It's New Year's Eve Day, Dec 31 2010. As I sit here listening to Nawang Khechog, beautiful Tibetan flute music, I allow my mind to float over the past year. New Year's Eve is always a very magical, mystical time for me. I like looking back at how the year went, and many times, things I've forgotten about float into my awareness. This year was a pivotal year of change for me. I am not the same person here at the end of the year that I was when I started the year.
2010 began as a time filled with fear, uncertainty, grief and much trepidation. I was getting close to the end of the bankruptcy, but still had no idea what was going to happen with my business. I was excited though, as I was putting out another record with a band I still believed in, and even though they were acting like jerks, I still thought everything would be ok. It was just they were being affected by the uncertainty in my life. I was still taking responsibility for their feelings, which of course makes me laugh now as I look back, but then, I still felt a tremendous desire to "make it ok" for them.
I was still operating my life as I had, like a classic co-dependent in an unhealthy relationship. Only now, the relationship was between me and my business. No wonder it was in melt down mode! One of the best gifts I got at the beginning of the year , besides word that my bankruptcy was finalized, was a book called The Courage of Change, one of the Al Anon texts. I had finally reached a place in my life where I knew that I was truly, completely miserable. I had definitely hit bottom emotionally,and so, as often happens when one finally surrenders control, help arrived in the form of this book.
I didn't have anything else left to lose, and so I opened the book and read the entry for Jan 1, and read the words talking about recovery as a process, a day by day practice in taking action for ones' self to change the life you no longer are comfortable with. And thus, little by little, began a practice that would carry me through the turbulent months to come. I slowly started to allow my life to change as I faced the downsizing of my business through employees moving on, the realization that I no longer wanted to put all my energy into supporting a store front, the need to simplify my life. It had gotten completely out of control, unmanageable and overwhelming, and I was finally ready to face the fact that it no longer gave me any pleasure and I could just stop.
And my habit of trying to fix other people's lives when they reallly didn't want the help? Well, I got that message loud and clear when, despite my best efforts, the last band I was holding onto hired a lawyer to get their record back from me. They didn't even have the courage to tell me themselves. It was the last thread holding me to my old way of life, my old patterns.
And so, by the middle of the year, I finally said "screw you" to this last distraction, and started putting myself first. It began in little ways, with little daily actions, such as taking the time to sleep as much as my body needed, only working part time when I just felt too overwhelmed, taking the time to meditate and pray, and really ask The Universe for help and guidance.
Now, on the last day of the year, I look back over it, and almost don't recognize the woman I am now. I am no longer turning myself inside out for my business and for the people connected with that business. For the first time in a very long time, I am truly at peace, deeply content, and grateful for the calm that has entered my life. I still have a long way to go, but I understand now the ancient instructions "Be Here Now" or, live in the present moment. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, and honestly, I don't really care. It will be what it will be. All I can do is check in with my body today, at this very moment, and see where I'm at. And that's good enough.
Tonight, I plan on taking 3 helium balloons and for each one, writing down a request for the feelings I want to fill my life with in 2011: peace, tranquility, grace, gratitude, abundance of blessings, love, delight, joy, harmonious relationships with all who enter my life.... you get the picture. Tie the pieces of paper with your requests to the string on each balloon, and let it go into the night. Let it go, and then pay attention in the year to come to see how your requests will manifest. I don't know how they will come to me, but again, it doesn't really matter. All that matters is that I ask for it, and then get out of the way and allow the Universe to give it to me, however it will come.
I found this year that by asking and surrendering, amazing things can happen to transform your life, but not necessarily in the ways you expect. At the beginning of this year, I was praying for all the misery to be gone. I was done. And now, on the last day of this year, I can laugh. My prayers were answered. It doesn't look at all like what I imagined it to look like, and its still unfolding, but the truth is, I got exactly what I asked for: peace, calm, miracles and a great deal of love and support.
Happy New Year. May 2011 unfold in delightfully unexpected ways for you all.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, November 25, 2010
The Guest House - Giving Thanks for Pain
Its Thanksgiving morning, cold, crisp, with the sun just starting to creep up over the treetops. Its going to be a beautiful day. I'm sure there's many songs out there about this day, but none of them come to me at the moment.
Instead, I sit in the dark of my living room, candles burning, and Gregorian chants softly playing in the background. I let my mind drift back over the past year, and feel humbled by the deep sense of peace and calm that fills me. I truly understand the meaning of this day like I never did before.
A year ago, I was in the midst of a turbulent storm brought on by finally filing for personal bankruptcy. My life had shattered into a million tiny pieces, and despair, fear and chaos filled my heart and soul. I was grieving like I had never grieved before, completely at a loss, and standing in the midst of wreckage. I surrendered completely at that point. I could do no more, except cry and pray for an end to the pain.
A year ago today, I was reaching for the little things in my life I was grateful for: my sweet loving supportive boyfriend Bill, my close friends who hugged me whenever they saw me, my family who stood by me even though they didn't understand how I had gotten to the place I had, my snug little house that I wasn't sure I would be able to keep, and the wonderful smells coming from my kitchen as I prepared a Thanksgiving feast, excited about the gathering of friends that was to happen later that day, ready to share good food and company.
It was being thankful for those things that helped me weather that storm. The feeling of having your life turned upside down is indescribable. While I've never been through a natural disaster like a flood or hurricane, I can empathize with those who have been through it, knowing that feeling of losing your life as you have known it.
But it is precisely that feelings of being ripped from your safe harbor that is the gift, the blessing. If you had told me a year ago I would be looking back on bankruptcy as a blessing, I would have laughed in your face and told you you were crazy. But here I am, a year later, thinking exactly that thought.
That storm caused me to look at my life as I never had before, and admit that it wasn't working. I just didn't have the courage to change it. Its hard to change, when even what you're living with causes you misery. Even if it totally sucks, its still familiar. We know what to expect, and that is comforting. I wouldn't have voluntarily changed.
But here I am, a year later, still uncertain exactly where I'm going, but grateful that the nightmare forced me to reevaluate my life in ways that I never could have anticipated. There's a poem by Rumi that I absolutely love, and go back to time and time again which so eloquently describes this experience, called The Guest House:
Instead, I sit in the dark of my living room, candles burning, and Gregorian chants softly playing in the background. I let my mind drift back over the past year, and feel humbled by the deep sense of peace and calm that fills me. I truly understand the meaning of this day like I never did before.
A year ago, I was in the midst of a turbulent storm brought on by finally filing for personal bankruptcy. My life had shattered into a million tiny pieces, and despair, fear and chaos filled my heart and soul. I was grieving like I had never grieved before, completely at a loss, and standing in the midst of wreckage. I surrendered completely at that point. I could do no more, except cry and pray for an end to the pain.
A year ago today, I was reaching for the little things in my life I was grateful for: my sweet loving supportive boyfriend Bill, my close friends who hugged me whenever they saw me, my family who stood by me even though they didn't understand how I had gotten to the place I had, my snug little house that I wasn't sure I would be able to keep, and the wonderful smells coming from my kitchen as I prepared a Thanksgiving feast, excited about the gathering of friends that was to happen later that day, ready to share good food and company.
It was being thankful for those things that helped me weather that storm. The feeling of having your life turned upside down is indescribable. While I've never been through a natural disaster like a flood or hurricane, I can empathize with those who have been through it, knowing that feeling of losing your life as you have known it.
But it is precisely that feelings of being ripped from your safe harbor that is the gift, the blessing. If you had told me a year ago I would be looking back on bankruptcy as a blessing, I would have laughed in your face and told you you were crazy. But here I am, a year later, thinking exactly that thought.
That storm caused me to look at my life as I never had before, and admit that it wasn't working. I just didn't have the courage to change it. Its hard to change, when even what you're living with causes you misery. Even if it totally sucks, its still familiar. We know what to expect, and that is comforting. I wouldn't have voluntarily changed.
But here I am, a year later, still uncertain exactly where I'm going, but grateful that the nightmare forced me to reevaluate my life in ways that I never could have anticipated. There's a poem by Rumi that I absolutely love, and go back to time and time again which so eloquently describes this experience, called The Guest House:
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
Today, as you celebrate with friends and family, have the courage to look at your life. If there is something that isn't working, look it in the face and say hello. Maybe its a gift that is patiently knocking at your door. Open the door before it becomes a force so big, you can't ignore it. For this lesson, I am deeply grateful.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
You Ain't Nobody 'til Somebody Loves You
I woke up with this old Dean Martin song in my head this morning "You Ain't Nobody 'til Somebody Loves You". Its a great song, and I love Deano's voice on this track. Its a bit of a misnomer though. While having the love of others is important, its really more important to love yourself first. You have to be the "somebody" in the song.
I'm not certain what started me thinking on this, except that last night was the gallery opening for my boyfriend Bill's paintings. It was a lot of fun, and the turn out was great. He couldn't be there because he was working (at Sacramento Tattoo), so I stood in as his voice for the paintings. People loved them, and the praise was genuine and heart felt, not just someone blowing smoke up my ass because they wanted to seem "cool". Many of our friends showed up in support, and it made me stop to realize once again how lucky I am, and we are, to have such an amazing circle of support around us.
Our friends came out to be part of this gallery opening to show how much they love us. Its as simple as that. In the world of punk rock, its really not cool to let on that you care about people and want to be there for them. But that's a big reason why I'm so done with this whole scene. I am sick to death of people always looking to see what's in it for them, instead of just being there for someone else, just to show you care.
But the interesting thing is, until you really start being there for yourself, and caring about yourself, setting your own boundaries about what you will and won't put up with, you don't really give others the opportunity to show their support and love because they don't really know where they stand.
When I was meditating about this this morning, this made perfect sense to me. Now that I try to put it into words, its seems a bit more confusing, but really, it isn't. Love yourself first and foremost. In the most humble but honest way, be clear about what you will and won't accept in your life. In other words, be ok with setting your boundaries and saying "no, that doesn't work for me". When you do this, it is the most loving thing you can do for yourself, but more importantly for the people around you. It makes it safe for those you care about to do the same thing for themselves. I have the most amazing boyfriend and circle of friends ever. A few years ago, I could never have imagined love and support like this. It was all about me turning myself inside out to make others happy and to give them what I thought they wanted. But gradually recognizing what didn't work for me and saying so has opened me up to this entirely new world and new way of living, and its so much more satisfying and fun!
Deano was right: just make that "somebody" who loves you yourself first. You'll be amazed at how much better your life can become when you do.
I'm not certain what started me thinking on this, except that last night was the gallery opening for my boyfriend Bill's paintings. It was a lot of fun, and the turn out was great. He couldn't be there because he was working (at Sacramento Tattoo), so I stood in as his voice for the paintings. People loved them, and the praise was genuine and heart felt, not just someone blowing smoke up my ass because they wanted to seem "cool". Many of our friends showed up in support, and it made me stop to realize once again how lucky I am, and we are, to have such an amazing circle of support around us.
Our friends came out to be part of this gallery opening to show how much they love us. Its as simple as that. In the world of punk rock, its really not cool to let on that you care about people and want to be there for them. But that's a big reason why I'm so done with this whole scene. I am sick to death of people always looking to see what's in it for them, instead of just being there for someone else, just to show you care.
But the interesting thing is, until you really start being there for yourself, and caring about yourself, setting your own boundaries about what you will and won't put up with, you don't really give others the opportunity to show their support and love because they don't really know where they stand.
When I was meditating about this this morning, this made perfect sense to me. Now that I try to put it into words, its seems a bit more confusing, but really, it isn't. Love yourself first and foremost. In the most humble but honest way, be clear about what you will and won't accept in your life. In other words, be ok with setting your boundaries and saying "no, that doesn't work for me". When you do this, it is the most loving thing you can do for yourself, but more importantly for the people around you. It makes it safe for those you care about to do the same thing for themselves. I have the most amazing boyfriend and circle of friends ever. A few years ago, I could never have imagined love and support like this. It was all about me turning myself inside out to make others happy and to give them what I thought they wanted. But gradually recognizing what didn't work for me and saying so has opened me up to this entirely new world and new way of living, and its so much more satisfying and fun!
Deano was right: just make that "somebody" who loves you yourself first. You'll be amazed at how much better your life can become when you do.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Let the River Run
I just got back from a week long visit to New York to meet my mother's side of the family. Talk about mind blowing! I just discovered I have a whole lot of cousins and second cousins I had no idea even existed! It was exciting, and overwhelming and heartwarming all at the same time.
Both my grandparents on my mother's side came to America from Sicily. They passed through Ellis Island and settled in New York, some in Brooklyn, some in Manhattan and eventually out to Long Island and Staten Island. The history that is buried with my grandparents will never be recovered, and while I never got to meet my grandfather, I spent quite a bit of time with my grandmother before her death in 1983, but never thought to write down or record the stories before her death. Thankfully, my newfound relatives are able to provide many of the missing pieces and stories. I come from a family that is filled with dreamers, believing in the goodness and prosperity for all.
My brother and I spent the afternoon one day taking my mom around to her old neighborhood. Much of it is gone now, torn down and rebuilt, like the old tennament building my great-grandfather used to own, where all the family lived together in a tight knit community. But the church where she was baptized and married is still there, and the short walk down to the east river is still accessible. Suddenly, all the stories my mother shared with us growing up had a realness to them that I never imagined before.
We rode the Staten Island Ferry over to stay with my cousin for a couple of days, and I couldn't help but want to burst into the Carly Simon song "Let the River Run" from the movie Working Girl with Melanie Griffith http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cv-0mmVnxPA. The ferry is exactly like it was in the movie, and according to my mother, just like it was when she used to ride it as a child. I stood out on the deck and watched the Statue of Liberty as we floated by, and thought about that song.
I just rented the movie again last night, and felt like crying when the song played. My life is so similar, filled with the struggle to be heard, and taken seriously, and yet maintain integrity despite the best attempts of others to discredit you. I am a dreamer. I've always been a dreamer, believing in the best of humanity, in magic, in miracles. in treating others how I want to be treated. Always a glass half full sort of girl, always positive, no matter how crappy people were and hopeless the situation seemed.
Let the river run,
Let all the dreamers
Wake the nation.
Come, the New Jerusalem.
This song has taken on a new meaning for me for so many reasons. I really started to question my belief in the inherent goodness of people after the events of recent months. People I loved and cared about, people I trusted and thought were friends, are now believing all the lies and garbage being told about me. I really have examined my actions and words from this last year, and while I've made some mistakes, I never gave them reason to doubt me or not trust my integrity. And yet, they jumped to believe the worst about me. It was enough to make me want to quit and not stand up for myself. What is the point? They wouldn't believe me anyway.
Unlike the Melanie Griffith character in the movie, I don't have a knight in shining armor to stand up for me. I have to do that myself. I know deep in my soul I did nothing wrong. I have tried to reach out, tried to elicit a conversation and clear the air, but when the other party refuses, all you can do is know you've done your best and walk away. Let it go. Let the River Run.
This has been the situation over and over again this last year. Those who know me, truly know me, know what I stand for and believe in. They love me and honor my integrity. And those who want to listen to lies and garbage from people grasping for glory by putting others down, well, its their loss. The world is a sadder place for it, but one day, maybe they will see and hopefully when that day comes, they will have the guts to acknowledge their erroneous thinking. Me, I''m better off with the dreamers.
Both my grandparents on my mother's side came to America from Sicily. They passed through Ellis Island and settled in New York, some in Brooklyn, some in Manhattan and eventually out to Long Island and Staten Island. The history that is buried with my grandparents will never be recovered, and while I never got to meet my grandfather, I spent quite a bit of time with my grandmother before her death in 1983, but never thought to write down or record the stories before her death. Thankfully, my newfound relatives are able to provide many of the missing pieces and stories. I come from a family that is filled with dreamers, believing in the goodness and prosperity for all.
My brother and I spent the afternoon one day taking my mom around to her old neighborhood. Much of it is gone now, torn down and rebuilt, like the old tennament building my great-grandfather used to own, where all the family lived together in a tight knit community. But the church where she was baptized and married is still there, and the short walk down to the east river is still accessible. Suddenly, all the stories my mother shared with us growing up had a realness to them that I never imagined before.
We rode the Staten Island Ferry over to stay with my cousin for a couple of days, and I couldn't help but want to burst into the Carly Simon song "Let the River Run" from the movie Working Girl with Melanie Griffith http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cv-0mmVnxPA. The ferry is exactly like it was in the movie, and according to my mother, just like it was when she used to ride it as a child. I stood out on the deck and watched the Statue of Liberty as we floated by, and thought about that song.
I just rented the movie again last night, and felt like crying when the song played. My life is so similar, filled with the struggle to be heard, and taken seriously, and yet maintain integrity despite the best attempts of others to discredit you. I am a dreamer. I've always been a dreamer, believing in the best of humanity, in magic, in miracles. in treating others how I want to be treated. Always a glass half full sort of girl, always positive, no matter how crappy people were and hopeless the situation seemed.
Let the river run,
Let all the dreamers
Wake the nation.
Come, the New Jerusalem.
This song has taken on a new meaning for me for so many reasons. I really started to question my belief in the inherent goodness of people after the events of recent months. People I loved and cared about, people I trusted and thought were friends, are now believing all the lies and garbage being told about me. I really have examined my actions and words from this last year, and while I've made some mistakes, I never gave them reason to doubt me or not trust my integrity. And yet, they jumped to believe the worst about me. It was enough to make me want to quit and not stand up for myself. What is the point? They wouldn't believe me anyway.
Unlike the Melanie Griffith character in the movie, I don't have a knight in shining armor to stand up for me. I have to do that myself. I know deep in my soul I did nothing wrong. I have tried to reach out, tried to elicit a conversation and clear the air, but when the other party refuses, all you can do is know you've done your best and walk away. Let it go. Let the River Run.
This has been the situation over and over again this last year. Those who know me, truly know me, know what I stand for and believe in. They love me and honor my integrity. And those who want to listen to lies and garbage from people grasping for glory by putting others down, well, its their loss. The world is a sadder place for it, but one day, maybe they will see and hopefully when that day comes, they will have the guts to acknowledge their erroneous thinking. Me, I''m better off with the dreamers.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
When I'm Gone
It's been a few days since I've woken up with a song in my head. I haven't worried about it, it meant I got several good nights of deep healing sleep, which I was desperate for. But this morning, once again, there was a song, and it just happened to be from a band I put out a record for.
I Walk The Line are from Finland, and they're probably one of the best bands I've seen live. I am immensely proud of the record I released for them, Desolation Street in 2007 (Gearhead Records, RPM 071 www.gearheadrecords.com). Its dark and dreamy and melancholy, unlike anything else I've ever released, but speaks to my soul in so many ways, and is probably one of my favorite records I've released. This morning it was "When I'm Gone" that was in my head. I wondered why, since I haven't listened to the record for probably 6 months. And of course, I went and read the lyrics, and just had to laugh: it was there in black and white, (well, pale yellow and brown if you actually look at the record cover): all the internal stuff I've been struggling with these past few days. Here's the first line of the song:
You stuck a knife deep in my flesh again
You're twisting it around until I don't feel more pain.
You tore me up in pieces today.
I'm on the floor and you just walk over me
I don't know if I even care anymore
I'm beaten numb
I don't feel the pain at all
Dark right? But so intensely emotional, so hurt. People keep asking why I don't want to put any more records out, why I don't want to help bands anymore, and these words pretty much nail it in one fell swoop. I started this company because I wanted to help bands find a voice and get exposure. I wanted to use my skills and my talents to help them in a way they could never do themselves. I believed this so deeply in my core, that every single band I've signed, every single record I helped bring into this world, I believed this about. And almost every single time, it has backfired on me. And yet I kept going. Until now.
I had pretty much decided I wasn't going to spend my time and energy anymore on helping bands when I realized they didn't give a shit about me, or how their actions affected me. I realized finally that, while they said they wanted help, it wasn't really true. I was the one turning myself inside out to help people that didn't really want help. They were just along for the ride, driven by thoughts of fame and glory.
But there was one band who I thought was different. They seemed so down to earth, real people, wanting my help as much as I wanted to give it. They listened and followed my suggestions and guidance, until recently. And then the egos got in the way, like it always does. I've never lied to any of the bands I worked with; in fact, I was bluntly honest about the hard work it would take to move forward. I put my heart and soul into helping these guys, firmly believing we were a team working towards a common goal. But somehow, it all fell apart. They started believing things people were saying about me, and in turn, started acting like prima donnas. They were looking for something better.
It hurt, deeply. It is just like when a relationship breaks up, and you're left standing there going "what happened" ? There's nothing I can do to change their minds or fix this, and frankly, I don't want to. It is yet another blessing in disguise from the Universe, now freeing me to move on the way I had planned to and be free of the egos and irrationalities of dealing with bands and all their dramas. I am finally over it, and this was the proverbial "straw that broke the camel's back". I have no illusion or romance any more about this industry, and I can now wish them well, and walk away. I don't need this bullshit in my life. I'm much happier without it.
I was reading today's passage in the Al Anon book "Courage to Change" and interestingly enough, todays quote was about not letting others unkind words and criticisms hurt you, but to look to yourself for the truth: "If one throws salt at thee thou wilt receive no harm unless thou hast sore places" (Latin Proverb).
I don't need to let myself be abused by others, because I did my best, with true pure intentions. I can look at this whole situation and know I have taken the high road here, and let it go honorably and humbly. I am not beaten, I just choose to look at the truth of the situation and be grateful I can no longer be hurt because it doesn't matter any more. Its no longer my problem.
I Walk The Line are from Finland, and they're probably one of the best bands I've seen live. I am immensely proud of the record I released for them, Desolation Street in 2007 (Gearhead Records, RPM 071 www.gearheadrecords.com). Its dark and dreamy and melancholy, unlike anything else I've ever released, but speaks to my soul in so many ways, and is probably one of my favorite records I've released. This morning it was "When I'm Gone" that was in my head. I wondered why, since I haven't listened to the record for probably 6 months. And of course, I went and read the lyrics, and just had to laugh: it was there in black and white, (well, pale yellow and brown if you actually look at the record cover): all the internal stuff I've been struggling with these past few days. Here's the first line of the song:
You stuck a knife deep in my flesh again
You're twisting it around until I don't feel more pain.
You tore me up in pieces today.
I'm on the floor and you just walk over me
I don't know if I even care anymore
I'm beaten numb
I don't feel the pain at all
Dark right? But so intensely emotional, so hurt. People keep asking why I don't want to put any more records out, why I don't want to help bands anymore, and these words pretty much nail it in one fell swoop. I started this company because I wanted to help bands find a voice and get exposure. I wanted to use my skills and my talents to help them in a way they could never do themselves. I believed this so deeply in my core, that every single band I've signed, every single record I helped bring into this world, I believed this about. And almost every single time, it has backfired on me. And yet I kept going. Until now.
I had pretty much decided I wasn't going to spend my time and energy anymore on helping bands when I realized they didn't give a shit about me, or how their actions affected me. I realized finally that, while they said they wanted help, it wasn't really true. I was the one turning myself inside out to help people that didn't really want help. They were just along for the ride, driven by thoughts of fame and glory.
But there was one band who I thought was different. They seemed so down to earth, real people, wanting my help as much as I wanted to give it. They listened and followed my suggestions and guidance, until recently. And then the egos got in the way, like it always does. I've never lied to any of the bands I worked with; in fact, I was bluntly honest about the hard work it would take to move forward. I put my heart and soul into helping these guys, firmly believing we were a team working towards a common goal. But somehow, it all fell apart. They started believing things people were saying about me, and in turn, started acting like prima donnas. They were looking for something better.
It hurt, deeply. It is just like when a relationship breaks up, and you're left standing there going "what happened" ? There's nothing I can do to change their minds or fix this, and frankly, I don't want to. It is yet another blessing in disguise from the Universe, now freeing me to move on the way I had planned to and be free of the egos and irrationalities of dealing with bands and all their dramas. I am finally over it, and this was the proverbial "straw that broke the camel's back". I have no illusion or romance any more about this industry, and I can now wish them well, and walk away. I don't need this bullshit in my life. I'm much happier without it.
I was reading today's passage in the Al Anon book "Courage to Change" and interestingly enough, todays quote was about not letting others unkind words and criticisms hurt you, but to look to yourself for the truth: "If one throws salt at thee thou wilt receive no harm unless thou hast sore places" (Latin Proverb).
I don't need to let myself be abused by others, because I did my best, with true pure intentions. I can look at this whole situation and know I have taken the high road here, and let it go honorably and humbly. I am not beaten, I just choose to look at the truth of the situation and be grateful I can no longer be hurt because it doesn't matter any more. Its no longer my problem.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Life Uncommon
I just got back from a weekend in Boise, ID where my oldest nephew got married. It was an amazing weekend, and Boise is beautiful, filled with a rich blend of deciduous and evergreen trees, charming little houses and shops, and ringed by spectacular rugged hills and sagebrush.
I woke up with the song Life Uncommon by Jewel in my head, the melody soaring through my brain, but I couldn't remember the words at all, only the chorus, "lend our voices to the sounds of freedom."
As I've shared previously, I often wake up with songs reverberating in my mind, and if I dig a little bit, there's always a message that's pertinent to what I'm currently dealing with. In this case, it was the gift of this weekend that was really resonating with me.
I come from a large family, 4 girls, 3 boys. I'm 3rd oldest in this bunch. When you grow up there is always the problem of reverting back to those assigned family roles when you all get back together, even if you're all adults. Its probably why so many people dread holiday gatherings, where they are instantly shoved back into the roll they played as a child, even when they're 50.
Usually, as much as I love my family, this is exactly what happens when we all get together, and it leads to anger, frustration, and the overwhelming desire just to get the hell out of this nightmare and back to my own life, where I can be me, in the real world, with all my real accomplishments and passions and abilities intact, waiting for me to pick them back up again.
This weekend was different though. I went to this wedding with the desire to really see, really hear, who my siblings had become as adults, and allow them that chance to be who they are NOW, not who they were when we were children.
How amazing to look at my brothers and sisters with those new eyes. Who knew my baby sister was such an amazing dancer? Who knew my oldest brother was so sweet and so laid back? I sit and play through the various conversations I had this weekend, and am so grateful for the gift of time and growth, and change.
So how does this song apply to what I'm going through right now? I had to read the lyrics to really get the message, but its coming through loud and clear. "Set down your chains, until only faith remains. And lend your voices only to the sounds of freedom. No longer lend your strength to that which you wish to be free from. Fill your lives with love and bravery, and we shall lead a life uncommon"
Above anything else in our lives, we want our families to be proud of us, to love us and validate the things we've created for ourselves as adults. Even if its not who we were as children. We want the ability to grow and change and become new people. But so often, we are chained to the past, to old roles and habits and expectations, unable to grow in the eyes of our parents and siblings, always and forever stuck at who we were in the past.
Forever fighting and trying to prove something to the people we love and care about. No wonder so many of us move hundreds or thousands of miles away from our families. We have to, just to grow up and become the new people we were meant to be.
I was able to look at my siblings for the first time ever, and validate who they are as people, separate from the family and the choices they've made to pursue the lives they desire. And I was able to validate for myself the exact same thing. I am no longer that little kid, stuck in the middle, invisible and aching for attention, for validation for something I created, like an amazing poem, or straight A's, or a world famous record company.
By letting go of the chains that tie us to the past, we are free. Free to love and grow, free to discover new things that light our fire, like a passion for cars, or for dancing, or a deep appreciation for poetry, or a sardonic wit. Or a new passion for exercising, or horses or whatever! Things that weren't even a glimmer in our childhoods, but now fill our adult lives with joy. By letting go, and giving permission to those we love most in the world to change, we allow each other , but most of all ourselves, to live a life uncommon.
I woke up with the song Life Uncommon by Jewel in my head, the melody soaring through my brain, but I couldn't remember the words at all, only the chorus, "lend our voices to the sounds of freedom."
As I've shared previously, I often wake up with songs reverberating in my mind, and if I dig a little bit, there's always a message that's pertinent to what I'm currently dealing with. In this case, it was the gift of this weekend that was really resonating with me.
I come from a large family, 4 girls, 3 boys. I'm 3rd oldest in this bunch. When you grow up there is always the problem of reverting back to those assigned family roles when you all get back together, even if you're all adults. Its probably why so many people dread holiday gatherings, where they are instantly shoved back into the roll they played as a child, even when they're 50.
Usually, as much as I love my family, this is exactly what happens when we all get together, and it leads to anger, frustration, and the overwhelming desire just to get the hell out of this nightmare and back to my own life, where I can be me, in the real world, with all my real accomplishments and passions and abilities intact, waiting for me to pick them back up again.
This weekend was different though. I went to this wedding with the desire to really see, really hear, who my siblings had become as adults, and allow them that chance to be who they are NOW, not who they were when we were children.
How amazing to look at my brothers and sisters with those new eyes. Who knew my baby sister was such an amazing dancer? Who knew my oldest brother was so sweet and so laid back? I sit and play through the various conversations I had this weekend, and am so grateful for the gift of time and growth, and change.
So how does this song apply to what I'm going through right now? I had to read the lyrics to really get the message, but its coming through loud and clear. "Set down your chains, until only faith remains. And lend your voices only to the sounds of freedom. No longer lend your strength to that which you wish to be free from. Fill your lives with love and bravery, and we shall lead a life uncommon"
Above anything else in our lives, we want our families to be proud of us, to love us and validate the things we've created for ourselves as adults. Even if its not who we were as children. We want the ability to grow and change and become new people. But so often, we are chained to the past, to old roles and habits and expectations, unable to grow in the eyes of our parents and siblings, always and forever stuck at who we were in the past.
Forever fighting and trying to prove something to the people we love and care about. No wonder so many of us move hundreds or thousands of miles away from our families. We have to, just to grow up and become the new people we were meant to be.
I was able to look at my siblings for the first time ever, and validate who they are as people, separate from the family and the choices they've made to pursue the lives they desire. And I was able to validate for myself the exact same thing. I am no longer that little kid, stuck in the middle, invisible and aching for attention, for validation for something I created, like an amazing poem, or straight A's, or a world famous record company.
By letting go of the chains that tie us to the past, we are free. Free to love and grow, free to discover new things that light our fire, like a passion for cars, or for dancing, or a deep appreciation for poetry, or a sardonic wit. Or a new passion for exercising, or horses or whatever! Things that weren't even a glimmer in our childhoods, but now fill our adult lives with joy. By letting go, and giving permission to those we love most in the world to change, we allow each other , but most of all ourselves, to live a life uncommon.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Moving past resentment
I am listening to "Chant" by the Benedictine Monks of Santo Domingo De Silos. Its beautiful, peaceful, ethereal. It perfectly suits the mood I woke up in this morning. For the first time in a long time, I am filled with peace. And I'm very grateful for this miracle.
I went to bed in a state of agitation last night. I fell asleep praying for help to just end this resentment and anger that has been boiling my blood for the last few weeks. I was so tired of it, and nothing I was doing seemed to help.
I've been reading many spiritual texts lately, seeking answers and understanding, and the common theme in all of them, Buddhist, Christian, New Age, Metaphysical, all seems to be forgiveness as a way of letting go and moving on. But how does one forgive something so egregious as betrayal of trust?
I was going through some pretty rough times back in 1996 when my then-husband was in rehab. It was suggested to me over and over again that I should begin attending Al Anon meetings to get some help and support. I went to several meetings, but couldn't take the whining, poor pitiful me attitudes of people who felt like victims. So I never bothered to go back. I could deal with this myself.
Its only been recently that I started reading one of the handbooks "Courage to Change." It makes so much more sense to me now, looking back at my life, the twists and turns that its taken, and the stuff that was "done to me". Only now am I realizing I've been living like a victim all these years, and when you're in that state, you'll never be able to move past resentment into forgiveness.
So it was with a great deal of ironic humor that I realized when I woke up this morning, I finally get it. The reading for today was on letting go of resentment, because it keeps you stuck in the moment of pain, stuck in the act of being a victim. But how do you forgive when you can't forget? When you stew in anger and resentment, furious that it has happened yet again?
I've had alot of really shitty things happen to me over the years: girlfriends stealing boyfriends, abuse, betrayal, being physically assaulted with a knife by someone I trusted and loved, lied to and cheated, taken advantage of....all by people I trusted... blah blah blah, the list could go on and on. We've all had this shit happen, but how we chose to deal with it is the real test of character.
This morning I realized I really could just let it all go, by simply chosing not to be a victim to circumstances anymore. I could forgive these many many people who have hurt me deeply, but by forgiving it, I was not condoning their horrible behavior. I was just chosing to no longer allow it to affect me in a negative manner. A meadowlark started singing outside my open patio door. And that's when the chanting of the monks popped into my head.
Their music is so incredible, so peaceful. I remember when this record came out back in 1993. It caused a huge stir in the music industry, hitting the top of the charts on the Billboard pop charts. It was all anyone could talk about. I was working at a record store on Haight Street, Reckless Records, and we couldn't keep this record in stock, selling probably 20 or 30 copies a week. It was insane. Of course, I listened to it at the time, but didn't get it. Who in their right mind would consciously put something that slow and boring on? It makes me laugh now to remember my mystification about this record.
I think its like wine. You have to grow up some and have some life experience before you can really appreciate a good glass of red wine. Or jazz. There are some things in life you just have to be a bit more mature to get.
Forgiveness is like that. This morning, it clicked. Just like that. And the Monks of Santo Domingo De Silos, their music makes perfect sense to me now. It is soaring, freeing, reaching skyward, to the limitless blue stretching above. Heavenly. Peaceful.
And that's what it feels like to finally reach this place of understanding, releasing the resentment and anger that has clogged my mind and soul. I'm done. Its gone. Those people who perpetrated these hateful acts have to deal with it in their own way. I'm done.
I went to bed in a state of agitation last night. I fell asleep praying for help to just end this resentment and anger that has been boiling my blood for the last few weeks. I was so tired of it, and nothing I was doing seemed to help.
I've been reading many spiritual texts lately, seeking answers and understanding, and the common theme in all of them, Buddhist, Christian, New Age, Metaphysical, all seems to be forgiveness as a way of letting go and moving on. But how does one forgive something so egregious as betrayal of trust?
I was going through some pretty rough times back in 1996 when my then-husband was in rehab. It was suggested to me over and over again that I should begin attending Al Anon meetings to get some help and support. I went to several meetings, but couldn't take the whining, poor pitiful me attitudes of people who felt like victims. So I never bothered to go back. I could deal with this myself.
Its only been recently that I started reading one of the handbooks "Courage to Change." It makes so much more sense to me now, looking back at my life, the twists and turns that its taken, and the stuff that was "done to me". Only now am I realizing I've been living like a victim all these years, and when you're in that state, you'll never be able to move past resentment into forgiveness.
So it was with a great deal of ironic humor that I realized when I woke up this morning, I finally get it. The reading for today was on letting go of resentment, because it keeps you stuck in the moment of pain, stuck in the act of being a victim. But how do you forgive when you can't forget? When you stew in anger and resentment, furious that it has happened yet again?
I've had alot of really shitty things happen to me over the years: girlfriends stealing boyfriends, abuse, betrayal, being physically assaulted with a knife by someone I trusted and loved, lied to and cheated, taken advantage of....all by people I trusted... blah blah blah, the list could go on and on. We've all had this shit happen, but how we chose to deal with it is the real test of character.
This morning I realized I really could just let it all go, by simply chosing not to be a victim to circumstances anymore. I could forgive these many many people who have hurt me deeply, but by forgiving it, I was not condoning their horrible behavior. I was just chosing to no longer allow it to affect me in a negative manner. A meadowlark started singing outside my open patio door. And that's when the chanting of the monks popped into my head.
Their music is so incredible, so peaceful. I remember when this record came out back in 1993. It caused a huge stir in the music industry, hitting the top of the charts on the Billboard pop charts. It was all anyone could talk about. I was working at a record store on Haight Street, Reckless Records, and we couldn't keep this record in stock, selling probably 20 or 30 copies a week. It was insane. Of course, I listened to it at the time, but didn't get it. Who in their right mind would consciously put something that slow and boring on? It makes me laugh now to remember my mystification about this record.
I think its like wine. You have to grow up some and have some life experience before you can really appreciate a good glass of red wine. Or jazz. There are some things in life you just have to be a bit more mature to get.
Forgiveness is like that. This morning, it clicked. Just like that. And the Monks of Santo Domingo De Silos, their music makes perfect sense to me now. It is soaring, freeing, reaching skyward, to the limitless blue stretching above. Heavenly. Peaceful.
And that's what it feels like to finally reach this place of understanding, releasing the resentment and anger that has clogged my mind and soul. I'm done. Its gone. Those people who perpetrated these hateful acts have to deal with it in their own way. I'm done.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Downshifting
As 2010 got under way, I began to realize that my life needed some major changes. The bankruptcy was the wake up call, but learning to apply that eye-opening experience to the rest of my life, not just my finances was more of a challenge than I thought it would be.
When you've lived your entire life pushing forward, following your passion no matter what, its easy sometimes to get lost, which is exactly what had happened to me. Have you ever been in a pool swimming, eyes closed, focused on moving yourself across the water with perfect over-head strokes, breathe, stoke, breathe, kick.... thinking you're going forward in a perfectly straight line, only to crash into the side of the pool, not realizing you had veered wildly off-course and weren't going forward at all? Well, that's what this last year has been like for me.
So as I started looking at my life, trying to see what was robbing me of my time, money, and peace, I realized it was the entire business I was in. The music business is all about forward motion: kick kick kick, stroke stroke stoke. Move forward, make a new record, never stop moving, never stop putting out or creating something new. There was always something new to create, something to prove. It wasn't until I celebrated the 10 year anniversary of my record company that I realized, that whole mindset didn't work for me anymore.
I had never stopped to enjoy what I had created, never stopped to be proud of the cool new record that I put out, that never would have existed in the world if I hadn't done it. I just never stopped!
Standing there, appreciating the people appreciating what I had created, I suddenly realized, I couldn't do this any more. I needed to stop swimming. It was killing me. And it wasn't fun any more. I hardly even listened to the records I had spent so much energy on. I started this whole company because it was fun, and music was my passion. It was never supposed to be about work.
So I conciously made the choice to downshift. I chose to close my store, although it was tremendously fun, and cute and successful, it wasn't helping me achieve the balance in my life I was seeking. I had to put out a tremendous amount of energy to keep it the way I created it, and the payback didn't really make the expense worth it.
People thought I was crazy, and maybe I was. But I needed to start eliminating things from my life that were distracting and pulling at me. I knew in my gut the store was the first thing that had to go. Next was finding a smaller location to run my business from.
While having the 3500 square foot warehouse was nice, and I felt "successful" for having found such an awesome place for such a good price, it too pulled at my energy constantly. I could never relax when I was there, never really get into the flow of the day. There was no sunlight, no fresh air. It was like being in a walk in cooler all day, and I was suffocating.
My new space is much much smaller, only 600 square feet, but its bright, filled with sunlight, with lots of windows that open for fresh air. I'm surrounded by beautiful trees and flowers, and vibrant businesses. And I continue to downshift. I've made the decision to no longer put out new records, but instead to focus on working with what I spent all this time creating.
Again, people are aghast. What, a record label that isn't putting out new records? What's wrong with you? You have such a cool business, how could you just stop? This seems to be the general reaction when I tell people what I'm doing. And its been a struggle not to get sucked back into the whole game, to not feel guilty for no longer wanting to "help" bands by putting out their record. I'm still getting sent lots of demos, and I still see bands play that I think, "oh, I could put out a great record for them."
But the truth is, I'm much happier no longer spending my time constantly explaining to new bands what they need to do to "make it" in this crazy industry. I am finally getting a chance to focus on the stuff I already did, learning to promote those records in fascinating new ways that the internet and digital age are providing. I actually have time to enjoy myself these days, to literally stop and smell the roses! I have time to spend with friends now, to attend weddings and travel!
My boyfriend's parents were in town visiting last week, and I was able to take a day off just to spend time with them, just because I could. And every Weds, the local farmers' market meets just up the street in a beautiful park, and I close up the office and wander up to check out what fresh fruit or flowers are available.
I have gone from 5th gear overdrive to 2nd gear, and I'm loving it. Life is so much more satisfying these days. I don't have excuses anymore to avoid meeting up with my friends for lunch, or to not go to a movie with my sweetheart. The slower pace has allowed me to start learning some new skills, pursue new creative ideas, and really really listen to the music that I have helped create.
I find my life is so much richer and more satisfying now that I've stopped chasing "success". I no longer have anything to prove. I am happy and content for the first time in many many years, and am grateful for the opportunity to just step back and let life and business flow around me.
When you've lived your entire life pushing forward, following your passion no matter what, its easy sometimes to get lost, which is exactly what had happened to me. Have you ever been in a pool swimming, eyes closed, focused on moving yourself across the water with perfect over-head strokes, breathe, stoke, breathe, kick.... thinking you're going forward in a perfectly straight line, only to crash into the side of the pool, not realizing you had veered wildly off-course and weren't going forward at all? Well, that's what this last year has been like for me.
So as I started looking at my life, trying to see what was robbing me of my time, money, and peace, I realized it was the entire business I was in. The music business is all about forward motion: kick kick kick, stroke stroke stoke. Move forward, make a new record, never stop moving, never stop putting out or creating something new. There was always something new to create, something to prove. It wasn't until I celebrated the 10 year anniversary of my record company that I realized, that whole mindset didn't work for me anymore.
I had never stopped to enjoy what I had created, never stopped to be proud of the cool new record that I put out, that never would have existed in the world if I hadn't done it. I just never stopped!
Standing there, appreciating the people appreciating what I had created, I suddenly realized, I couldn't do this any more. I needed to stop swimming. It was killing me. And it wasn't fun any more. I hardly even listened to the records I had spent so much energy on. I started this whole company because it was fun, and music was my passion. It was never supposed to be about work.
So I conciously made the choice to downshift. I chose to close my store, although it was tremendously fun, and cute and successful, it wasn't helping me achieve the balance in my life I was seeking. I had to put out a tremendous amount of energy to keep it the way I created it, and the payback didn't really make the expense worth it.
People thought I was crazy, and maybe I was. But I needed to start eliminating things from my life that were distracting and pulling at me. I knew in my gut the store was the first thing that had to go. Next was finding a smaller location to run my business from.
While having the 3500 square foot warehouse was nice, and I felt "successful" for having found such an awesome place for such a good price, it too pulled at my energy constantly. I could never relax when I was there, never really get into the flow of the day. There was no sunlight, no fresh air. It was like being in a walk in cooler all day, and I was suffocating.
My new space is much much smaller, only 600 square feet, but its bright, filled with sunlight, with lots of windows that open for fresh air. I'm surrounded by beautiful trees and flowers, and vibrant businesses. And I continue to downshift. I've made the decision to no longer put out new records, but instead to focus on working with what I spent all this time creating.
Again, people are aghast. What, a record label that isn't putting out new records? What's wrong with you? You have such a cool business, how could you just stop? This seems to be the general reaction when I tell people what I'm doing. And its been a struggle not to get sucked back into the whole game, to not feel guilty for no longer wanting to "help" bands by putting out their record. I'm still getting sent lots of demos, and I still see bands play that I think, "oh, I could put out a great record for them."
But the truth is, I'm much happier no longer spending my time constantly explaining to new bands what they need to do to "make it" in this crazy industry. I am finally getting a chance to focus on the stuff I already did, learning to promote those records in fascinating new ways that the internet and digital age are providing. I actually have time to enjoy myself these days, to literally stop and smell the roses! I have time to spend with friends now, to attend weddings and travel!
My boyfriend's parents were in town visiting last week, and I was able to take a day off just to spend time with them, just because I could. And every Weds, the local farmers' market meets just up the street in a beautiful park, and I close up the office and wander up to check out what fresh fruit or flowers are available.
I have gone from 5th gear overdrive to 2nd gear, and I'm loving it. Life is so much more satisfying these days. I don't have excuses anymore to avoid meeting up with my friends for lunch, or to not go to a movie with my sweetheart. The slower pace has allowed me to start learning some new skills, pursue new creative ideas, and really really listen to the music that I have helped create.
I find my life is so much richer and more satisfying now that I've stopped chasing "success". I no longer have anything to prove. I am happy and content for the first time in many many years, and am grateful for the opportunity to just step back and let life and business flow around me.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Send a Message to my Heart
I haven't felt like writing for a while. Its been a few weeks of turbulent self examination, personal inventory and owning that I have made many many mistakes along the way. I woke up with the Dwight Yoakam song "Send a Message To My Heart" in my mind, and I had to laugh at how appropriate those words are.
As I've written about previously, the end of 2009 saw me having to face the fact that my life was completely out of control. I was in financial ruin, and emotional as well as physical bankruptcy. Now, a year later, I can look back and acknowledge that this was probably one of the greatest gifts I've ever received. It was the frying pan upside my head that finally got me to let go of trying to control everything, and just surrender. I was done.
The funny thing is, as I look back over my life, it seems the only way my heart really knows when I'm finished with something is when its gotten to the point of extreme melt-down, pain, despair and hopelessness. Its the only way the message could cut through all the garbage of self-abuse, and ignoring reality. When my heart finally gets the message, "Enough is Enough" that's when miracles occur. But wow, I think I'm done with the drama now. I am ready to pay attention and get messages in a totally different way!
For example, when I was trying to decide about leaving my abusive marriage, I kept telling myself, "just give him another chance." But honestly, how many chances can you give someone? I'd lived for over 6 years with this crap, and while I am always the eternal optimist, I really needed to face the reality of the situation. It wasn't going to get better, no matter how many chances I gave him. And so I left. And while it was one of the most painful decisions I've ever made, and I felt like a failure, out of that decision I created a brand new life for myself by creating a record company, and a fresh new path. The phoenix rising from the ashes really was my life.
The same thing happened over again when things were not going well with my business partner, and we began chaffing at the restraints we were each imposing on eachother. Interestingly enough, that was also 6 years into the business when I finally couldn't take it anymore, and walked away. Again, the pain I felt was unbearable. I was frightened and hurting and again, started the self-abuse talk about being a failure. But out of that decision, I took some major chances that were incredible joyful, successful and fun, like opening my store.
And now here I am, a year after filing for bankruptcy, looking at everything I've worked for over the last 10 years go up in smoke. Boy, if you think the pain I felt over those first two scenarios was painful, let me tell you, bankruptcy is probably the worst experience I've ever gone through, emotionally, physically, psychologically. But again, as I get some distance from it, the whole thing has filled my life with tremendous blessings and gifts that I never would have been open to if it hadn't forced such a huge change in my life.
My life now is filled with peace, grace, and hope. I'm experimenting with creating again. I'm starting to try the fabulous things I've wanted to try but never had time to do because I was so focused on "saving" my business. And best of all, by letting go and saying "enough is enough", I've opened myself up to experiences I never imagined bringing into my life, and its wonderful.
That Dwight Yoakam song is really a love song, between two lovers who are separated by distance, but trust they are there for each other, no matter what. I'm finding that I've given myself that gift of love by starting to listen to my deepest inner voice. My heart always knew the right path, and now I'm finally getting the message and am allowing trust and faith to guide me. This next resurrection, the new phoenix rising, will be incredible, what ever it is. My heart will get the message.
As I've written about previously, the end of 2009 saw me having to face the fact that my life was completely out of control. I was in financial ruin, and emotional as well as physical bankruptcy. Now, a year later, I can look back and acknowledge that this was probably one of the greatest gifts I've ever received. It was the frying pan upside my head that finally got me to let go of trying to control everything, and just surrender. I was done.
The funny thing is, as I look back over my life, it seems the only way my heart really knows when I'm finished with something is when its gotten to the point of extreme melt-down, pain, despair and hopelessness. Its the only way the message could cut through all the garbage of self-abuse, and ignoring reality. When my heart finally gets the message, "Enough is Enough" that's when miracles occur. But wow, I think I'm done with the drama now. I am ready to pay attention and get messages in a totally different way!
For example, when I was trying to decide about leaving my abusive marriage, I kept telling myself, "just give him another chance." But honestly, how many chances can you give someone? I'd lived for over 6 years with this crap, and while I am always the eternal optimist, I really needed to face the reality of the situation. It wasn't going to get better, no matter how many chances I gave him. And so I left. And while it was one of the most painful decisions I've ever made, and I felt like a failure, out of that decision I created a brand new life for myself by creating a record company, and a fresh new path. The phoenix rising from the ashes really was my life.
The same thing happened over again when things were not going well with my business partner, and we began chaffing at the restraints we were each imposing on eachother. Interestingly enough, that was also 6 years into the business when I finally couldn't take it anymore, and walked away. Again, the pain I felt was unbearable. I was frightened and hurting and again, started the self-abuse talk about being a failure. But out of that decision, I took some major chances that were incredible joyful, successful and fun, like opening my store.
And now here I am, a year after filing for bankruptcy, looking at everything I've worked for over the last 10 years go up in smoke. Boy, if you think the pain I felt over those first two scenarios was painful, let me tell you, bankruptcy is probably the worst experience I've ever gone through, emotionally, physically, psychologically. But again, as I get some distance from it, the whole thing has filled my life with tremendous blessings and gifts that I never would have been open to if it hadn't forced such a huge change in my life.
My life now is filled with peace, grace, and hope. I'm experimenting with creating again. I'm starting to try the fabulous things I've wanted to try but never had time to do because I was so focused on "saving" my business. And best of all, by letting go and saying "enough is enough", I've opened myself up to experiences I never imagined bringing into my life, and its wonderful.
That Dwight Yoakam song is really a love song, between two lovers who are separated by distance, but trust they are there for each other, no matter what. I'm finding that I've given myself that gift of love by starting to listen to my deepest inner voice. My heart always knew the right path, and now I'm finally getting the message and am allowing trust and faith to guide me. This next resurrection, the new phoenix rising, will be incredible, what ever it is. My heart will get the message.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
May the Wind Take Your Troubles Away
I woke up with "Windfall" by Son Volt in my head this morning. Actually, I woke up to a very loud crow cawing outside of my bedroom window, and as I slowly gained conciousness, the song started playing in my head.
As I've mentioned before, I often wake up with songs in my head and I've found that if I pay attention to the lyrics, there's generally some message there for me that pertains to something going on in my life.
I know this sounds really out there, but I've learned to trust it and not shine it on. We're constantly getting guidance from our surroundings in one form or another. It just takes us paying attention, and slowing down enough to "get it".
The song's opening lines are:
Now and then it keeps you running
It never seems to die
The trail's spent with fear
Not enough living on the outside
Never seem to get far enough
Staying in between the lines
Hold on to what you can
Waiting for the end
Not knowing when
Its from an album called "Trace" that came out in 1995. This record has played a major part in my romantic life over the years. The year this record came out, I was first considering leaving my husband. He was wasted all the time, out of work, and a real emotional drain. He was also verbally abusive, and I was losing all sense of myself. I went to Minneapolis for a week to visit my friend Mark about a week after this record came out. We played it over and over again, and I cried as I told him what was going on in my life.
Now what does any of this have to do with me today? Well, alot actually. The emotional space I was in back in 1995 was turbulent to put it mildly. I was getting a pretty strong feeling I needed to leave my marriage, but I was plagued with fear and guilt and "what ifs", knowing I needed to make some pretty major changes in my life, but too scared to take that first step.
Its a very similar state of emotional turbulence for me in present time. Fear has kept me stuck, kept me running in between the lines. Knowing I needed to step outside of what has been a safe if very unsatisfying existence, and take a chance on the unknown.
These last few days, I've come to notice that little voice inside that is judgmental and critical, popping up everytime I decide to do something that might piss people off, or worse, make them think I'm losing it. Fear is the underlying emotion that drives that voice. "What if you make a mistake" "What will poeple think".... that sort of stuff.
But I am seeing the only way to get those voices to shut up is to have courage and listen to my inner guidance that never seems to fail me, as long as I trust it and take a leap of faith. I'm tired of always doing what other people think I should, just because it will make their life easier. What about me? What about my life? What about what I want?
So I make a decision that doesn't work for other people. What's that to me? I have to face the fear and make decisions for me, based on trusting I know what's best for me. That's all I can work on. Me. I can't change what other people think, and I certainly can't make them be ok with the decisions I'm making. Its not my problem. They have to figure that out for themselves. So they make a really bad decision and think I'm supposed to turn myself inside out to make it right for them. Its not my job to fix other people's lives, and I don't expect them to fix mine.
Only I can do that. Only I can face the fear, trust myself and drive out side of the lines, my hands firmly on the wheel, with faith as my guide that I'm going somewhere new, and will leave the fear behind.
As I've mentioned before, I often wake up with songs in my head and I've found that if I pay attention to the lyrics, there's generally some message there for me that pertains to something going on in my life.
I know this sounds really out there, but I've learned to trust it and not shine it on. We're constantly getting guidance from our surroundings in one form or another. It just takes us paying attention, and slowing down enough to "get it".
The song's opening lines are:
Now and then it keeps you running
It never seems to die
The trail's spent with fear
Not enough living on the outside
Never seem to get far enough
Staying in between the lines
Hold on to what you can
Waiting for the end
Not knowing when
Its from an album called "Trace" that came out in 1995. This record has played a major part in my romantic life over the years. The year this record came out, I was first considering leaving my husband. He was wasted all the time, out of work, and a real emotional drain. He was also verbally abusive, and I was losing all sense of myself. I went to Minneapolis for a week to visit my friend Mark about a week after this record came out. We played it over and over again, and I cried as I told him what was going on in my life.
Now what does any of this have to do with me today? Well, alot actually. The emotional space I was in back in 1995 was turbulent to put it mildly. I was getting a pretty strong feeling I needed to leave my marriage, but I was plagued with fear and guilt and "what ifs", knowing I needed to make some pretty major changes in my life, but too scared to take that first step.
Its a very similar state of emotional turbulence for me in present time. Fear has kept me stuck, kept me running in between the lines. Knowing I needed to step outside of what has been a safe if very unsatisfying existence, and take a chance on the unknown.
These last few days, I've come to notice that little voice inside that is judgmental and critical, popping up everytime I decide to do something that might piss people off, or worse, make them think I'm losing it. Fear is the underlying emotion that drives that voice. "What if you make a mistake" "What will poeple think".... that sort of stuff.
But I am seeing the only way to get those voices to shut up is to have courage and listen to my inner guidance that never seems to fail me, as long as I trust it and take a leap of faith. I'm tired of always doing what other people think I should, just because it will make their life easier. What about me? What about my life? What about what I want?
So I make a decision that doesn't work for other people. What's that to me? I have to face the fear and make decisions for me, based on trusting I know what's best for me. That's all I can work on. Me. I can't change what other people think, and I certainly can't make them be ok with the decisions I'm making. Its not my problem. They have to figure that out for themselves. So they make a really bad decision and think I'm supposed to turn myself inside out to make it right for them. Its not my job to fix other people's lives, and I don't expect them to fix mine.
Only I can do that. Only I can face the fear, trust myself and drive out side of the lines, my hands firmly on the wheel, with faith as my guide that I'm going somewhere new, and will leave the fear behind.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Roy Rogers is Riding Tonight
For the last few days, I've been waking up with the Elton John song "Roy Rogers' in my head. Usually, there's a pretty clear message for me in the songs I wake up with, but for the life of me, I couldn't get what the message was in this song. I figured it was just one of those weird things that sometimes happens with songs, when they get stuck in your head for no obvious reason.
But once again this morning, there it was, foremost in my brain as I slowly pulled myself from a deep restful sleep. So finally, after coffee and listening to my Tibetan meditation CD, I put the record on.
Elton John has always been one of my favorite artists. When I was 15, he was hitting big all over the radio, and me and my best friend Chris would get together to play his records, make up dances to go with the songs, and practice playing them on the piano.
I was still taking classical piano lessons at that time, and was so taken with his piano playing that I talked my teacher into letting me play a song for her, hoping to move onto more contemporary music. Beethoven and Mozart were great and all that, but I couldn't really see how it fit into my teenage life. I wanted to play something I could relate to and share with my friends!
So, begrudgingly, she told me I could chose one song and play it for her, and if she thought it had value, then we could look at working on more pop music. I chose "Funeral For a Friend" since it had such great long complicated piano parts; I was sure she'd be impressed and we'd start working on new material right away.
I played with heart and passion and conviction; it was one of my favorite songs, and I really wanted to do it justice. When I was done, I sat back and waited expectantly for the praise I was sure was coming. Instead, I got such an earful of criticism and judgement, I almost cried. Needless to say, she swore we would NEVER work on pop music. I went home and told my mom that was it, I was done with lessons, and promptly quit playing for almost 30 years.
So how does the song "Roy Rogers" fit into all this? Well, first off, its on the same record as "Funeral for a Friend". They're almost book ends to the double LP, "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road", one opening the record and the other closing it out. I get the message now, having listened to the entire album, and remembering this story of playing for Mrs. Mitchell. Bless her heart, what did she know? She thought she was doing me a favor, and instead, she crushed my dreams of being a pop musician.
The song opens with the lines:
Sometimes you dream
Sometimes it seems
There's nothing there at all.
You just seem older
than yesterday.
And you're waiting for tomorrow to call.
Its a song of dreams that died on the vine, visions of a magical tomorrow that never happened because real life stepped in. Instead, you think back to what you longed for as a child or teenager and watch movies and read books about other people who had the courage to pursue their dreams, no matter what criticism they hit. Roy Rogers and Trigger became a big hit, despite all the odds they faced. This song is a man sitting watching TV in the dark, dreaming his unfulfilled dreams of childhood, sure that he has missed his chance, and has to accept the drudgery of his life, waking up, going to work, eating food that he doesn't like, and escaping to watch a cowboy show on TV, imagining himself dressed up in the spangled clothing of a rodeo star while his wife and children sleep in the next room.
How sad, and how depressing. Its never too late to change your mind and pursue your dreams, no matter where you are in life or what your circumstances are. Dreams are what makes like exciting, and magical and worth living. You can always pick up where you left off in childhood. You just have to have the courage to face something that you thought was dead in you, or something you think no way in a million years could you do that now.
Me, I'm starting to play my piano again. My mom bought me a used piano for my 40th birthday, and its sat in my living room for the last 6 years. I've touched it occasionally these last few years, but never wanted to really sit down and feel the love I had for playing. I was too afraid of the judgement that might follow. But these last few months, I've been playing a little here and there, and have even started singing again, although totally in the privacy of my home, when no one is around to hear me.
Up until recently, my boyfriend had never even knew I could play. I never talked to him about it, much less played in front of him. But a few months ago, he wanted to hear Ozzy's "Changes" so I dug up the sheet music and played it for him. No judgement followed, just enthusiasm. Now he wants me to teach him the chords so he can try too. Its become this fun thing between us to practice "Changes". Maybe soon, I'll even be brave enough to sing it while playing it. I get a good laugh thinking about that. Its never too late to reclaim your passion. Let go of the fear and go for it.
But once again this morning, there it was, foremost in my brain as I slowly pulled myself from a deep restful sleep. So finally, after coffee and listening to my Tibetan meditation CD, I put the record on.
Elton John has always been one of my favorite artists. When I was 15, he was hitting big all over the radio, and me and my best friend Chris would get together to play his records, make up dances to go with the songs, and practice playing them on the piano.
I was still taking classical piano lessons at that time, and was so taken with his piano playing that I talked my teacher into letting me play a song for her, hoping to move onto more contemporary music. Beethoven and Mozart were great and all that, but I couldn't really see how it fit into my teenage life. I wanted to play something I could relate to and share with my friends!
So, begrudgingly, she told me I could chose one song and play it for her, and if she thought it had value, then we could look at working on more pop music. I chose "Funeral For a Friend" since it had such great long complicated piano parts; I was sure she'd be impressed and we'd start working on new material right away.
I played with heart and passion and conviction; it was one of my favorite songs, and I really wanted to do it justice. When I was done, I sat back and waited expectantly for the praise I was sure was coming. Instead, I got such an earful of criticism and judgement, I almost cried. Needless to say, she swore we would NEVER work on pop music. I went home and told my mom that was it, I was done with lessons, and promptly quit playing for almost 30 years.
So how does the song "Roy Rogers" fit into all this? Well, first off, its on the same record as "Funeral for a Friend". They're almost book ends to the double LP, "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road", one opening the record and the other closing it out. I get the message now, having listened to the entire album, and remembering this story of playing for Mrs. Mitchell. Bless her heart, what did she know? She thought she was doing me a favor, and instead, she crushed my dreams of being a pop musician.
The song opens with the lines:
Sometimes you dream
Sometimes it seems
There's nothing there at all.
You just seem older
than yesterday.
And you're waiting for tomorrow to call.
Its a song of dreams that died on the vine, visions of a magical tomorrow that never happened because real life stepped in. Instead, you think back to what you longed for as a child or teenager and watch movies and read books about other people who had the courage to pursue their dreams, no matter what criticism they hit. Roy Rogers and Trigger became a big hit, despite all the odds they faced. This song is a man sitting watching TV in the dark, dreaming his unfulfilled dreams of childhood, sure that he has missed his chance, and has to accept the drudgery of his life, waking up, going to work, eating food that he doesn't like, and escaping to watch a cowboy show on TV, imagining himself dressed up in the spangled clothing of a rodeo star while his wife and children sleep in the next room.
How sad, and how depressing. Its never too late to change your mind and pursue your dreams, no matter where you are in life or what your circumstances are. Dreams are what makes like exciting, and magical and worth living. You can always pick up where you left off in childhood. You just have to have the courage to face something that you thought was dead in you, or something you think no way in a million years could you do that now.
Me, I'm starting to play my piano again. My mom bought me a used piano for my 40th birthday, and its sat in my living room for the last 6 years. I've touched it occasionally these last few years, but never wanted to really sit down and feel the love I had for playing. I was too afraid of the judgement that might follow. But these last few months, I've been playing a little here and there, and have even started singing again, although totally in the privacy of my home, when no one is around to hear me.
Up until recently, my boyfriend had never even knew I could play. I never talked to him about it, much less played in front of him. But a few months ago, he wanted to hear Ozzy's "Changes" so I dug up the sheet music and played it for him. No judgement followed, just enthusiasm. Now he wants me to teach him the chords so he can try too. Its become this fun thing between us to practice "Changes". Maybe soon, I'll even be brave enough to sing it while playing it. I get a good laugh thinking about that. Its never too late to reclaim your passion. Let go of the fear and go for it.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Waving, not Drowning
Bill and I went to a water park this last Wednesday. I have been feeling so exhausted, so overwhelmed with the move, and trying to set up my new space and figure out what I was doing. Suffocating would be a better word. Have you ever been surfing and been hit by a wave that sent you reeling? Then you're caught up in the turbulence of the wave, like being stuck in the spin cycle in a washing machine, and you don't know which end is up. Well, that's been my life since I made the decision to close the store and start downshifting my business. I just couldn't do anything any more. My brain was on burnout, and I just needed a day away to play and just have some fun.
Excitedly we got to the park, uncertain what we would find, but eagerly anticipating a day splashing about in the water. I was a bit nervous, not sure how I would deal with the enclosed nature of some of the slides, since I had just recently become aware I have claustrophobia. But Bill was all gung ho and ready to just jump onto the first slide we came to and get the day moving. I made him promise we would start with the gentle slides first so I could work up to it, thinking that meant we would go on The Lazy River or the Wave Pool first.
But no, he headed right for the Half Pipe slide. It didn't look so bad, so I agreed, and we climbed up to the top of the stairs, each with our rubber floaty ready to go down the slide. I went first, totally oblivious to the terror that was about to seize my soul.
I sat down on the floaty and waited for the life guard to tell me it was time to go. I should have gotten a clue that I might be in for more than I bargained for when I noticed he was strapped into a climbing harness, with a rope fastened to the side of the security fence. It didn't really register until he pushed me off the edge of the slide, and I dropped straight down, with a scream erupting unvolintarily from my throat, conveying the sheer terror my body was experiencing.
I hit the bottom of the half pipe and shot up the other side, screaming like a maniac the whole way. When I hit the top of the other side, the rubber floaty plunged me back down again, backwards, another scream erupting from the depths of my lungs.
And then it was done, and I was sitting in the middle of a pool of water, laughing hysterically, and shaking and ready to do it all over again. I had found my metaphor for my life this last year.
And thus we spent almost 4 insanely fun, hysterically crazy, scary hours dropping over the sides of cliffs into pools of water, over and over and over again putting ourselves in harms way as far as our bodies knew, and ending up laughing and giggling like little kids. I haven't laughed that hard or smiled that much since I can remember.
I was writing about this in my journal just this morning, and it dawned on me that I have experienced this terror, this fear, every single day since I first admitted I was no longer in control of my life and filed bankruptcy.
Every day has been like being on a water slide, and sometimes those days have stretched into months of panic and fear. But always, 100 % of the time, when I have just given up and went with it, and let myself feel the panic, the terror and the out of controlness of it all, I have come out the other end, laughing, peaceful, and filled with gratitude that I could look back and see that I had the courage to face it head on. And when I did that, I always came out ok, and always with a resolution that was unexpectedly joyful and pleasing, and ultimately even better than anything I could have imagined for myself.
Yesterday, I had to go to Superior Court to answer a lawsuit that Bank of America filed against my company. There was that familiar terror and panic in my stomach as I drove to the courthouse. I couldn't do anything, knowing I was going to be plunging off a cliff, but also knowing that as long as I was honest and faced this challenge head on, eventually it would be over, and I would be looking back on this experience with hindsight now 20/20, seeing the remarkable grace that always comes when you get through the challenge.
I was nervous, and scared, but plunged over the edge when the judge called my name. I faced the charges with courage that came from some hidden source deep inside of me, and while I was screaming in terror (inside of course) I also knew at the end, there would be relief and even possibly laughter, and sure enough, the ending was a delightful unexpected surprise, one I could never have imagined but there it was. The case was dismissed. Grace. Blessings. Relief. Calm.
I'm starting to understand that life is always an ebb and flow. Challenges, hurt, pain, fear, scary situations come up. That's part of being human. But having the courage to face it head on and deal with the fear will always, without a doubt, end with blessings and surprise endings we never saw coming. And when you sit at the end looking back, you realize getting on that slide in the first place is what the exuberance of life is all about.
Excitedly we got to the park, uncertain what we would find, but eagerly anticipating a day splashing about in the water. I was a bit nervous, not sure how I would deal with the enclosed nature of some of the slides, since I had just recently become aware I have claustrophobia. But Bill was all gung ho and ready to just jump onto the first slide we came to and get the day moving. I made him promise we would start with the gentle slides first so I could work up to it, thinking that meant we would go on The Lazy River or the Wave Pool first.
But no, he headed right for the Half Pipe slide. It didn't look so bad, so I agreed, and we climbed up to the top of the stairs, each with our rubber floaty ready to go down the slide. I went first, totally oblivious to the terror that was about to seize my soul.
I sat down on the floaty and waited for the life guard to tell me it was time to go. I should have gotten a clue that I might be in for more than I bargained for when I noticed he was strapped into a climbing harness, with a rope fastened to the side of the security fence. It didn't really register until he pushed me off the edge of the slide, and I dropped straight down, with a scream erupting unvolintarily from my throat, conveying the sheer terror my body was experiencing.
I hit the bottom of the half pipe and shot up the other side, screaming like a maniac the whole way. When I hit the top of the other side, the rubber floaty plunged me back down again, backwards, another scream erupting from the depths of my lungs.
And then it was done, and I was sitting in the middle of a pool of water, laughing hysterically, and shaking and ready to do it all over again. I had found my metaphor for my life this last year.
And thus we spent almost 4 insanely fun, hysterically crazy, scary hours dropping over the sides of cliffs into pools of water, over and over and over again putting ourselves in harms way as far as our bodies knew, and ending up laughing and giggling like little kids. I haven't laughed that hard or smiled that much since I can remember.
I was writing about this in my journal just this morning, and it dawned on me that I have experienced this terror, this fear, every single day since I first admitted I was no longer in control of my life and filed bankruptcy.
Every day has been like being on a water slide, and sometimes those days have stretched into months of panic and fear. But always, 100 % of the time, when I have just given up and went with it, and let myself feel the panic, the terror and the out of controlness of it all, I have come out the other end, laughing, peaceful, and filled with gratitude that I could look back and see that I had the courage to face it head on. And when I did that, I always came out ok, and always with a resolution that was unexpectedly joyful and pleasing, and ultimately even better than anything I could have imagined for myself.
Yesterday, I had to go to Superior Court to answer a lawsuit that Bank of America filed against my company. There was that familiar terror and panic in my stomach as I drove to the courthouse. I couldn't do anything, knowing I was going to be plunging off a cliff, but also knowing that as long as I was honest and faced this challenge head on, eventually it would be over, and I would be looking back on this experience with hindsight now 20/20, seeing the remarkable grace that always comes when you get through the challenge.
I was nervous, and scared, but plunged over the edge when the judge called my name. I faced the charges with courage that came from some hidden source deep inside of me, and while I was screaming in terror (inside of course) I also knew at the end, there would be relief and even possibly laughter, and sure enough, the ending was a delightful unexpected surprise, one I could never have imagined but there it was. The case was dismissed. Grace. Blessings. Relief. Calm.
I'm starting to understand that life is always an ebb and flow. Challenges, hurt, pain, fear, scary situations come up. That's part of being human. But having the courage to face it head on and deal with the fear will always, without a doubt, end with blessings and surprise endings we never saw coming. And when you sit at the end looking back, you realize getting on that slide in the first place is what the exuberance of life is all about.
Monday, July 26, 2010
You've Got to Dance Like No One is Watching
As often happens to me, I wake up with a song in my head. I've started paying attention to the song, and while usually its the melody that sticks with me, lately, I've been paying attention the lyrics. These last few weeks, I've had a Guy Clark song (written by his wife Susanna Clark) "Come From the Heart" from his "Old Friends" record on Sugar Hill Records. I urge you to go download this song from Itunes.
I dug out my record this morning to play, and realized why I've been thinking about this song. The chorus goes:
You got to sing, like you don't need the money
Love like you'll never get hurt
You got to dance, like no one is watching
It's gotta come from the heart if you
want it to work
Yet again, words I need to pay attention to as I sit here amidst the rubble of my life. My house is a disaster, with boxes of stuff I didn't move to my new office because I was afraid I wouldn't be able to find it when I needed it. My whole work space is in complete disarray because I followed the inner voice that I needed to move, NOW, and so I did.
For some reason, this weekend, I decided I needed to paint my spare bedroom. I've been seeing the new colors in my mind for weeks, but I've ignored it. This is definitely not the right time for me to turn my house upside down too. People will think I've completely lost my mind. I think I've completely lost my mind.
But I went ahead and did it any way. I've hated the "popcorn" that was on the ceiling, so I scraped it off, despite everyone saying its dangerous and I shouldn't do it. But I did it anyway. And now, despite needing to really work on getting my office set up, and my home sorted out, I'm painting.
So why did I wake up with this song in my head? Welll, clearly, I'm learning the lesson of following my heart and my inner voice. And even when everyone around me screams that I shouldn't be doing this or that, I'm learning to just tune out the criticism and judgment and "dance like no one is watching."
Hell, I've been following my own internal rhythm since I was a child. I always knew exactly what I was supposed to do and what I wanted, even when I was very very small. I never questioned it when I was little. But as I got older, I started caring and worrying about what people would think about me and the decisions I was making, the clothes I was wearing, the music I was listening to. I stopped listening to my own internal drummer, and started listening to everyone else around me. And man, life started losing alot of the fun.
But this last year, as I've faced some of the toughest decisions of my life, I've realized I HAVE to start listening to myself. I have to start dancing like no one is watching, because this is my life, and I'm the one who has to live in my skin. I'm tired of living my life for everyone else. What the hell do I care if they think I'm off my rocker? I'm learning to laugh at myself, because I really am off my rocker sometimes, but that's part of the fun.
I cried when I played this song for myself this morning. Every single line of that song speaks to me, where I am right this very moment. It's all about trusting your authentic voice. Dance, like nobody's watching. That's life, that's love. That's the joi de vive. That's what makes being human so awesome. Going for something, just because it calls to you. Just because it seems like the right thing to do, even if everyone around you tells you you're crazy.
Thanks Guy and Susanna. I needed the reminder: "Its gotta come from the heart, if you want it to work." I'm off to paint.
I dug out my record this morning to play, and realized why I've been thinking about this song. The chorus goes:
You got to sing, like you don't need the money
Love like you'll never get hurt
You got to dance, like no one is watching
It's gotta come from the heart if you
want it to work
Yet again, words I need to pay attention to as I sit here amidst the rubble of my life. My house is a disaster, with boxes of stuff I didn't move to my new office because I was afraid I wouldn't be able to find it when I needed it. My whole work space is in complete disarray because I followed the inner voice that I needed to move, NOW, and so I did.
For some reason, this weekend, I decided I needed to paint my spare bedroom. I've been seeing the new colors in my mind for weeks, but I've ignored it. This is definitely not the right time for me to turn my house upside down too. People will think I've completely lost my mind. I think I've completely lost my mind.
But I went ahead and did it any way. I've hated the "popcorn" that was on the ceiling, so I scraped it off, despite everyone saying its dangerous and I shouldn't do it. But I did it anyway. And now, despite needing to really work on getting my office set up, and my home sorted out, I'm painting.
So why did I wake up with this song in my head? Welll, clearly, I'm learning the lesson of following my heart and my inner voice. And even when everyone around me screams that I shouldn't be doing this or that, I'm learning to just tune out the criticism and judgment and "dance like no one is watching."
Hell, I've been following my own internal rhythm since I was a child. I always knew exactly what I was supposed to do and what I wanted, even when I was very very small. I never questioned it when I was little. But as I got older, I started caring and worrying about what people would think about me and the decisions I was making, the clothes I was wearing, the music I was listening to. I stopped listening to my own internal drummer, and started listening to everyone else around me. And man, life started losing alot of the fun.
But this last year, as I've faced some of the toughest decisions of my life, I've realized I HAVE to start listening to myself. I have to start dancing like no one is watching, because this is my life, and I'm the one who has to live in my skin. I'm tired of living my life for everyone else. What the hell do I care if they think I'm off my rocker? I'm learning to laugh at myself, because I really am off my rocker sometimes, but that's part of the fun.
I cried when I played this song for myself this morning. Every single line of that song speaks to me, where I am right this very moment. It's all about trusting your authentic voice. Dance, like nobody's watching. That's life, that's love. That's the joi de vive. That's what makes being human so awesome. Going for something, just because it calls to you. Just because it seems like the right thing to do, even if everyone around you tells you you're crazy.
Thanks Guy and Susanna. I needed the reminder: "Its gotta come from the heart, if you want it to work." I'm off to paint.
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