They Call it Stormy Monday

It sure is! We woke up to a thunderstorm this morning, and now the lovely cool air is blowing through my open windows.

Miles is at school, Skylar is napping, and I'm enjoying some coffee. These moments of solitude are precious and brief. I sometimes have a hard time deciding how to spend them. Like most people, especially moms, I have a list of things I could and should be doing, but not nearly enough time to do it in. Some days I have enough energy to do the load of laundry, work on some freelance, clean up the kitchen, and do some yoga.

But most days I can only do one, two if I'm lucky. Something always falls by the wayside. And many times, what I really need is a nap, in which case I don't get anything done (not that a nap is a waste of time...oh precious nap time, it's been too long...).

It may not seem like a big deal, but the little choices we make, like how to spend our free time, can add up and effect the whole day.

I know that I feel better when I do some yoga, take a nap, or work on something creative. Yet, sometimes all I want to do is veg out in front of the TV. Cleaning too, even though it's necessary, often becomes busy work for me, a way to avoid the other stuff. It's mindless and easy, just like TV. It doesn't require me to tune into myself and be present.

Why is it so hard to do the things we know are good for us? Why do we have to push ourselves to go to the gym, or work on a project that we're really passionate about?

Maybe it's partly the fear of failure, and partly the comfort of the normal routine. Most people don't live in a constant state of zen, where we are in tune with our bodies and spirit. In order to do the things we know are good for us, like exercise or meditate, it takes work to change our state of mind and being. We have to make a conscious effort to go inward and listen to what our body and our original mind is telling us.

The goal of course, is that if you do this long enough it becomes easier and eventually routine itself. But I have a suspicion that even then it's not the fantasy, magical state we might imagine. Because there is no such thing as arriving, there is no destination, only the journey. There will always be hills to climb and storms to weather, practice just helps us climb faster and reminds us to bring our umbrella.

I used to be a rockstar: Part 2

That's me about four months pregnant! I was so dedicated back then ;)


There is a difference between creative fields and other areas of work or study. If you want to be a teacher, you go to school and you take a test to get your certificate. If you want to be a doctor, you do a lot more school and tests, along with residencies and internships. There is a certain protocol that you must follow in order to have that MD or PhD appear at the end of your name. But if you are a musician, or a writer, or a painter (even if you actually study it professionally), at what point do you get to take on that title?

When I was pursuing music, I thought that I had to get somewhere before I could call myself a "real musician". I had to put out an album, or sign a label, or be doing a certain amount of gigs every week.

Our culture is based so much on "what you do". It's often the first question you are asked when you meet someone. I remember always feeling uncomfortable with this, because I felt like I was being defined by that and yet it didn't feel true to who I was. I remember a certain fear too, of being able to say, "I'm a singer-songwriter". I was always afraid that people would think I was naive, that behind their smiles they were thinking, "yeah right, that's not a real job." I felt like I had to prove myself, give a list of the places I had played recently, or have a copy of a demo cd that I could hand them. Putting "Singer-Songwriter" on my linked in page a couple of years ago was no small gesture for me.

It took a long time for me to realize that what you do is not who you are, and who you are is not just about what you do. If you are a writer, you write, if you are a singer, you sing. If you are a painter, you paint. There are no fancy degrees that will give you the title, and it doesn't matter if anyone else agrees with you or not. How you make money is not who you are, and if you never make any money at what you're passionate about, that doesn't mean it isn't a part of who you are.

When I started to act from a place of being instead of lack (like I was trying to get to a certain status I hadn't reached yet), that's when things really started to blossom. I felt a certain calm too, I was able to slow down and enjoy the process, instead of always wishing to be at that final destination, whatever I thought that may look like at the time.

So my "part two" story is some advice for anyone aspiring to the creative arts: Stop trying to be, and start being. I suppose it's good advice for anyone. Even a medical student, if it's who you are, then you don't need the piece of paper to start feeling like a doctor. (not saying you should go into surgery tomorrow, but you get the idea!) It's already there, you just haven't accessed it yet.

The Buddha says, "we are what we think". When we change our thinking, the universe will conform itself to you.

There is also no rule that says you can only ever be one thing. Our passions change, we change, things may go out of our lives, they may or may not come back. One of my biggest musical influences, Joni Mitchell, was also a painter. She used to go through periods of writing music, and then go back to painting. Though she was never as well known for her art, it was something that she loved and I'm sure by acknowledging that part of herself, it made her music better as well.

We are all called to different things, not all of us can be painters or musicians, most of us will never be famous. But if we follow our dreams and don't get stopped by fear, we can do great things, because we already are great.

In it together

On Friday I had a spontaneous adventure to meet up with my best friends for one of their birthdays. It was a long drive with two small kids, and I was taking Advil all day for my back and neck pain from the car accident. Still, it was one of those opportunities I felt like I just couldn't miss.

The trip did not go as planned, first, I left half an hour late. Then, I accidentally went through an ez-pass lane because I forgot I didn't have it in my rental car. Several wrong turns, a couple stops (one on the side of the road) so that Miles could go to the bathroom. But we made it there and back in pretty decent shape.

The thing that struck me most, was how calm I was. I usually tend to get stressed out, especially on long car rides with the kids. But there was one noticeable difference: My husband wasn't with me. When I'm by myself, I just roll with the situation and make the best of it, but when I'm with him, it's like he becomes a magnet for any little frustration and we fall into this dynamic where I start getting worried or annoyed about the situation, and he reassures me and calms me down. It made me think about how we often take things out on the people we love when they don't deserve it. I realized that many times, just his mere presence gives me an excuse to blame someone else or an object to vent my frustration on, instead of dealing with it. It's so easy and tempting to do, and yet, when I was alone in the car with the kids and had no one to turn to, I just took it in stride.

Yesterday was Father's Day, and even though the kids were cranky and I was exhausted, I let my husband take a good three hour nap. I thought, if I can recognize when I am getting frustrated or putting blame on him then maybe I can learn to take things in stride and relax when he's with me too. How much better could our relationship be if I were able to do that? What kind of new dynamic could we create? Old habits are hard to break, but I'm going to try and be a little less dramatic whenever my husband makes a wrong turn or forgets to take out the garbage. After all, we're in this together.

Safe and Sound

The boys after a long day

I know you may have been expecting the follow-up post to my previous one, and that's what I was expecting to write, but life, as it does, threw me a curve ball. So I'm just going to go with it.

Yesterday we were in a car accident. We were hit on the side by a driver who ran a stop sign through the intersection. The kids were in the car, as well as my mom who was visiting from Pennsylvania. It was scary, but no one was hurt. Everyone was wearing seat belts and the kids were strapped into the car seats. The other driver was apologetic, (I can't imagine what he must have felt like hitting a whole family full of crying kids!) I've been lucky to have not been involved in many accidents in my life, and so if it had to happen, I couldn't have asked for better luck.

Thank goodness we were driving a big minivan instead of our old little ford focus that we traded in only a few months ago. Thank goodness that we bought top of the line car seats for the kids, and the airbags and safety features of our car did what they were supposed to do.

It's a big headache, it's stressful, I have a sore neck and bruise on my collarbone. I've been on the phone with insurance, rental car, and tow service for more time than I would like, and the paper work is never ending. Still, my strongest feeling is of gratitude. I'm thankful that we came out of it relatively unscathed. I was grateful that my mom was there, not that she was involved in the accident, but for her help and moral support. Miles got to ride in an ambulance, and the kids played with a tennis ball in the lobby of the police station while we waited for our ride (thanks Baba!)

This morning I went to pick up our rental, luckily it's close by so I just walked there while my husband watched the kids (thanks for helping and going in late to work!) It's unusually cool for June, but I've kind of been digging the rainy weather. It feels refreshing, and it reminds me of summer camp and the countryside that I grew up in. The smell of wet earth and grass somehow always brings me back to that relaxing space. It was nice to get out and walk. I don't know when the last time was that I got to take a walk by myself with just my thoughts. It's a nice way to start the day, even if under not the greatest of circumstances. While walking, I remembered something that I learned while living in Rome during college: Umbrella-sidewalk etiquette. The streets are so narrow that when it rains and everyone is carrying umbrellas, the person who is taller has to lift their umbrella so that the other person can pass underneath. It's an unspoken, quirky little dance, but it made me smile to think of it.

Life goes on, things happen, and we get through. It's not what happens, but how we deal with it that matters. We can either complain about the rain, or dance in it.

I used to be a rock star: part 1

Yesterday the family and I ventured into Manhattan for the Lovin' Life church service at 34th St. I'm always flattered and a little amazed when people come up to me and say that they miss seeing me on stage, since it's been over two years (wow!) since I've been a regular performer there. To say that I left to have another baby and spend more time with my family is true, and the main answer I usually give. But it's not the whole story.

Music has always been a part of my life. From a very young age I remember making up songs and just loving to sing. There was a time when I felt very strongly that this was what I was supposed to do with my life. I feel like all of the things I did before lead me to that stage at the Grand Ballroom. I learned a lot there in a very brief time. I had some wonderful mentors and teachers who I am very grateful for, and the other band and chorus members are amazing, wonderful, talented people who I consider dear friends. The biggest lessons I learned though were not about music. Looking back on it, I feel like it was very literally a spiritual boot camp. I felt like I was stretched to my limits and grew more in that one year than any other time in my life.

You always hear celebrities say that it's hard work, and we often probably don't believe them. Because look at their lives! Huge houses, fancy clothes, everything looks so glamorous on the outside. But the life of show business, the cost of being in the public eye, is to constantly put yourself up for judgement. The part you don't see is an ego busting, very un-glamorous, emotional roller coaster. And you live with that cost because you love the work. Forgive me for comparing myself to a celebrity! I don't mean to sound arrogant. I only had a little peak at the fame monster, the pressures, the insecurities, and what it takes to live that lifestyle. For me, that was enough. For this reason I'm always a little sensitive about tabloid stories or celebrity gossip, because I imagine what it would be like to have my whole life laid out at the mercy of the masses.

Without getting too personal, I can say that when I started it was with a heart of sincere offering. But at a certain point, when the stress began to interfere with what I felt was most important, my family, I knew that it was no longer an offering, but a duty. Something I was doing for everyone else, because I felt like it was expected of me. Which in the end doesn't serve anyone. That was when I knew it was time to move on. It wasn't always easy, but it was the right decision for me. Sure I miss performing sometimes. Especially when I go back and see familiar faces on stage, or hear the songs that I used to sing. I feel like that time period in my life served a certain purpose, and once I learned the lessons, I didn't need it anymore. The question used to be if I could do it, could I make it as a performer? I know now that if I wanted to I could, I know what it takes. But for right now, I've chosen a different path. Music will always be a big part of my life, and nothing is ever lost completely, perhaps the universe will send it back my way again. For now I'm perfectly happy singing silly songs and lullabies. I'm grateful for the experience, and humbled by my supporters and fans. You are the reason I sacrificed sleep and sanity for so long. And I mean that in a good way!

In Memory of Japan

AP Photo/The Oregonian, Thomas Boyd


A couple of days ago, the first peice of debris from the Japanese Tsunami washed up on shore in Oregon. A 70-foot concrete dock journeyed roughly 5,000 miles across the pacific, with native Japanese starfish and other various forms of life, clinging to the wreckage. Just the journey itself must have been harrowing, not even taking into account the reason for it's departure.

Two things struck me when watching the footage of kids taking pictures and scientists scrapping off and bagging organisms.

First: The juxtaposition of wonder, excitement, curiosity, and the knowledge of the tragedy that brought it here. What a dynamic symbol of our interconnected world too, that something that happens thousands of miles away affects all of us. It's like being witness to a modern day Pompeii. A whole town, without any warning, completely decimated. Now, only a year later, the little clues and pieces become a part of history. A relic of another world.

Second: It was a reminder that we are never guaranteed tomorrow. That in the blink of an eye, everything you have can be gone. There is nothing like a natural disaster to remind us of our own mortality, and thus, our shared humanity. No science, no magic pill, can ever guarantee us more time. I expect that most of us, at least in the first world, have the idea that we will live well into our seventies at least, with grandchildren running around our feet. And isn't that a lovely picture. But tomorrow there could be a tornado, or a car accident, or even a heart attack. That's not to say that we should live in fear, as if death is lurking around every corner. But let it be a reminder to appreciate the time that we have, to make the most of it, to chose to be happy, to chose to focus on the things that matter.

And never forget to appreciate the people you love, because they are not guaranteed tomorrow either.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. For the chance to be alive, however long it may be. We are not promised quantity, but we can do something about the quality.

sugar for the soul

If you've been watching the news, especially here in the tri-state area, you know about the proposed ban on sugary drinks larger than 16 oz being sold in New York City. I understand Mayor Bloomberg's concerns. Obesity is a huge epidemic in this country, and those gigantic sodas are certainly not helping. Does the government have a right to regulate things for the greater good of the people? Should citizens be allowed to exercise their freedom of choice even to their own harm? It's a text book constitutional debate. If I were a civics teacher, it would make a perfect classroom debate topic.

I don't drink soda much, and whenever I happen to get a drink from a fast food place, I'm usually horrified at the size of my drink and that they actually have the audacity to call it a "small". The ban really would not affect me personally, I would be happy to have a 12 oz soda on the rare occassion that I consume it. Politics aside though, I think we've missed the point completely.

Obesity is a problem, but in my humble opinion, a ban on large soft drinks is not going to fix it.

People already know that sugar in large quantities can lead to obesity, increased risk of heart disease, diabetes, and any number of other conditions. We know that it's not healthy to eat fast food everyday, or to super size our drinks. We know that eating right and exercise is the key to a healthy life. There is no shortage of information out there. The problem is, that people don't make decisions based on information or even reason. They do it based on emotion. I read an interesting article a few months back on how this plays out politically. The author, who I believe was some sort of psychologist, said that people actually vote based mostly on their feelings and emotions first, and then later come up with reasons and rational that support those feelings. This is why the reasoning of one party seems completely irrational to the other, because it's actually not about reason at all. It's also why people tend to be concerned more with social issues like abortion and gay marriage than with things like the economy or jobs. Not everyone would agree with this assessment, but it raises an interesting point.

Whenever you hear about drug addicts or alcoholics, you hear the phrase, "they have to WANT to change." No amount of lecturing, pleading, or government regulation is going to do any good, unless the person decides for themselves that they have a problem and want help.

In the United States, we are addicted to instant gratification, to consumption, to the need for material wealth, the pursuit of fame. But all of that is just a way to cover up our own feelings of inadequacies. If we really believed that we were worth it, maybe we would put down that cigarette. If we believed that we were valuable, maybe we wouldn't have to chase money and fame to convince ourselves of our worth. If we believed that we deserved to be healthy and that our bodies were temples, maybe we would think twice about what we put in it.

There is an obesity epidemic. But the bigger problem is the spiritual epidemic. I'm not talking about religion. I'm talking about the part in all of us that we've tried so hard to medicate away, to numb, to avoid, but that is screaming to be free. We know how to nourish our bodies, but we forgot to nourish our souls. Our pain gives us empathy. Our emotions give us passion. Our failures give us lessons. In finding a way to push out the uncomfortable or negative feelings, we miss out on the gift.

I don't have all of the answers. I can not give you a quick fix solution. There is no congressional bill, no amount of money, no scientific research, that will be able to fill in that deficit. The only way is to consistently wake up to ourselves, to peel away the layers, until we don't need those external things to make us feel good in the moment.

We need to tell ourselves and somehow be told over and over again,

You are worth it.

You are valuable.

You are loved.

No amount of sugar can match that. Let's start chasing THAT high, and see if things start to turn around, no ban necessary.

The best laid plans...survival guide for a sick day

Miles is sick today. The worst kind of sick, not so sick that he is sleeping all day, just sick enough to not go to school, be cranky all day, but still run around.

::sigh::

So much for grocery shopping, or any of the other plans I made for today. But that's just the way life is, especially as a parent. You have to be ready to let go and embrace whatever is thrown at you. Suddenly the baby doesn't want to take a morning nap?! aye...It's going to be a long one.

So today I will share my tips for getting through those days when it all gets thrown out the window. (I'll be checking back often to remind myself!)

1. Do something you've been procrastinating on- It always feels good to check something off the to-do list, even if it's not what you had originally planned. Today I'm going to make a call about a medical bill that I keep forgetting about.

2. Make a game out of cleaning up- If nothing else gets done, at least you have a clean house, and it keeps the kids busy for awhile if you get them involved in organizing the toys.

3. Treat yourself- Nothing like an extra cup of coffee or a fresh batch of chocolate chip muffins to keep you going.

4. Slow down- It's okay if you don't get the dishes done or the laundry folded. Errands can wait, even if it means eating ramen noodles for dinner. Today I will try to enjoy just snuggling and watching a movie (even if it's the one we've seen 100+ times).

5. The stand-bys- Lots of juice, chicken soup (heavy on the garlic!), and Tylenol (which sometimes has the extra benefit of sleepiness).

6. Go to bed early- Start the bedtime routine an hour or half hour earlier than normal. If you're lucky, you might just have some extra time in the evening for yourself...or some extra time for sleep from the exhausting day!

Anyone else have some good tips for the dreaded sick day?

There's no place like home

A friend confided in me recently that she sometimes looks at real estate listings and just dreams about someday owning that "dream house". I told her that I often do the same thing. I imagine it's something that a lot of us do. Whether it's a house, a car, or a new job, we imagine the possibility; what it would be like if we had that new thing. It's part of our culture, the "American Dream", and to some extent probably an innate part of human beings. We always tend to look towards the future and think that the grass is greener. It's good to dream, and it's good to have goals. But we must be careful not to think that those things will make us happy. It's the mistaken belief that happiness itself is a destination, that someday, if we have all of the right things, we will arrive there.

After perusing the apartment listings on craigslist, or the local real estate pages, suddenly, my cozy little apartment feels claustrophobic, messy, and just lacking. If only I had that sprawling backyard with a swing set, or the kitchen with granite counter tops, then I could be satisfied. But that's the trick, if we are always looking at what we don't have, then we will never be satisfied, because we will always need something more. And that magic place we are trying to arrive at called "happiness", just gets farther and farther away.

I recently joined Pinterest, the site where you can share and pin pictures of things you like, and I imediately became overwhelmed with this sort of feeling. It is so easy to become addicted to the pursuit of material things, and to gather up collections of things that we think will make us happy; put them in a folder called, "what if..", "someday", or "when I win the lottery". We can get so caught up in the idea of tomorrow that we forget to be grateful for today, the place where our dreams and passions are actually created.

Our minds are conditioned to compare and judge, even to our own detriment. So if we must compare ourselves to others, why not think about those less fortunate, and be grateful that we have a bed to sleep in, a roof over our heads, and most importantly, a family to share it with...however cramped we may be sleeping all in one room.

There are days that I feel helpless, like the idea of owning a home is impossible given our financial situation and the state of the economy. But it's when I remember to be grateful for what I already have, that I have hope for my dreams, while reminding myself at the same time that I don't need those things to be happy. I can create happiness right here, right now, through gratitude.

Like Dorthy in "The Wizard of OZ", I had the power all along. Just click your heals together. "There's no place like home."