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 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!