. 
There were some high spots though. I had pig therapy one day. One of my friends brought their miniature baby pot bellied pig over for a visit. That was a wonderfully bizarre diversion. The little guy didn't even look real but was very friendly and fun to play with. 
Several of my friends drug me out for a much needed break and meal. It's amazing how good just plain old human contact can be. No one could fix what was going on last week, but their companionship along the journey was greatly appreciated. I also managed to get the beginnings of a great books lending library set up, which made me very happy. And somehow, I had some great divine appointments too. I finally got about a half hours rest and relaxation Sunday afternoon.
I sat down to plan my teaching for today and I am at a complete loss. I'm glad I love teaching and I love the interaction with my students. Hopefully they will help jump start me. Sometimes having a successful week is just staying alive and moving on. Here's to a better week.
Sharply Focused Acts of Kindness...
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Sharply Focused Acts of Kindness... or, Way tooooooo long with no blogity blog Current mood: thankful
This has been a busy wacky year so far. Too long has gone by since my last real blog entry at the beginning of the year. I have been thinking about a lot of things to blog about, but several of them will require some actual thought on my part. Hopefully I will be able to sit down and write about them soon. I began the blog that follows a few days after Valentine's day, and finished it tonight. I've been contemplating just how important it is for us as humans to be connected to each other. I'd love to hear your comments on the subject.
Sharply focused acts of kindness...
These days months, sometimes years rush by. Life for me is a blur of teaching... working from early morning to late at night... to make enough money, mainly to pay for medical care. Sometimes the process is kind of demoralizing and draining. Its certainly not what I had envisioned for this season of my life. I mark the changes in the seasons by watching the leaves on the huge aspen tree next door change color, fall off and grow in again. I have weeks where I never make it to the back yard even from Mon. to Thurs.
I love teaching. I love my students. I'm just weary from too too many hours. But sometimes in the midst of my wacky week, students will do something for me that reminds me again that I'm human, and cared for. One family of students brings great smoothies with them for me sometimes. Another brings my favorite coffee drink from Starbuck's.
One student has surprised me many times with things that make me stop and wonder at how much she's really paying attention to me and my life, not just as an extension of my guitar. I know she has no idea just how much of an impact she has on me on a regular basis. A while ago she mentioned that she and her husband were going up to Julian to get away. We were talking about how beautiful it is there and how Ken and I enjoy the apple cider and pies that come from there. A few days later there was a knock on the door. They were on their way home and they dropped off a pie and some cider. I scored! It was totally unexpected and a wonderful surprise. At Christmas time she gave me a gift certificate for Costco, which was perfect for me since I get work related things there all the time... not to mention all sorts of nifty stuff that lives there. Recently we just had Valentine's day. She surprised me with a great rock n' roll based card with a gift certificate from one of my favorite restaurant. She had noticed a menu on the fridge, and thought I might enjoy that. I think what touched me the most was that she took the time to notice. She went out of her way to notice. It was an act of premeditated, sharply focused kindness. It was good for my heart. It was even better for my soul. It was a reminder that my life matters to other human beings. I think we all need that. We all have the opportunity to do the same for each other. For me, it wasn't the gifts, it was the thoughtful human contact... a reminder that I'm not alone as I power through my days... that other people are thinking about me... and praying for me... and caring for me... even when we can't spend a bunch of time together face to face. That a wonderful thing about myspace too. We have the ability to just drop by and say hi.
So to any of you who are reading this; I want you to know that I appreciate having you as a part of my life. Thank you for your kindness and for caring for me.
Only As Good As Your Last Exploit...
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
You're Only As Good As Your Last Exploit...
I've had quite the wacky life overall. It could be described a lot of ways, but boring isn't one of them. I've had a lot of different careers and a lot of weird experiences over the years. I've met quite the cast of characters along the way. I certainly have enough material for a book, but if I published it as non fiction, a lot of people wouldn't believe part of it.
In that way I feel blessed. Through everything... the highs and the lows I've had the chance to really live and to live three lifetimes worth already. This year I'll celebrate my 49th birthday. My mother died in her 49th year. From the time she died I always wondered if I would make it longer than her. The truth is that in some ways I'm just getting started. There's so much more I want to learn... so much I want to get better at... and so many things yet to experience. So, whether it's here for years to come or the ultimate adventure, I want to make the most of it and live with passion. I don't want to drift though life. And, no matter what my circumstances and what I have to do to make enough money to pay the bills, I don't want that to be the beginning and ending of my life.
For some reason, throughout my life, there has been this oral tradition of stories about me passed around from my friends. A lot of times when I meet people they will start with... "So you're Linda B." and go on to mention some weird story about my life. Over the decades the stories change. It used to be unnerving but eventually I realized that it was cool that part of my life had made enough of an impact, good, bad or wacky, for them to remember it.
I remember on new years eve in 1999 when I was contemplating the new century, I thought, "gee things have to be better than this next year." It turned out to be one of the hardest years ever, and the beginning of a whole tough decade for me. But in the middle of it all I refuse to sit down by the side of the road and watch my life go by. It's time for new exploits. And I want you guys who are reading this to join me. I want for us to learn how to love each other more and truly care for each other. I want for us to learn how to care for the people who populate our world and our personal phone book.
And this year I have a special specific goal. I want to be a light and an encouragement to the generations that will follow in my generations footsteps and who can make a difference in their worlds. I want them to know how important they are. How precious they are to God. I want to invest in their lives and I want to challenge you who are my age and reading this to do the same.
So, bring it on... bring on 07 with it's joys and challenges. Bring on the new relationships. Bring on the deepening relationships. Bring on new exploits.
To my younger friends... tell your friends who want to write me on myspace and become my friend there. Tell them to message me and tell me about their lives. You guys continue to challenge me to live my life with Jesus honestly and passionately before you too. Let's keep the dialog going this year. Let's hash through the stuff we are struggling with. Let's end '07 with some great new stories to tell.
Taking Stock...
Monday, November 06, 2006
Thankful... Current mood: thankful
This time of year I always try to take stock of my life and remember just what it is I have to be thankful for. Most of the time these days it's not too hard. Sometimes, like this last week, I get overwhelmed and it gets lost in the shuffle.
Sometime in the early 80's I spent several year with insomnia and some serious health stuff. Along the way I turned into a glass half empty girl for awhile. One day my astute, and mostly longsuffering husband said... "do you realize you just complained about the same thing 12 times today... I've been keeping track." After getting over being annoyed at him for a) keeping track, and b) sharing that information with me, I stopped to think about it. I had been so overwhelmed with the tyranny of the urgent and the health stuff, that I had lost sight of all the good things in my life. I decided it was time for some serious attitude adjustment, so I decided to start by journaling not just the bad stuff going on, but in making lists of things I had to be thankful for. They were pretty funny at first. I managed to put a negative spin even on thankfulness... I'm thankful that I'm not dead... I think. I'm thankful that I'm only miserable and don't have a deadly disease... yet that I know of... etc... Slowly but surely though practicing thankfulness as a lifestyle became easier. It also made the hard times easier when I stopped to realize how much go there was mixed in with it.
This week more than a few things came to mind to be thankful for.. these a just a few...
That I was born in a place where I've been able to live and thrive without having to struggle to find enough food or shelter, or struggle against the elements. We live in one of the most beautiful places in the world with an amazing climate.
I'm thankful that somehow, no matter what, we always manage to make ends meet and have some left to share with others.
That I am truly blessed to be able to do something I love for a living, have my own business, set my own schedule, and be able to work at home without having to commute anywhere. I have the opportunity to be a part of my student's lives and my own life is much much richer for it. Somehow a steady stream of students always end up at my door.
I'm thankful to have an incredibly diverse group of people in my life on a regular basis. I have great friends, including some I've known for 35 years. They stimulate my heart, my soul, and my mind, they stir up my creativity. They remind me of what's important in life. Many have become the family that I never knew. And some have modeled for me what it looks and feels like to be loved and cared for by God.
I'm thankful for the creative process and all that goes into it. I'm still amazed and how full of color and texture our world is. I'm thankful that someone figured out I couldn't see so I could get glasses and begin to really see things without them just being a big blur. I'm thankful that I can pick up a variety of instruments and be able to express some things that I just can't adequately communicate with words. Someone said "he who plays, prays twice." That is very true to me.
I'm thankful for life itself. There were times when I could have easily died due to illness, or dangerous circumstances, or early on, at my own hand. I am so thankful that I've had that time... I've met the people I've known since then and had all the experiences I would have missed out on. I've lived 3 lifetimes already and have been had so many amazingly diverse experiences along the way.
I'm thankful for the healing and restoration that I know could only come from God. When I was young I was so angry and bitter and self destructive. I have damage in both wrists from pummeling walls and things like that. It was nothing for me to be enraged or to carve on myself. Now every time I use my hands to play an instrument, or to type something, or to do massage, or any of the other creative pursuits I have, I am reminded of what a miracle that is. And even though I have a long way to go, I am so thankful that I'm so much more whole emotionally too. I can look someone in the eye and have a genuine conversation with them, even knowing the risk that I could be wounded. I can cry or laugh and express emotion freely. I can have someone touch me without jumping out of my skin. I can care deeply for someone. I'm thankful that my journey has been encouraging to others and a reminder that there's hope for them too.
And on a personal note... if you care enough about me to be reading this... I am thankful for you too.
Hopeful Grousing....
November 2006It is now 4:01 in the morning. I had this week "off" from teaching. I was looking forward to having a productive week learning some new recording software and getting other work related things done. But, once again the software update didn't arrive for the umpteenth time. I spent the beginning of the week with my back out, being exhausted and feeling generally horrible. I spent the middle of the week dealing with Ken and I both feeling bad, and trying to push through anyway to get stuff done. I spent the end of the week saddened by the fact that I bothered to try to get work done at all and wishing that I could have just said "forget it" and just taken the time OFF to rest and unwind.
Normally I try to be a "glass half full" kind of girl, but today I was just sad. I tried to shift gears and get other work done... cds downloaded into Itunes... songs entered into the computer and transposed, etc... but at each step I had computer problems. I think I'm just bone tired... I'm weary. I think I normally have a pretty productive life considering... I run my own business... work 50 to 60 hours a week... try to spend time with my husband and the dogs... try to be creative on the side and also invest in the lives of the people around me. All those things I enjoy most of the time.
I think what I miss in my heart of hearts is being able to just sit and stare at the ocean and read a book. Deep inside of me I just wish there was someone who would say "I'll take care of you." I know from talking to my friends that is an ache that many of us share... sort of an ancient cry from our childhood where we missed that from our parents. Tomorrow is the anniversary of my mother's death at the ripe old age of 49. I was barely 14 and I've been taking care of myself since I was 11 really. I know some of you reading this can relate. Until this moment, I didn't really think about how that all plays into my grief. As John Hiatt says in his great song "Thirty Years Of Tears," "these are tears from a long time ago.
No one held a gun to my head this week and told me I had to work instead of taking a vacation week. That was my own poor choice. Next time I need to turn my brain off, and just go play. I also need to remember that even in the midst of everything this week, Ken and I were able to cook and freeze a bunch of great, healthy meals that we'll have in the upcoming weeks when we are busy. I also got to see several of my friends I really enjoy, and will see several others this weekend and have a chance to be creative and work on music. And, having something that resembled intestinal flu part of the week gave me plenty of time for some reading I wouldn't have normally gotten to. Being awake at night gave me time to play the guitar. Ok, so the glass is a quarter full. Time to quit whining and try to get some sleep.
For those who are interested... This is a great song by John Haitt. It resonates with me a lot.
THIRTY YEARS OF TEARS by John Hiatt...
Is this a place I can rest my poor headTo gather my thoughts in sweet silenceIs this a place where the feelings aren't deadFrom an overexposure to violenceAnd is this a place I can slowly faceThe only one I truly can know These are tears from a long time agoI got these tears from a long time agoI need to cry 30 years or soThese are tears from a long time ago Oh Darling, oh darling, say unto meWhere have you been all my lifetimeWell I have been swimmin' the seven sad seasFair women have thrown me their lifelinesAnd I just pulled them on to the water's dark grinI'd have warned 'em but I didn't know These are tears from a long time agoI've got these tears from a long time agoI need to cry 30 years or soThese are tears from a long time ago Well, I've cried me a river, I've cried me a lakeI've cried till the past nearly drowned meTears for sad consequencesTears for mistakesBut never these tears that surround me Alone in this place with a lifetime to traceAnd a heartbeat that tells me it's soI've got these tears from a long time agoThese are tears from a long time agoAnd I need to cry 30 years or soThese are tears from a long time agoThese are tears from a long time agoI've got these tears from a long time ago
A Quirky Survey
October 2006Here's an odd survey for those who complain about the same 'ol...
So far who did you talk to the most today?
ARRG... no talking... just woke up... leave me alone!
What is the best name for a butler?
Eggburt or Herbert Snorkblat
What is the thing you are picked on most about?
The piles of stuff around... hey I know where stuff is most of the time.
What was your last weird encounter?
Most of my encounters are weird because I am. It's the encounters with really "normal" people that are strange to me.
What's the weirdest story of one of your scars?
I have an L shaped on my arm next to my elbow because I was riding my bike with no hands as a kid and ran into the back of a parked car... my mom wouldn't let me in because she didn't want me "bleeding all over the house."
Do you remember the part from Bambi when Bambi learns to say bear?
Bambi... all I can remember about that movie was my friends 3 year old watching it and running in to his mom yelling "deer fall down... deer fall down." I don't like that movie.
What color is your toothbrush? Blue and white
What is your middle name spelled backwards? Nollid
Can you eat well with chopsticks?
I'm WAY too uncoordinated.
What odd things creep you out? Clowns... and decorated urinals at women's events.
Have you ever felt an earthquake? You bet... rock and roll!
What do you do with the hot grease when you're done cooking bacon?
I use it so infrequently that I buy microwave bacon. it's all contained in a cooking bag and just goes in the trash.
How many good friends do you have? About 20
But I do know half of the people in the known universe
What's the weirdest thing you have ever eaten?
I like a wide variety of foods and have eaten some pretty weird combos, but I can't think of anything particularly weird since I've been an adult.
What color are your socks today?
Socks Schmocks... shoes schmoose.
What is your favorite word that starts with the letter G? Gibson
(as in guitars)
Who do you blame for your mood today?
The sleep fairy who forgot to sprinkle pixy dust on me so I could go to sleep before 4 this morning.
If Ricky Martin had a trademark what would it be?
No one with a song as bad as She bangs even exists in my musical universe.
What is something scientists need to invent?
the perfect PMS food that would include chocolate, something salty and red meat.
What is the closest object to your left foot?
A giant begging drooling dog.
Who is your favorite Golden Girl?
Betty White... not for that show though but for her role in the horror/comedy flick "Lake Placid" where she was feeding cows to the killer crocodile.
Do you have an inside joke that has to do with numbers?
Nah not numbers... now if it involved poultry... that would be another story.
What is the longest amount of hours you have slept in a row?
About 22 when I was suffering from extreme exhaustion working on a media project when I was in my 20s. The family that let me come stay with them and sleep might well have saved my life.
What story do you tell most often?
who cares about often? My favorite story to tell was about playing at a women's event with way over the top decorations and a severe case of being clueless about what was really important.
How do Ugly people make you feel?
Physical ugliness doesn't bother me at all. Emotional ugliness which I would equate with being abusive I won't tolerate.
Where was your mother's hometown? A wee little place in West Virginia
Where was your father's hometown? A wee little place in Kentucky
What are the posters on your walls?
I just got to Shawn Colvin posters to put up but most of the stuff on my walls is art or signs... including some Fender signs and one that says Noise or music audible more than 50 feet prohibited. I also have a weird ugly painting of a woman playing guitar, a cool pen and ink one of my amazing Jewish artist friends did of God creating man, and a bunch of Ken and my photos on the wall.
Say two words that rhyme.
Slime Thyme
Do you use online terms in real life? Not if I can help it.
What do you think people think of you? Quirky, quirky quirky caring, creative.
Do you think this year will be better than the last?
We could sure hope so.
Who is the 1st person on your incoming call list and how do you feel about them?
Nancy W. She's a great friend and a great creative collaborator. I love who she is and her willingness to keep wrestling with some of the hard issues we face in our world that a lot of people just want to ignore or avoid.
Do you know who Salad Fingers Is? Whoever that was who lost a finger at the Subway the other day?
What is the stupidest thing you have ever done? Loaned instruments to people who just lost them, had them stolen or just gave them away to someone else.
What is your favorite commercial of the moment?
The Geico commercials with the announcer or peter graves interpreting what the customer is saying.
What does it take to make you cry? Missing someone... these days especially a few people who've died, or who have changed so much that I miss the old them.
What are you looking forward to?
Having a week off in a week, hopefully without being sick or anyone dying.
Have you ever cried because you thought you were ugly?
Yep plenty of times.
Who did you kiss today? No one yet... aaarggg stay away from me... I just woke up... danger will robinson! Can you tell I'm not a morning person?
What do you like to do when you are alone?
Play my guitar, read, write something, pray, take pictures, go for a drive with good music playing.
Who are your 2 favorite characters on Full House?
What a horrible horrible show!
What is missing from your life?
Time when I'm not working. A chance to really rest. A second income.
Would you be ashamed if you wore hippie clothes?
Nope... I probably still have some in my closet. Hey what goes around comes around.
Grab the closest book, what does the 7th sentence on the 23rd page.
Nothing in english... it's a cool rhythm part from blues song called "Born With A Broken Heart" from "The Blues Guitar Bible."
If it was your last day on earth what shoes would you wear?
Comfy running shoes.
Do you own a Super Nintendo? Nope PS2 which is currently being monopolized by the new Legos Star Wars 2 game. It's true we have no kids. It's true we play video games. It's nice to be able to beat stuff up.
What do you think of Law and Order? I like it but have 75 different offshoots is a little much. SVU is a little close to home sometimes for me.
Can you name all 7 dwarfs? I could… what's in it for me. I like the 7 PMS dwarfs better.
Who is the hottest drummer you know? Kenny Arnoff... hands down... no question. I want to be him when I grow up.
Have you ever pretended to be Jewish? No.
What was the last thing you thought you lost, but then you found it?
Keys... and songbooks... it's always the keys or the songbooks.
What were you doing at midnight last night?
Typing new song sheets into the computer and listening to Molly Jenson on Itunes.
If you had a ball of clay what would you mold it into?
A guitar playing guy... abstract.
What does your Milkshake bring to the yard? Ugly lactose intolerant things.
Do you have any famous relatives? Nope
Voting Why Bother???
Friday, October 20, 2006 (2:05am)
Why I'm Going To Vote Even Though Everything In Me Screams Why Bother...
One of my friends and I have been having an ongoing discussion lately about how frustrated we are with the current condition of the government. (See also my blog entry Jesus Was NOT A Republican) I've always had this hope that one day I would be able to go to the polls and feel like I was actually happy to vote for a candidate. Now that I'm older and wiser I realize that most politicians are not to be trusted, regardless of party.
I've been so aggravated by it all that for the first time in years I didn't vote in the primary this time. I was one step away from "why bother" for the election in November until I really started looking at the all the other things on the ballot this time. The crooked politicians we will have with us always. And even though I normally vote pretty conservatively politician wise there are some "conservatives" I could never vote for. For example, I personally would rather vote for Satan himself than to vote for Darrell Issa. The problem with working in media is that I've seen too much of the dark underbelly of way too many organizations.
It's interesting to me that some of the propositions that I actually care about have been buried in all the hoopla about certain other propositions. For example:
Prop 90 A proposition that would bar state/local governments from condemning or damaging private property to promote other private projects. It personally makes me very angry that in our country governments can decide to swipe my property under the imminent domain laws, not to make way for a school or road or something, but to give to a developer to put something "more profitable" for the city on it. I don't want to be 80 years old and having to "relocate" because someone wants to build high density housing here. That alone is worth me going to the polls for.
Prop 85 Waiting period and parental notification before termination of minor's pregnancy. I certainly might be wrong but I think regardless of which side of the abortion issue you fall on, minor's shouldn't be able to make such a major medical life decision without parental input. Kid's can't get an aspirin without parent's permission at school. I know from experience with a bunch of people that the decision to have an abortion can leave the person with some intense emotional issues to deal with, as well as physical ones. That's a lot for a minor to deal with alone. I say this even having grown up in a home where it was better for me to not deal with my parents with anything and where home was a dangerous place. I need to get more info on the proposition, but this is certainly one that I shouldn't ignore.
Prop. 83 Increases penalties for violent and habitual sex offenders and child molesters. Prohibits residence near schools and parks etc... Again an issue that can't be ignored. There needs to be more protection for the kids. The down side is that it tends to go probably too far. After running abuse recovery support groups, and also having do deal with abusers, I know so many people who will be impacted on both sides. I know a few convicted abusers who have turned their lives around who would be forced to move their residence and their business if this passes. But I also know a lot of people who will be able to rest a little easier and a lot of jerks who might just think twice before acting on their baser instincts.
Then there are those other pesky propositions that sound like good ideas but are so bogged down in pork or stupidity that they would be useless and it would be better to go back to the drawing board to come up with another plan. There are also the one's who would help to drive our taxes even higher.
Sure the propositions are a lot like the politicians... stinky and imperfect... but worth the attention nonetheless. So come November 7 I'll drag my sorry self down to the polling place and use the touch screen technology that hates me and I'll grouse about it and be angry and sad about the whole thing. But I refuse to roll over and play dead while the current political regime walks all over us without a fight.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
I hope you drag yourself there too.
