Balloons

A male friend of mine used to tell me he always dreamed of a "red balloon" relationship, but he discovered he could be happy with a "blue balloon."

Red was my favorite color when I was a kid, so I could relate to this.

I wondered if I had ever "settled" for less than a red balloon.

Some people never wonder about these kinds of things. I envy them. I can't seem to NOT wonder these things. And, because I've seen it, I believe it's possible to have both a "red balloon" career and a "red balloon" relationship -- to be true to yourself, and to resist believing you are greedy or ungrateful because you believe a "good fit" is possible.

The exercise in frustration is that it's all within our control. It's okay to say "no" to the wrong thing because you are waiting for the right thing. What I find really hard is living with the wrong thing (like a crummy job) because the right thing just isn't happening.

Stinking thinking will tell us that we don't deserve it, to give up, to be grateful for the crumbs we have.

"Being a realist" can make the waiting seem pointless.

Wait anyway. Pray for your desires and work toward your goals.

When you give up, the bad guys win.

I've felt stuck in unhappy relationships and oppressive work situations. And I've been unstuck.

'Tis the season for miracles. Keep believing in red balloons.

Live Beyond the Box!

Wow this video just hit me upside the head!

What makes us settle for a box of any kind?

This video reminds me of the life I used to say I'd never ever want.

Here's what I wrote in my journal at age 15:

"I have this wild idea to just be free of all the silly rules that just seem so stupid and live differently from other people. Have a definite originality to my life. The thought of a dull job and slaving at college, even continuing High School sounds so conservative and stereotyped the monotony would drive me crazy. But what can I do? I hope as I grow older these ideas will bet bigger and stronger instead of disappear because it's what I really want."

Well, I'm older! And I have felt like a ping-pong ball bouncing between the ticky-tacky box and the cliff of creativity. The creative life looks so cool from a 15-year-old's point of view. No rules. Freedom. Live wherever. Follow your muse. Override the dullness. I used to say "I don't want to live a doggy little life."

Then parents expect you to go to college, so you go. You're expected to pick a major, so you do. The gravy train runs out and you have bills to pay. I worked at an insurance company and lived in an apartment in North Hollywood, and I was burglarized. They took my jewelry and my electronics. They even left the seat up in the bathroom. Ewww. The drive to earn more and head for a safe box in Thousand Oaks was born of fear for my physical safety. Then I had kids in my life. They need structure, and boy do they need money! And so it went. But my muse called to me in the night, and during the daydreams of my cubicled 9-5 existence. And I've been a mugwump ever since. (a mugwump is an animal who sits on a fence with his mug on one side and his wump on the other)

Well these days I think the mug that is my muse is winning! I am somewhat counter-culture by encouraging young artists to honor their muse -- their music -- and to find their own voices. I'm not a boxy piano teacher. I am honoring that long-ago dream to make my life different -- and to support others in dreaming bigger than ticky-tacky. The wonder of living all these years is realizing that it's not just about me -- my dream gets more meaningful when I encourage others to honor theirs. I get to be a part of it, and that is truly magical.

So, 15-year-old Sue, I hope I have not let you down. I hope the maturity of years has broadened our dream beyond your youthful vision, and blossomed into an honest, soulful, original life.

Upgrading my Thought Life

Just for today

I’m going to believe I don’t need to buy anything to be okay
I will limit my TV viewing to one hour
I will limit my Internet surfing to specific tasks
I will cope without chemicals
I will have empathy for the haters and the uniformed
I will not engage in any debates
I will not give advice
I will refrain from posting advice
I will thank God for what He has given me
I will do my work
I will learn something new
I will do chores without bitterness or complaint – maybe even with joy
I will stay in the present
I will encourage each person I encounter
I will show love to my husband
I will pet and walk my dog
I will play music just for fun
I will move my body
I will eat healthy food
I will pray for whoever comes to mind
I will redirect troublesome emotions into prayer
I will sing

Alcohol

I can make anybody pretty
I can make you believe any lie
I can make you pick a fight
With somebody twice your size

~ Brad Paisley, "Alcohol"

I have not had a drink of alcohol in 11 days. It's not like I was getting sloppy drunk or hurting anyone. I did not have the typical alcoholic's epiphany that I was out of control and must stop drinking for life.

I simply thought, "how will I feel without alcohol?" There are many answers to that question, and the revelations keep coming. They are so fascinating that I want to go without one more day just to see what else I might discover.

At first I felt deprived. Then I felt anxious. How do I settle down after a long day of teaching/traffic/pressure etc.? Answer: Find another way to chill. And after I do, I sleep better. And, I wake up feeling better.

I made some adjustments so that the deprivation does not overwhelm me. I made dessert and ate it. I'm eating more of the things I like and concerning myself less with calories. This is temporary, but necessary for balance.

The primary difference is how I feel spiritually. I feel more at peace, more connected to God, more open to receiving His guidance, and more available to my loved ones. I'm not "checking out." I'm more aware of what I did with the day -- the whole day -- rather than just the "working" part. I want to call people, go places, be with people, and experience more life. And this feeds on itself -- magnifying my engagement in life. Life is getting fuller, bigger, and more rewarding. There are more "sweet spots." And I remember them!

My memory is better. There are fewer embarrassing moments. I'm saying "did we talk about this yet?" and "did I tell you this story?" less. I'm hearing, "yes, you told me that before" less. And, because I'm more engaged, I have new stories to tell so I don't have to rely on the old ones. I believe this is a key to staying young at heart and not becoming like so many older people who bore others by repeatedly talking about the past.

I hope this reactivates my Jones to write songs again. I've missed it. As long as I'm alive, I must express the music inside me.

I'm also more aware of how much alcohol permeates commercials, songs, movies, television shows, people's conversations, and what many consider "a good time." The hope is that alcohol enhances a good time. However, like the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous says, "...alcohol is cunning, baffling, and powerful."

Singer-songwriter Josh Wilson put it this way: "I'm thirsty, God I'm thirsty, from drinking what destroys me, I'm pouring poison in my cup. Everybody says we're oh so different, but everybody knows we're all the same, we're all looking for a pill to kill the pain."

Alcohol is tricky. It over-promises and under-delivers. It sneaks into your system like a worm that can eat away at your soul. When it wears off, you are still thirsty.

This is where I am on Day 11. More to come. I hope.

How's your LOVE filter?

With Mercury in retrograde, writing a blog post may be unwise. Who knows what could blow up?

I feel weary of watching people's emotions blow up over simple Facebook posts. The hate debate is so disheartening.

I want to understand where people are coming from. I don't want to hear their cerebral diatribe. I don't want to read the platitudes that say "I'm on THIS side."

Whatever happened to "come together?" and "what the world needs now is love?"

I want to know your heart.

It's clear that there is very little trust in our government leaders and our political system.

It's clear that believing in God is ok as long as we say there are many gods and all paths to God are ok. If you believe in the God of the Bible, you will be attacked. It goes with the territory.

It's clear that if you don't speak out in support of gay marriage you are deemed a prejudiced bigot.

So when people have different opinions, they name call and blame each other. How old are we, 10?

I understand self-righteous anger. Some people feel lied to, duped, oppressed, outraged. They want to say "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore." I get it. But reading it hurts my heart.

I don't know if my vote matters. But I vote anyway. I believe in God. I can't make you believe or not believe. I'm not gay. I don't think who marries whom should have anything to do with the government or tax breaks. I don't own a gun. I admire the woman who talked a gunman down at a school instead of shooting him. But would I want to protect my loved ones from a violent sick person? Why yes, I would.

Maybe one of the reasons I believe in God is because I can't possibly know everything or sort out all these gray areas. What might be perceived as my "black-and-white" stance is actually acknowledging shades of gray and all the colors of the rainbow. I believe God is on my side and on yours, no matter what you believe.

I believe in Love. And I believe that God is Love. All the commandments can be summed up in two: Love God and Love one another.

Love with a capital "L."

Maybe we would benefit from more "I love you's" and fewer "I blame you's."

If you must pontificate and debate, how about you run it through the "love" filter first?

The hate is hurting my heart.

What Matters Most

I do not feel my age. Saying the number is a little daunting. But overall, I'm very grateful. I've lost my parents, a sister, and several very close friends. Losing Cece, who was born the same year I was, five years ago has made me check myself if I start grumbling about my age. Cece would like to have stayed around longer to see her daughter graduate from high school, and now from college. I have no reason to grumble. There are two ages -- alive and not -- and I am alive. To waste my aliveness bogged down in negativity would be the height of stupidity. Yet I know I overlook blessings every day. God has dealt me some good cards and I want to play them well.

The most prominent blessing in my life is the love of friends and family. Not just their love for me, but my love for them. Finding ways to show my love gives me great joy. I love finding out that one person has a need that another person I know can fill. "Needs-based" matchmaking I guess. Some of my happiest moments have only been possible by their corresponding embarrassment. I so wanted to be a songleader in high school. (that is a more "dancy" form of cheerleader) I am not a natural, and I had no training. My friends Janet and Venus went out of their way to "step" me through each move. I am a "learned" dancer now, and I even spent a year teaching aerobics. My gratitude is enhanced by the fact that I was so slow and frustrated, and they loved me through it.

Then there was the "Singing in the Rain" audition. My daughter Erin, who was then 13, watched me read lines and sing for the director. Then the director asked if I would attend the dance audition, where I failed miserably. (Those cues went by so quickly, and what language was that choreographer speaking anyway? So much for French class.) However, I "thought on my feet" and used the experience as a teachable moment, telling Erin that "it's amazing what you can do if you are not afraid to feel stupid."

The most extreme fear I have ever experienced was singing in public for the first time. My knees and my voice shook, and I had to have a friend hold me up. I became determined to conquer that fear. Now one of my favorite things is singing. If I could do that, I think I could do most anything. (even dancing, if you teach me slowly!)

Reflecting on my 50+ years of life, it is those moments of overcoming fear that stand out the most. I had to do a lot of that to pursue the adventure of a life with Bob. I made mistakes, and I still do. But my heart knew "we just had to be together," and I'm glad that we are.

This video highlights some of my favorite moments. Here's to making more memories.

Putting on a Good Facebook

I was musing out loud last night and said "Facebook is fascinating." Bob asked if I cared to elaborate. Even though he had that "I don't want to hear more words right now" look on his face. Truthfully I was processing and had no more to say in the moment.

Now I do. :-) Facebook has changed the number of relationships I can have at a time, the flow of information, the frequency of contact, and created new levels of relationship that did not exist for me before. It's also a new venue for expressing myself. If I reveal too much, I may get unwelcome comments from people I have not truly let into my "inner circle" of trusted friends. I don't like being commented on in general, so why invite what I don't like?

This is a quandary. I really like not having to wait for the "yearly Christmas letter" to hear what's going on in people's lives. I like sharing parts of my life and having a forum where I can be completely myself from day to day. I like being able to share my piano lesson business in a heartfelt way. I like staying in touch with people who would be difficult to stay connected to without this forum. Like my sister's friend who has known me since birth, or many of my high school friends.

Facebook is useful for recommendations and referrals. It's a place to vent. I vented about Juan Pablo -- the Bachelor. Then I felt remorseful. I don't really like the show and I just got kind of hooked in toward the end. I like looking at the beautiful St. Lucia scenery and all the pretty people and clothes. I'm a girl, after all. But they are just cartoon characters to me. Then the relationship part hit the fan and I felt like a voyeur. I felt kind of dirty. A lesson learned in public.

Most of our lives are much more public than they would have been pre-Internet. As a wannabe actress I had head shots printed and sent them to agents. I had to go places to build relationships that would further my career. Now I can do all of that from "behind the screen." And with this blog I feel like I have my own newspaper column. The drastic nature of this change strikes me sometimes -- and I want to think it through. Do I really want all of these relationships? What do I want to reveal? What's my goal? How do I manage my Internet time so that it's valuable and not a time-robber?

I see many more positives than negatives. It brings some things to light inside me that are worth a look. Online life is a unique dimension. It won't hurt me to get a little more time outside and away from the computer -- just to maintain the balance. But you just can't beat all the beauty the Internet can bring to your door on a rainy day! Here's to online sunshine!

Do you REALLY want to?

Two years ago I was laid off from a job I valued and hoped to have for a long time. I did not see it coming. It had never happened to me. I had the job for two years, and during that time I had six different managers. The lady who hired me left after two months. The subsequent managers decided to keep me, until manager number six decided not to.

She seemed like a shark to me. But I was not concerned. I knew that no one else was suited to do my job. I had always been the one to stay while others were laid off, and I would get their work. I guess she decided it was more economical to send out my work to freelance writers. Or maybe she wanted someone else in my job. I'll never know. Because she did not talk to me. Ever. Not a word. She had someone else call me shortly before my layoff and ask me about my processes, since "I was so good at my job." That should have been a clue, I guess. I was always happy to share. I did not feel possessive of my information. I'll never know what really went on in the minds of those who decided my fate. It was clear that I had no say -- none at all. "They" had the power to take away my salary and benefits and put me in financial peril. And I was not the only one who was let go that day. I was not able to get my things. I had to come back another day to do that. That felt demeaning.

So...I did not want to cry. I told them I knew it must have been hard for them and wished them well. I wanted to believe this was part of God's plan for me and I would be okay. I stuffed the pain. To feel pain felt like giving away my power. But it delayed my healing.

I've always had an easy time finding work. Not this time. The employers who did want me clearly mistreated their employees. It's true. I lasted a week in a job where I indirectly answered to a lady who was clearly passive-aggressive, elitist, and micro-managing. And just bat-$hit crazy. I had no say. In most other employment situations, I felt like I had a voice. What had changed? Was I missing something?

Then I had a powerful conversation with a life coach. He listened to my life story and concluded that I was a "powerful mother f#$%%er." I'll edit that to "Pow Mo Fo." The use of that language was truly what I needed. Why was I giving my power away? What did I need to do? Work for myself, that's what!

So I decided to "do my own thing" in advertising and marketing. I had business cards made. I went to leads clubs and Chamber of Commerce events. Something was off. It was like rubbing sticks together and not getting any fire. I concluded that I wanted to want to. That's different from really wanting to. My heart was no longer in advertising. I knew it was in music. But I could not see myself "competing" with Carrie Underwood, Pink, or Lady Gaga. At my age? Hmmmm. What to do?

While sitting in my hair stylist's chair, she told me about a client of hers who teaches piano with a program called Simply Music. And voila! The answer came! I checked it out and I am on fire. I love it. I'm happy, fulfilled, and redeemed. I am immensely grateful.

I still write and record my own songs, and I perform here and there. And I'm helping others discover their musicality, which fuels my soul.

Was being laid off the best thing that ever happened to me? No, I think not. But if it had not happened, this new life might not have happened. I had to let go of the good to receive the great. You can't make room for something new without getting rid of something old. And I could never feel strong by giving away my power to a person who did not care about me. God cares about me. And he made me musical and powerful. He had a plan. I just needed faith to find it. It's not enough to "want to want to." I had to REALLY want to. And it has made all the difference.

Missing you, Freddie Lu

It has been six years since my beautiful second mom, Frederee Louise Ray, passed away. She was 95, and I still was not ready to let her go. I feel it when the anniversary of her passing arrives. Something reminds me of her, and I feel the loss as if it just happened. Then I looked at the date. Oh. No wonder. My soul feels it.

I called her Fe-Fe, Freddie, or Freddie Lu. When she called me, she'd say, "Hi, it's your moms." She was born in Tishimingo Oklahoma, lived in New York, and moved to Los Angeles to work for actress Patsy Ruth Miller and care for Patsy Ruth's son, Timmy. She started working for my family in 1956, before I was born. When I was born, apparently my mom said "Frederee, this one's yours." I think there may have been some baby blues going on.

Frederee came to work at 9 am Monday through Friday and left at 5:30. She took me to the park, grocery shopping, and sometimes to her house in South Central Los Angeles. She knew all of my friends by name. She told me who was really my friend and who to watch out for. She caught me kissing a boy and told my mom. She took me walking to find my friend Zogzema's house, only to come home and ask my mom where Zogzema lived. My mom replied, "Oh, didn't you know? That's her imaginary friend." She helped me earn my Girl Scouts cooking badge. I remember her coming to work in tears during the Watts riots in 1968. She talked about race a lot. She said the whites and the blacks have to learn to stand together. I did not understand why it was an issue to anyone. Love comes in every color. And so does hate, I guess.

After Frederee retired in the early 1980s, we stayed in each others' lives. We talked at least once a week and visited each other often. When she was ill in the hospital and could only receive family visitors, I told the nurse I was her daughter. Frederee confirmed that her child was there to visit. The nurse watched our interaction and said, "This is unusual." She was charmed by Frederee. Most everyone was.

When I went through a very distressing divorce, I spent time with Freddie Lu and she gave me a Barry Manilow CD. She knew just how to make me feel better. She could sing. She could dance. And she was smart. She could have been a CEO.

I wrote a song for her, and the chorus is "Love many, but only trust a few. Learn to paddle your own canoe. Take care of yourself girl, that's your job to do. No man's gonna save you from the blues." Those were her words.

Mere words can't fully paint the picture. She was my rock, my mainstay, and my biggest fan. And she loved Bob. She called him "Bobio." She knew he would take good care of me. And he has.

I miss you Freddie Lu. I remember everything you taught me. I remember your smile, your laugh, and your voice. Her granddaughter said "When she loves you, she loves you hard." Thank you for teaching me about loving that way. Your soul shines in my life.

Another candle...

People seem to be quite curious about my age, especially lately. Example: "Sue, do you have kids?" "My kids are grown and I have grandkids." "What? Were you married when you were 12? You must be younger than I am!" Me: "Surprise is the right reaction!"

I like telling people I remember when Kennedy was shot. I like reciting other cultural references such as watching "Dark Shadows" after school or playing Bobby Sherman records. (yes, records) I still play some cassette tapes.

I guess it would be disheartening to feel like I look "old." But I truly believe age is a state of mind. And being happy with your age is a well-kept beauty secret. I've made friends with it.

I've known people who were old in their 20s, and I've known people who were young in their 90s. One in particular -- Frederee, my second mom. She is my "how to age" role model. She smiled a lot. She took an interest in people. She liked going places and doing things. She was open-minded and always learning. And she rarely complained. We were 50 years apart in age, yet I always loved being with her. I never thought of her as out of touch or unable to understand me.

I've always appreciated people with experience. In my 20s and 30s I hired vendors whose experience covered my behind. They knew their stuff, and I learned from them.

I like people with aliveness in their eyes. I want to be one of those people. I guess it helps that I've done a lot of things I wanted to do in my life. I've spent more time on the field than in the bleachers. I've lived, and I believe that there is more for me to do.

For anyone who believes that aging is painful because being young is better -- I say don't buy into that twisted thinking. Make the most of each day and year of your life. Auntie Mame said it best -- "Life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death." I say there are two ages -- alive and not. And I'm glad to be alive at almost 55.