The Power of Music

I was talking to a man yesterday about learning the piano and we got to discussing the passing of our parents. He said, "I'm an orphan." I said, "So am I. But we'll always have music." It sounded a little trite, hollow, incomplete. I had to think about it. I realized that embracing music is embracing God. God works through music, creativity, and art. And, no matter how many loved ones we say good-bye to, we will always have God.

I'm not going to preach. The power of music in my life is not limited to the church or any specific religion or belief system. I'll preach some other time. Music as the hand of God crosses all boundaries and human opinions. Just like love does. Two specific examples come to mind.

The first is the musical part of my relationship with my dear friend, Cece. We met in college and music was a huge part of our lives. In those days we listened to Donna Summer, James Taylor, Billy Joel, and Paul Anka. (yes, Paul Anka!) We put on the albums when we went to sleep (we shared a dorm room) and listened to them all night. Yes, albums. Yes, we had an actual record player. But I digress. I had no religious faith to speak of, and Cece was raised Jewish. We wrote poems. I became a songwriter. I found my faith. Cece became ill with cancer in 2005. So did her husband. Her husband passed away within a few months, and Cece was concerned about their teenage daughter. Cece fought lung cancer for four years before she passed away in 2009. Her daughter was 17, and an orphan. One of Cece's dreams was to write a song with me. Two months before she passed, she visited me (she lived in Flagstaff, and I'm in Cali) and I composed some music for her to put words to. I didn't know what she wanted to write. She wrote a song for her daughter. Bob and I recorded it for her. I don't know how I ever sang it. I can't sing it now without sobbing. That's how powerful the emotion of that song is. The song will live forever, and expresses love in a way nothing else could. If that's not the hand of God, I don't know what is. Listen to the video and see how it affects you.

The second example is my musical friendship with the late Alan O'Day. He used music to express all kinds of emotions -- love, lust, shyness, frustration, concern for humanity, etc. He wrote "Rock 'n Roll Heaven" about rockers who have passed away forming a big rock band in heaven. He wrote about a mentally unstable girl named Angie who kept a boy locked in her room. "It's so nice to be insane, no one asks you to explain." He expressed his desire for a soul mate in "Undercover Angel" with the words "...answer to my prayer. You made me know that there's a love for me out there somewhere." He had a strong spirit, but did not proclaim a specific faith. After watching a friend nearly die due to addiction, he wrote these words, "Guide me, give me eyes to see that it's not about me anymore. I just want to be yours. Guide me Lord."

Alan was commercially and financially successful. But he was so much more than that. He helped those in need, shared his talent to brighten others' lives, and took his light into dark places. Every year he participated in a holiday caroling event in convalescent homes. This year Alan is being honored by the field representative for California State Senator Fran Pavley in recognition of his outstanding love, care, and dedication extended on behalf of making the world a better place through music. In the words of the press release, "Alan celebrated love and life through the gift of music and entertained, ministered to, and performed for audiences for many decades all over the world. This includes the senior residents, care-givers, and participants for 15 years at the annual Los Angeles Caroling Festivities."

Through music, God uses us to make the world a better place. Thank you for blessing me, and so many others, with this invaluable gift.

Subconscious Humor

Have you ever tried to be funny and failed? My typical back-pedaling line is "that was funnier in my head." But sometimes I'm successfully funny. I was talking to a fellow female singer who was uncomfortable when people whisper to each other while she's singing. You're pouring your heart out in song and people whisper, glaze, look unaffected, or whatever. It can be distracting. I told her I've been there -- and you never know what they are thinking. I've watched people just stare with a bored expression while I'm singing. Then they come up after the event and say, deadpan, "that was great." And I want to say "tell your face!" When I told her that story, she spit coffee. Truly. I love those moments. Any day that I make someone spit coffee is a good day. Unless I do it without trying. I have a gift for subconscious, unfiltered, unintended humor. So here is my most notorious story.

On a nice sunny weekend back in the late '80s I stepped on a bee in a friend's yard. Lo and behold, I am allergic to bee stings and my foot swelled up and big red streaks traveled up my entire leg. I went to the doctor and it took a long time to heal. It was so bad that I had to use crutches to go to work. So I was in the elevator with an employee who just happened to be in a wheelchair. He had no use of his legs and limited use of his hands. He was a kind-spirited soul with a good sense of humor. His name was Craig. He asked what happened to my leg. Sheepishly, I said "I got stung by a bee." We had a bit of a chuckle before exiting the elevator.

A few weeks later, I was again in the elevator with Craig, and I was no longer on crutches. Settling in for a ride to the 16th floor, he asked how my bee sting was healing. I said, "at least I'm walking." Yep, that's what I said. In the elevator with no way to escape. It was a very quiet ride. And slow. Seemed to last years.

It's kind of like saying to a blind person "you should have seen that!" You don't realize what you are saying. You don't mean to be insensitive or hurtful. It just pops out from some brain cells that put it together and hope the wiser brain cells will catch it and reformat. But the inappropriate words bypass the filter and just come right out the mouth into someone's ears. Why can't that be the moment when you're graced with ambient noise that causes them to say "huh?" and give you a chance to regroup and rephrase? It NEVER works that way.

I've had many of those moments, but have gracefully forgotten most of them. I had one last night. There's too much context needed to share it. I just filed it under the category of "when on the spot, I tell the truth." Then, quickly change the subject. Or walk away (unless you're on crutches, then limp away) I guess the lesson is that it's okay to take a beat before you speak. Give the "higher self" brain cells a chance to come to the party. Then the unintentional sick humor can be enjoyed in the privacy of your own mind. That is a much better place than in an elevator!

Striving for Peace

Just the phrase "striving for peace" hits me as an oxymoron. If I'm striving, how can I be peaceful? If I ask myself honestly what success means to me, it means having a character that brings light into the world and reflects the good. If I'm emotionally reactive, grumpy, depressed, or otherwise dark inside my soul, I'm furthering darkness and not light. Success also means putting love into everything I do and everyone whose life I touch. This is not easy when you were raised with no chores and a maid. How do I put love in to mopping the floor? I've never really made friends with chores. Making a choice to put love into them does not come naturally. But what is the alternative? Resenting them? Who does that hurt? Me. And it's okay not to do every chore all the time. Allow a little imperfection in life. The dirt hurts me a lot less than my resentment -- or my quest for the unattainable perfection I somehow picture in my head. Success is a healthy spirit.

This was not modeled for me by my dad. Right now I am fighting my daddy's demons. Impatience. Perfectionism. Internal expectation to succeed financially. Efficiency -- take the shortest route from A to B. Leave early so you don't hit traffic (then stress when you do anyway). Try to time the traffic lights (then curse when someone else's driving messes it up). Get angry anytime you have to wait. Believe that you did everything you were supposed to so that life would go a certain way and blame God that He did not deliver. And when the resentment is about to boil over, have a few drinks and behave however you feel like. This is not to criticize my father. It is to "call a thing a thing" and learn from it rather than just going along with my early programming -- which is still amazingly strong. My father's father traveled a lot, and I don't think he spent much time with my dad. My dad learned that achieving got him attention and made everyone happy. He became a super achiever, attending Harvard University at age 16 and getting A+'s in math. Math is nice. It always works out. But then WWII happened, and his plans changed. Finances deviled him. My only example of watching him solve problems was when he helped me with my math homework. He was great at it. But day-to-day life problems were not handled calmly. He reacted with anger and I responded with fear. This is one reason I feel so strongly about the importance of the spirit in our lives. My heavenly Father is my ultimate Father, and I can follow His example. He can give me peace when the world is taunting me. He can fill me with light to get me through the darkness. He supercedes my earthly father. He is bigger than the alcohol, the anger, the resentment, and the impatience that I too struggle with.

I am still sensitive and I naturally respond with fear in the face of anger. And I am tempted to respond with anger and resentment when life is not fair. These are the forces of darkness that threaten my success. The war between darkness and light is not mine to win, but the battles inside my own mind are mine to face up to. I can't keep a bird from landing on my head, but I can keep it from building a nest in my hair. I am human and I am not impervious. I feel it when someone is mean. But my feelings can't run the show. They can run to God, and to my spirit, and we can decide together how to respond. We can learn. We can invite the lesson. And we can shake off the bad stuff we did not cause and can't fix. I'm not the master of the universe. God is. I can be the master of my thoughts. Even when things go wrong. Even when my hopes are crushed. I always have a choice. And, when I truly live each moment, I can remember that.

Facing "that thing"

Some of you knew exactly what I mean by "that thing" because you have one too. Those who don't get it, just go thank God. For the rest of us, you know, that "thing" that keeps you up at night, that gets under your bones and stabs at your soul. That "thing" that you want so bad and keep hitting brick walls as you try to achieve it. It could be losing 10 lbs., or 100+ lbs. It could be that you want a life partner and you keep meeting a series of Mr. or Miss Wrongs. People ask you what you're doing to attract this in your life. They try to help. They give advice. Or they are truly confounded and say things like "I'm just so lucky I met my soul mate and we are rapturously happy with very little effort." Or "I'm just naturally thin, and I've never had to work at it." Or "It was easy to build my practice. A friend retired and gave me all of her clients. I never had to cold call or advertise."

In my case, it's career fulfillment. Actually, it's income. We all need it. God knows we need it. God promises to provide. He has kept His promise. Just not the way I prefer -- with my earning enough money to take care of all my responsibilities. When more money goes out than comes in, hard decisions must be made every day. The obvious solution is to work toward earning more income. Get a job. Grow a business. So you swing the bat. You miss. You keep the faith and keep swinging. You try a different bat. A different sport. And before you know it you are lost in too many options and variables with no idea which one is going to get results. It's a loop I've been in for nearly two years.

If you are in this loop in any area of your life, you know what I mean. And just knowing someone knows what I mean is helpful. That's one reason I write this blog. I know I'm not the only one feeling what I feel. And what are those feelings? Discouraged. Frustrated. Confused. A very sore head from hitting closed doors.

Feelings aren't everything. Wallowing in them is not productive. But they serve a purpose, and probably a number of purposes. They keep you humble. They give us compassion for others. Pain acts as sort of a heart tenderizor. It deepens my faith. Who's going to love me in this unattractive state? God will. He does. I know that. But he doesn't give me everything I want when I want it. He makes me wait. He tells me "no" sometimes. He truly works in mysterious ways. I do not understand, but I hold onto my faith. And I pray.

So how do you pray about "that thing" you've been praying about for a long time? My prayers start with gratitude for what I have. I pray for guidance. I pray for courage and strength. I pray for knowledge of God's will and the power to carry it out. Maybe I don't see the value in the "non-thing things" I do like care for my home, my husband, my animals, loved ones and friends. It's hard to remember that vacuuming has value. Maybe cleaning can bring clarity. Maybe music will help bring harmony. Maybe "the thing" needs less attention rather than more. I don't know. So I pray. I vacuum. I clean. And I sing. None of those things has ever financially supported me. But maybe doing them has supported others. Every day I can do something that shows love to someone else. Then maybe one day, I'll have been so immersed in loving others that I will look around and find "that thing" has resolved itself.

Here's to Harmony

The words “in harmony with humanity” have been going through my head. I think of them as I take a walk, call people, and just observe others throughout the day.

It’s so easy to judge. So easy to think “what a jerk,” or “such bad manners,” or even worse, pity someone. Pity is sooooo arrogant.

We watch TV and see the beautiful people with scripted lines and sculpted bodies and we subliminally interpret that as “normal” and “acceptable.” Like thinking people on the beach should look like the actors on Baywatch or something. Then you go to the beach and wonder what happened.

Being in harmony means adjusting our expectations. Looking beneath the surface. And realizing what we see is just a small part of the whole. I try to remember that someone who cuts me off on the road may be in a hurry to an ill loved one’s side. Or the checker who moves slowly may have been up all night with a crying baby. Even the lady in the park talking on her phone while her dog runs loose and terrorizes others may have a story. Or not. But she’s a human being who is more than her momentary irresponsible behavior. My being irritated at her only agitates me. I get the ulcer, not her.

My being at peace with imperfection is a much healthier state of mind and body. And it’s my choice, day by day, moment by moment. Digest the beauty. Spit out the ugly. Love unconditionally. God is watching. And He is on our side.

Memorable Musical Moments

I can’t imagine what my life would have been like without music in my heart. My mother played piano, harp, and violin, and I’m sure I heard music while in the womb. Now, there are studies that show the value of hearing music even before you are born.

I had my hands on the piano keys before I could walk. And, I probably sang before I could talk.

I took traditional piano lessons, but I was not patient with note reading. It was much quicker to watch the teacher’s hands and play by ear. I took guitar lessons and learned to read chords. From then on, I could express myself musically, and I only read notes when I had to.

My most memorable concert experience was seeing Elton John when I was 14. He ROCKED that piano! I bought sheet music and learned his songs note-for-note. I will confess that I am also a Barry Manilow fan (in this video I am playing Barry's song, "Ready to Take a Chance Again"), and I love Neil Sedaka. Y’all don’t know what you are missing! Them boyz can whip those chords around like a cotton candy machine!

In 1992, I entered a contest to sing the "National Anthem" at Dodger Stadium, and I won! That experience led me to meeting Denny Martin, a local music producer, and recording songs in his studio. He was “instrumental” in teaching me how to write my own songs. He moved his studio to Nashville, and I have loved recording with him there. The musicians collaborate and “play” off of each other. The process is very organic. And I learned expressions like “y’all” and “throw it in the deep fryer.” Somehow I became a country singer-songwriter. I guess God gave this California girl a twanger. But that does NOT mean that the songs I write are "three chords and a cloud of dust."

Denny introduced me to #1 hit songwriter, the late, great Alan O’Day of "Undercover Angel," "Angie Baby," and "Rock 'n Roll Heaven" fame, and I had the privilege of writing songs, taking piano lessons, and performing live with him. I carry his legacy forward with a renewed passion for music and a desire to encourage others to follow their musical dreams.

My husband (Bob) was my band partner for many years before we were a couple. We make music together. It brought us together and it keeps us together. And, I was just reminded today that Alan O’Day sang “At Last” for our “first dance” song. I’ll post that video one day. It’s still too soon after Alan’s passing last May for me to watch it without going into the ugly cry.

My mom and I taught my children songs on the piano. Now I teach my grandchildren. My two-year-old grandson is already composing. Ok, it’s kind of banging and making dragon sounds, but it’s a very impassioned start!

Music has been more than a lifelong companion for me. It has been a place I can retreat to when the real world is stressing me out. Music is where everything makes sense. Like any long-term relationship, sometimes it’s work. But mostly it’s a little butterfly on my shoulder reminding me, “I’m still here.” I hear you. Ok music, you have my attention. And I’m going to share you with everyone who is open to having you in his or her life.

Life requires us to take chances. Are you ready? You get what you get when you go for it! Here’s to the next step on this harmonious journey. Let's take it together!

Here's to the Whole Chicken

I think too much of my world view is formed by Facebook. Less so from TV, as I can discern pretty quickly what is going to drag me down. The black-and-white political posts on Facebook show that people care about this country, and they are passionate about fighting for it. How did that turn into fighting each other? Can we fight for our country and love each other at the same time? There must be a more loving alternative to all this right-and-left bashing.

No matter who our president is, there are many who believe he is corrupt and coming from ego, not love. A well-known blogger and author, Jim Altucher, checked into what it takes to run for a political office and could find no way to persevere without being false or lying in some way. In my experience, I've seen that in people who succeed in corporations too.

Books, movies, and television shows are rich with stories about the rare person of character who craftily navigates a sea of sharks to altruistically embody a position of power. We love underdogs who won't sacrifice their character. But how does that play out in real life? Do we really know our politicians? We know what they say, something about their behavior, how they vote, and what state our country is in. People are suffering and we want someone to blame.

I believe most Americans want to make this country better and are willing to sacrifice for the sake of the whole. I believe most of these bashing Facebook posts come from anger at injustice. We used to rely on the media to give us the facts. Now we have a much harder time getting at the truth. And it's frustrating. That is fuel for the bash-fest.

I wonder if any of these political Facebook posts have swayed anyone's opinion. I doubt it. So they say "here's where I stand."

Well, here's where I stand. I love my country. I love my fellow Americans. I believe in honesty, compassion, and respect for life. I believe in doing my part by working hard to get the facts and voting accordingly. People who do not do that, and rely on the media to inform them, are likely to be misled.

I like how one of my Facebook friends put it. "I'm not right-wing or left-wing; I'm for the whole chicken." Indeed.

What are you really saying?

I went to a new doctor yesterday and I was uncomfortable with how our conversation went. It got me to thinking about things people say, questions they ask, and why they are asking. In essence: Manners 101.

A few examples from yesterday. The doctor asked me to stand on the scale. I don't care to weigh myself right now and I don't want to know. Why? None of your business. (what I should have said) Instead, I stood with my back to the scale and said "would you please not tell me my weight? I don't want to know." I think he made a comment about me not being fat, but I'm not sure. Then he said,"you do appreciate how you look, right?" Huh? What was he really saying? Was he complimenting me? Was he concerned that I might be anorexic or have a distorted body image? I took the bait and said "yes, it's just that my weight has fluctuated lately and I don't want to know." I wish I'd said "why do you ask?" Must I justify a simple preference?

Then, he asked me what I do for a living. I had written down "writer," as that is what I've spent the majority of my career doing. That progressed into a discussion about also being a songwriter. He asked if I have made any money at it. (annoying and nosy) He asked how songs get published and suggested ways of promoting songs on the Internet. (thanks, I'm an idiot who needs advice from an objective non-musician who has never written or pitched a song) I gently tried to give him some idea of how it works, and he persisted in suggesting ways to "make it easier" by creating a website on which songwriters would post songs and artists could listen to them. Um, yeah, it exists and it's called "Taxi." When this ignorant, condescending conversation was going nowhere fast, he asked what my husband does. (I don't like that question because it feels like a way of "qualifying" me by what kind of man I caught) When I told him, he dug himself deeper with "oh so he has the more stable job." (implying what, that I'm a slacker?) I said, "he's also a musician." He laughed and said "oh, both of you!" Don't worry doc, I can pay your bill. What was really going on there? I think he is probably a socially challenged person who was trying to get to know me and stepped in every pothole possible. I don't think he meant any harm. But oh how I wish Miss Manners could have been there to instruct him on basic social graces. They can be learned! Now I'm glad that I didn't have to disrobe for this exam. I don't think that would have gone well at all.

One more example. I had a horrible job that I knew was not going to work from day one. I left after a week. Here's what not to say about that. "I guess you have the luxury of quitting since your husband has a job." What??? How do you know what my options are? Maybe I'm a closet millionaire. Maybe I have such faith that I believe I don't deserve abuse and God will make it right financially. And, are my finances any of your business? No. A more gracious response would be 1) empathy (how disappointing) and 2) support (I'm sure there is another opportunity for you). Even laughter would be ok -- as in "wow, there are sure some crazy people out there!"

I don't know people's motives. And what they think of me and why is none of my business. But I wonder if people are aware of what they are putting out there. There are other options besides zeroing in on my status or giving me unrequested advice. Go easy. Share a similar story of your own. Ask what kind of food I like. Ask if I have any fun plans for the summer. Tell me about a new activity, or store, or restaurant in an effort to be helpful. These are all warm and safe topics.

And one more thing while I'm on this rant. When a person states a preference, don't flat out disagree. "Oh, I hate Clint Eastwood movies." In a new relationship you are trying to find common ground, not debate. It makes you look insecure. Like you have to claim your power, position, and be "right" from the beginning. It sets up conflict. It does not make you look strong. Grace and restraint make you look strong.

I can't speak for the doctor, but the "warm and safe topics" hold if his motive was to build a rapport. I have another doctor who told me to be sure to get a massage after my mammogram, offering that his wife found a 50% off coupon on TravelZoo. That was helpful! My response? I suggested he offer to buy massages for his patients. Touche! Maybe I was a little brazen, but I felt we had a rapport and I could mess with him a little. After all, he had just investigated me thoroughly (ugh). And, during that process, he had commented on how sparkly I was. It took me a minute to realize he was talking about my toenail polish. Whew, that was a close one!

I guess I was raised to believe that talking about money, religion, politics, and a person's "status" is rude. Maybe not everyone was raised that way. So I'll do my best to demonstrate politeness, till you tick me off. Then I'll invite you to read my blog. Thank you. I feel better now.

Living in Truth is Risky Business

I'd have to say that the best moments of my life have resulted from taking a leap of faith -- a risk to stand on life's stage while the demons of discouragement laughed and threw tomatoes from the seats. The most unhappy moments of my life were often the results of holding back, playing it safe, and not being honest with myself. The ninth commandment (in essence) says "thou shalt not lie." That includes the lies we tell ourselves. And those have added more unhappiness than any lies others may have told me.

An example of a risk worth taking was my foray into singing. I stood on a stage in my 20s and dared to sing at Karaoke night. My knees were shaking. My voice barely came out. I had no idea how to hold or use a microphone. A friend came on stage to help me stay standing. I chose to face that fear. I muscled through. Over time I became more comfortable because I just kept doing it. Soon after, I read in the newspaper that the Conejo Valley Chamber of Commerce was holding a contest, and the winner would sing the National Anthem at Dodger Stadium. Entering the contest required a demo tape of me singing the Anthem and a story about what the Dodgers meant to me. I thought "this is a long shot -- but why not?" A friend at work had a home studio where I recorded the song -- complete with my own piano playing -- in Eb, no less. Writing about the Dodgers was easy as I had attended many games with my family. I could quote players' names, stats, etc. I was sitting at my desk at work when I got the call that I won! I screamed! I panicked! I had to get ready to sing in front of a stadium full of people! I decided I needed a demo tape to hand out if anyone "discovered" me, and a work friend referred me to Denny Martin, a local producer. Denny introduced me to songwriting. And I've loved this singing and songwriting journey I've been on for the past 20 years. All because I took a chance.

The lies I told myself are much more painful to reveal. They were usually reasons I should not take a chance, not step up, or an effort to fit into some role that I was not suited for and not passionate about. I did this a lot in my career. I became a "meet the deadline" adrenaline machine. My soul was lost in edits and rewrites that served the client's ego but not their true goal. I became tangled in a no-win situation. To speak up was career suicide; and not speaking up resulted in resentment. I gave away my power. I wanted all the perks without the responsibility -- without the risk. It used to work. Then, suddenly, it just didn't work anymore.

What makes one person a mailroom clerk and another a vice president? What are all these games people play to climb the corporate ladder? It's exhausting to think about. I do know that whatever role you are in, you can transcend it by putting your unique soul and love into it. I watched Frederee, who was a "maid" by profession, transcend that role into becoming my second mom. I'm sure that required taking risks. She was authentically herself and I instinctively trusted her.

What's the lesson? Taking risks is worth it. Being truthful with yourself keeps your soul's garden healthy and stops the seeds of resentment from taking over. It may not be comfortable. However, in my experience, making comfort the goal is an exercise in frustration. So I bid an official "good bye" to corporate America. You served me well for many years. I met some great people and I gained a plethora of valuable experience. But you are my past. Self-employment is my future. I am a singer, songwriter, writer, and a teacher. God made me this way, and He's got my back. The secret is being brave, and being truthful. No more false self, security seeking, or people pleasing. Just taking one brave step at a time. In love. In truth.

Leggo Your Ego

Who hasn't been the recipient of someone yelling, "Hey! Watch me!" Maybe it's a child about to dive into a pool for the first time. Or the 2001st time. Or Gerald O'Hara in "Gone With the Wind" who yelled to his wife as he prepared to jump a fence on his horse, "Ellen! Watch me take this one!" Then there are the millions of musicians-in-the-making -- those who try out for "American Idol" or "The Voice" and invite you to every performance -- "Hey, watch me!" And "Hey, listen to me!" I want to be seen! I want to be heard! I have something to say! I matter -- please pay attention to me!

Is that what blogging is about? Or writing books? Or telling stories via video on YouTube? What's the difference between ego -- "Hey, tell me I'm cool," and connection -- "Hey, have you ever felt like this?"

When I have wanted to watch people, my motivation has always been connection. Whether it's pasting on a fake smile because I've heard it or seen it 100 times already, or whether I'm truly fascinated by what I am hearing or watching because it resonates with me -- my thought is not a judgmental "Are you any good?" My thought is "I care about you, and what you are communicating matters to me."

This is harder today with so many people having access to my attention. I have to pick and choose. I can't pay attention to everybody. There are too many people. So I "demo" things -- videos, TV shows, songs. At the first impression, I decide if I'm going to add it to my list of things I pay attention to, or pass. It's kind of like dating. My filter is not about quality. It's about what speaks to me (if it's a stranger), and who I want in my life.

I heard a story once about "Joe Special." That's the kid whose parents told him he is more special than anyone else. He cuts in lines. He cuts you off on the freeway. He yells at the waiter. The moral of the story is that instead of telling your child he is more special than anyone else, tell him that he is more special TO YOU than anyone else. Value does not come from how many people think you are special. It does not come from how many Facebook friends you have or Twitter followers you attract. Value is not a numbers game. People who play that game look like the guy with the earphones spinning the sign on the street corner. They are seeking popularity. It's not value. It's ego.

I don't want to be that person. I want to be authentically myself. Tell my stories through blogging, songs, and whatever else strikes my fancy. If who I am speaks to you, we connect. If you are an axe murderer or a psychopath, our connection will stay distant. Self-preservation is the first law of nature. I don't have a magic formula for anything. I just have my heart to share. And so do you. I hope by sharing mine, I inspire you to share yours. Speak your truth. Let your voice be heard. Trust in attraction rather than promotion. People love to tell their stories. I, for one, volunteer to listen. To watch. To care. I dare you to put yourself -- not your ego -- out there.

Music, Alan, and Me

If you are an artist, chances are that you are familiar with the struggle between doing your art and being "practical." In a rush of over-practicality a few years ago, I gave some valuable music books of mine to the library. Now I regret it. Still reeling from an unwelcome job layoff, I revisit the idea of making a living making music with cynicism. Ugly words like "as if" and "how old am I?" and "haven't I been to this movie before?" come to mind. That's not the good guy talking. It's discouragement.

And then my mind got a kick in the gut. My dear friend and music mentor of 20 years, Alan O'Day, passed away on May 17 at age 72 from cancer. Even in the midst of battling the disease with grueling chemo and radiation treatments, Alan wrote the title song for a movie ("You Don't Say") and watched his song "Nascar Crazy" finally hit the charts after five years of pitching it. He died at age 72 with a song on the charts and more songs on the shelf. He died too soon. His work was still kicking, and will live on for many years. I'm young (in comparison), healthy, talented, and inspired anew by my friend. He had chutzpa, determination, tenacity, joy, and a giving spirit. He not only encouraged himself, he encouraged others freely and without charge. He never had a "day job." Music was his entire career. Not many of us artist types can say that.

The music was always in me. I started piano lessons in first grade and could always hear when my classmates were off pitch. I took guitar lessons at age 10. I had my first on-stage experience in college and caught the performing bug. I studied acting with Walter Koenig (Star Trek's "Checkov") and chose to sing as part of a classroom exercise. The room went quiet, and I was regaled with praise that I could "really sing." I had no idea. So I took singing lessons. Karaoke singing about knocked me out -- my stage fright was paralyzing. So I stayed with it just to conquer my fear. My first gig was with Greg Barton at the Thousand Oaks Seafood Parlor singing for happy hour. Then I won a contest to sing the "National Anthem" at Dodger Stadium. I decided I should have a "demo tape" on hand, and a coworker referred me to producer Denny Martin. I asked him about songwriting, which I had always wanted to learn, and he took me to workshops, encouraging my efforts with "come on in, the water's fine." Through Denny I met Alan O'Day, and pursued him as a co-writer like the naive little wannabe I was. He was kind, always. We wrote a beautiful song together called "The Other Side." And a friendship was born. We performed together at coffee houses, restaurants, house parties, and clubs in L.A. and Nashville. It was thrilling to sing back up on his hits "Undercover Angel," "Rock 'n Roll Heaven," and "Angie Baby." I recorded his song "Please Don't Believe Me" and he sang back-up for me. Really. Alan O'Day singing back-up for me. And he did it while going through cancer treatment for Melanoma.

Our last gig together was April 29, 2012, at a Methodist church in West L.A. This came about via my gardener, Sam Dote, who was always looking for venues at which Bob and I could share our music. The church was near Alan and Yuka's house, and I suggested we add Alan to our performance. It was magical. Alan told me that day that I seemed to have "a weight" on my soul. I did. Losing my job hit me hard. Had I shared more with him, he probably would have encouraged me to rethink my music. Ever the spiritual encourager, I just wanted him and Yuka to check out that church, hoping it would lead them to Jesus. Their souls were on my heart, just as my artist's soul was on Alan's heart. We looked out for each other. We wanted the best for each other.

During the last weeks of Alan's life, Yuka asked about the minister of that church, Gary Oba. She wanted to know if he would pray for Alan and officiate at the funeral. He did. I'm grateful to have been used to make that connection. I'm especially grateful to Sam Dote for being the conduit by which this connection happened.

What I learned from Alan is that everyone matters. Actually, I learned that from my mom, and Alan reinforced it. The waiter, the pharmacy clerk, your hair stylist, the wanna be singer/songwriter, and your gardener. Alan connected lives. His soul was reachable. He gave freely. He loved life. He helps me remember to kick discouragement in the butt and appreciate life, health, talent, and other people. Thank you Alan. See you in rock 'n roll heaven.

A New Me

I've been reading Eckhart Tolle's "A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life's Purpose." He has much to say about ego. The back cover says "...Tolle shows how transcending our ego-based state of consciousness is not only essential to personal happiness, but also the key to ending conflict and suffering throughout the world. Tolle describes how our attachment to the ego creates dysfunction...and shows readers how to awaken to a new state of consciousness and follow the path to a truly fulfilling existence."

This is not easy reading. I've picked the book up and put it down many times, trying to get into it. But once I'm in, I'm glad I'm in. I'm heartened by the fact that his bio doesn't talk about how many books he has sold, awards he has won, or what celebrities have endorsed him. His bio is uncharacteristically short:

Eckhart Tolle is a contemporary spiritual teacher who is not aligned with any particular religion or tradition. In his writing and seminars, he conveys a simple yet profound message with the timeless and uncomplicated clarity of the ancient spiritual masters. There is a way out of suffering and into peace. Tolle travels extensively, taking his teachings throughout the world. He lives in Vancouver, British Columbia.

This is not "10 Steps to Peace for Dummies." It's about awareness, breaking a thought paradigm, and removing ego-based habits that do not serve us or the greater good. It's about unity, not division. Acceptance, not labels of "right" and "wrong." Removing anger and resentment at the root. Charlie Sheen, this is winning.

The question is, if I am not living an ego-based life, who am I? It's like pruning all the weeds out of your yard and finding out all you have is dirt. I guess it's seed planting time. And my challenge is having the patience to realize the harvest takes time. For awhile, life may be just dirt with seeds underneath. And it's human nature to miss the weeds. They were familiar. They were company. They looked better than dirt.

What is the opposite of ego? I don't know if the book answers that, but my answer is love. Can I live my life in such a way that love will lead to work that pays the bills? I would like that very much. I've made a living in advertising, which often involves selling, bragging, persuading, and prompting people to buy something. Not always. Sometimes it's making people aware of a valuable service that they truly need. Those are the more rewarding endeavors for me. I've also been a singer and songwriter. I've written and sung songs about love and about God. I've also helped people consume alcohol, which is not my favorite thing. The task itself is less important than the motivation. I want my life to be in alignment with the motivation of giving love.

This is a challenging journey, discovering that my ego is not my amigo. It creeps in all over the place. I feel somewhat lost. I identified with things that supported my ego. Now I'm not sure who I am. I guess for now I'm a gardener. I may look like dirt for awhile, but I choose to have faith that the flowers will bloom, I will share them with others, and the Creator will use me to make the world better.

Too much, too fast

I feel like a computer screen that needs to be refreshed many times each day. My mantra is "reframe, reframe, reframe," so that I adjust to each moment without fighting it with my ideas of how it used to be, how it's supposed to be, or how I wish it was.

Much of my overwhelmed feeling is a result of being sick for over a week. I'm finally feeling up to doing normal things, and I'm beyond behind. Frustration is like a flame that can grow into a bonfire with very little oxygen. I am aware that most of my frustration is self-inflicted. That's good news. That means I can choose another perspective.

The 12-step program advises us to live one day at a time. Sometimes for me that means 10 minutes at a time. I am aware of the mindset that expects too much and moves too fast. I just stop and breathe. Reset the expectations. Prioritize. Watch out for rabbit trails. And Facebook is where rabbits run rampant. It's not just the time spent reading people's posts. It's the thought process that those posts provoke. And it's usually something like "I should be doing more of (whatever) and look at how much (whoever) is doing." Not to mention, hmmm, I haven't posted a blog in awhile.

It takes strength of mind to come back from the rabbit trails and focus. Both of my kids are students as well as leading very responsible lives. Their ability to concentrate on improving their minds impresses the tar out of me. I'm not trying anything nearly that ambitious. My focus right now is a healthy mind, body and spirit. If my insides are messed up, my outsides will be as well. So I start with the basics and go from there. It's an inside-out job.

Between job transition and being sick, I feel like I have rolled to the bottom of the canyon. It's a long way back up. And the only way to tackle it is one step at a time.

Maybe it's easier when you have a boss. I am my own boss. Therefore I can change my mind and argue with myself. I don't have someone else's perspective to help me make decisions.

I do know that I need to treat myself the way I would treat anyone I love. With gentleness, kindness, and grace. It won't ALL get done on any given day. Things can change in a flash. The world can be a very confusing place. I'm sure I'm not the only one who is overwhelmed. I will do others the kindness of not trying to project that I have it all together. It feels caring to me to be real and put my humanity out there. We are more than our Facebook posts. Each day is full of many complex thoughts and actions. The important thing is that we have each other. I try to make real eye contact with the people I encounter throughout my day. We are missing that on our computer screens. Bring humanity to every moment you can. Smile, touch, hug, or just say something kind. The most important chores get done somehow.

Ready? Breathe. Feel my cyber hug. Smile. If you read this, we connected human-to-human today. Thank you.

Sexy is here to stay!

I'm sick of writing about work! I want to write about something sexy. Like life. Life can be sexy. It starts with me. We create what we believe. I want to create a sexy life -- and I BELIEVE I can!

Doesn't that sound like "The Secret," or "the law of attraction?" What about God? I'm not the Creator. I have been unclear about such fine differences. I'm clear now. I'm the god of my life -- god with a small g. God with big G and I work together. He can't drive a parked car. So I'm heading for sexy!

Here's what I mean by sexy. I mean doing things that excite me. Now don't get too literal on me. I mean things that make me laugh out loud (like dancing). Singing and performing excite me. And everyone knows that being with Bob excites me. Not just because he's sexy. He is sexy because he is alive inside -- alive with joy, music, and love.

Auntie Mame said "Live, live, live! Life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death." She traveled, met fascinating people, and opened her mind to artists, innovators, and people of all cultures. That's what a sexy life was to her.

Tim Robbins' character in "The Shawshank Redemption" said "get busy living, or get busy dying." He was excited to buy a little hotel in Mexico and take his guests out on boat trips. Sounds good to me! Sexy even!

I'm redefining sexy. It's not about showing off my body or flirting. It's about creating a life I love. I have had beliefs in my way before. Silly. They are my beliefs, so I can change them. I believe in love, in life, in God, and in my sexiness. It all works together. It's all good!

Perspective

Ok, so the job didn't work out. I am not in control. But I do have choices. And it is a powerful choice to change your perspective. I can see some things that I have done in the past to cause and keep myself trapped in my own misery. It's so freeing to know how to change my perspective and choose joy. Wholeness. Gratitude. I knew it was possible, but I was lost in the "how to." Now I get it.

First, the job. Oy. The position, the company, the actual work, and my direct boss all seemed like a good fit. I met Ms. "head honcho," the owner and my boss's boss, and I thought we had a good rapport. I only met one other future coworker, and I did not view the workspace or meet the others on the team. If I had, I would have picked up on a certain vibe that remained unknown to me until my first day on the job. First lesson learned -- it's better to know that vibe before you accept the job. Ask about it. I am highly affected by a negative work environment, and a healthy work environment is a priority for me. Why didn't I say that? Was I afraid it just doesn't exist? Did I feel "too picky?" Did I not want to be labeled as "too sensitive?"

Maybe I just didn't want to reveal too much about myself. I am sensitive. What I want most in a work situation are workable relationships. I grew up in a family that had very strained relationships. Tension. Disconnection. Anger. Inconsistent moods that others danced around. I don't want that in my home. And for 40+ hours a week, work is home. That's too much of my life to repeat my childhood home environment. It's a deal breaker.

What "they" actually did and how I became aware of the vibe really isn't important. I gave it a whole week, ha ha. I listened, tried to keep my sense of humor, and checked myself by talking to some trusted friends. It was clear. I would be miserable there. I would be "owned." I would be "told." My boundaries would not be respected. I did say in my interview that it's important for me to have "a say" at work. Not that I would never be overruled, but I wanted to have a voice. I did not. When I spoke up, I was immediately overruled. I didn't just feel like "the maid," I felt like a mistreated maid.

I grew up with "a maid." We never called Frederee that. She was my second mom and we all treated her with the utmost respect. I was trying to imagine how it would have gone if my mom had said, "Frederee, I know we made our meal plans and you shopped accordingly, but I've decided we'll have chicken tonight, so throw out what you were making, go buy some chicken, and make another dinner. You don't mind staying late do you?" And then, tasting the chicken and saying,"I thought I wanted fried, but now I want baked, so do it over." My mom would have been wearing that chicken. I would rather be a maid and work for someone like my mom than be a professional working for a demanding and unreasonable person.

Now, perspective. I can be truthful about who I am and what helps me do good work. I have choices. I can speak up in the situation, and I can walk away. Yep, now I have a financial problem that needs a solution. That job just was not the solution. Keep seeking another solution. I am responsible for the effort, not the outcome. And the effort involves being brave enough to be honest and ask the right questions. I feel really good because I am not caught up in blame and resentment. I am learning the lessons and moving on. I take responsibility for my part. I trust God to do His part. And I pray for that woman and those who work for her. Because she can't be well. But I can. And I will.

Wow

Oooh, long time no blog. I guess updating website copy for an online traffic school has distracted me. I am grateful for the work, and am also enjoying a break from it as I look ahead to my next opportunity in the communications department of a nonprofit company dedicated to helping children with special needs. I start any day...whenever my background check clears. I've been waiting for a few weeks with mixed feelings -- ready to get started, a little nervous, and enjoying the break. 2012 reinforced the fact that God is in control, and I am not, so I am at peace.

Spending eleven months searching for work and scavenging for freelance projects with all the scrappyness I could muster had a life-changing effect on me in more ways than I even realize. These are tough times, and my heart goes out to anyone who is un- or underemployed and worried about their financial survival. I have more compassion for people in general now. I will go out of my way to help anyone in that situation.

I don't care if I sound preachy. Lean on God. The first time a well-meaning friend said that to me (within days of my layoff), I wanted to say "thanks for the platitude -- what I need is income." He gave me the book "Jesus Calling" -- a daily devotional in the voice of Jesus -- and I read it with a bitter attitude. I spent some time blaming my ex-employer. I felt the reason for my layoff was bogus. I felt they were not truthful with me or the others who got the axe from them last year. I wanted to call them on their lack of integrity. Not that it would change anything, but you know that feeling when you want to say "do you really think I'm that stupid?" However, when I looked at the situation from a spiritual perspective, I realized the company is not God. It is made up of mere humans. God allowed it to happen. Give my blame and bitterness to Him. He knows I'm not stupid. And God knows what those mere humans did, even more than I do. He. Will. Handle. It.

I guess I'm getting more overt about my faith these days. I did not know much about God the first half of my life. I didn't understand the difference between religion and God. I perceived those who preached to me about God as zealots trying to convert me to their religion. They annoyed me and I felt judged by them. I never wanted to become one of "those people." I won't try to "convert" anyone. It all changed for me when I was dealt some cards I did not feel equipped to play, and a wise woman asked if I wanted God to help me with that. Ummm, you betcha. My perception changed. Looking at life through three dimensions instead of two is immensely helpful. There's more than I can see, and it's not all up to me. I don't do God's job and He doesn't do mine. Discerning the difference is a moment-by-moment process that I navigate through prayer.

There's a new book out called "Help, Thanks, Wow: The Three Essential Prayers." If I didn't believe in God, whom would I thank? Who would help me? And who inspired my first word -- which was, not coincidentally, "Wow." I have more "wow" moments than I did eleven months ago. Thank you God. You really helped me. Wow.