Love is easy, relationships can be hard

Well hello blog, it has been a long time since I've written. Anything.

The world seems to change exponentially by the minute. Yet some things are timeless -- love, health, finances. Seems most everyone is dealing with struggle in at least one of those areas. And they are dynamic. What works one day does not necessarily work the next day.

Relationships are on my heart today. AKA love. One of the dearest, most rewarding and special aspects of being alive is having a trusting and truthful relationship with someone. And one of the most difficult is realizing a relationship must change or end. I want to love everyone, and am reading a wonderful book called "Everybody Always" by Bob Goff, which is about demonstrating love toward even the most unlovable. I can do better. But I also know when to give a "wide berth" to those who are not trustworthy, the "emotional vampires," and the users. I realize that there is bad in the best of us and good in the worst of us. I've studied behavioral psychology and do not want to reward bad behavior. Yet, I have behaved badly at times and been grateful for those who loved me through it. I've also been grateful for those who called me on my behavior, because they helped me grow.

I've recently left a relationship (not my marriage, my marriage is good). It was difficult. I wanted to skulk away. I believed the people involved would not even notice I was gone. I expressed my reasons and walked away. I believed what I had was an unwarranted loyalty to a toxic entity. I believe that there is no repairing it. I just had to trust my gut that it was harmful for me to stay in it. It still hurts, and is a loss. But I am healing. I don't feel stuck anymore, and that is a good thing.

A friend of mine has been betrayed by her soon-to-be ex-husband in the most soul-crushing way possible. My heart hurts for her. When marriages turn to war, it's shattering. There are kids involved. I feel outraged at this man's behavior. I believe he is sick in the soul. So I pray he will get well. In the meantime, wide berth. My place is by my friend's side.

I want to be a person who loves hard, loves with actions, stays humble, and exercises discernment. That discernment can be so tricky. I try to remember to love myself first. I will pick my battles carefully, but I will not accept unacceptable treatment and relationships. God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. I am praying for wisdom today.

Darkness and Light

I wish I were wired to debate well and make arguments that win cases. Kind of. I admire people who do that well. I was a fan of Ally McBeal. My Dad loved Perry Mason. I'd like to make a case for my faith. But it feels wrong to approach it that way. Spirituality is mysterious, a matter of the soul and heart, not just a cerebral concept. I understand people who are wired that way. I just don't speak that language very well.

What I know is my story of faith. I was not raised to go to church. In fact, my Dad called the Bible "preposterous." He was referring specifically to the Virgin Mary bearing a child. How could God create a child through other than tangible human means? Well, to my thinking, if God created the heavens, the earth, and humans, the immaculate conception was in line with all of that. So I started seeking answers for myself.

I would have to say that I met the devil -- the darkness of life if you will -- before I understood about the good side. Our home life was not peaceful. My Dad was not a happy person. My early teenage years were rough. I was immersed in the culture and peer pressure of the 70s. I had a boyfriend who was mean to me. Alcohol and drugs were common pastimes. I just did not know what I did not know. And I wanted what I wanted -- all the things the culture encouraged me to want -- beauty, popularity, love, coolness. I did not want to hang with the geeky "Jesus" kids, and I sure did not want to go to Sunday School. Why would anyone go to school on Sunday?

Yet I had a penny with the Lord's prayer on it stuck to my headboard over my bed. I wore a cross. I prayed every night. I visited churches but did not really connect.

I noticed some people were different. My neighbor went to church. Her family was loving and close. A "Jesus" friend of mine, Brian, stood up against abortion in a group conversation. He made me rethink my opinion. I had seen what alcohol had done to my Dad's life, and I did not want to follow that path. I had several hurtful relationships that caused me to seek therapy. My therapist led me to the "Adult Children of Alcoholics" 12-step program, and I discovered what it meant to put faith in a higher power. That gave me hope and understanding of a more spiritual approach to life. Seeking highs, love, and pleasure can be an addictive way to live, because there's never enough, you're always chasing. I wanted peace, self-worth, contentment, and to feel okay about who I am. I had lived in darkness and I saw what it did to my family. I was drawn to the light.

I've had a long life -- so telling the whole story is kind of tedious! Let's just say that inheriting two teenagers whose mother passed away led me that much closer to God. I came to believe that Jesus is Lord and Savior. I've had some stumbles along the way. I have turned from God at times, but I always come back. My soul is at peace.

I don't believe it's my place to preach, explain, or persuade. But I do encourage everyone to seek answers. Don't let the "religious" bad apples discourage you. They're like the fruit in Ms. Pac Man -- just there to distract you. I will always accept you, and I will always pray for you -- that you find answers, for health, for love, for whatever you need. I believe in the greatest commandment -- love God and love one another. Loving you, be blessed.

A Bridge to Faith

I read an article yesterday about the "watering down" of Christianity. It said, among other things, that many of today's Christians "pick and choose" what they like and disregard what they don't like, and that they choose the "feel good" aspects while ignoring the "rules." I wanted to agree, but my head was buzzing with authority rebellion. The tone did not invite introspection, rather the author drew a line in the sand and made a case for why those who think differently are wrong.

I was raised with zero spirituality. I was taught to work hard and accomplish something in life. Not bad lessons. But boy, when I failed, I had no sense of self worth. I thought failing and being a failure were the same thing. I had a sense that I was missing something -- and I looked for it. I found a "higher power" through the 12-step program, which gave me a rudder. I became a Christian in my 30s after a life-changing experience.

Before I understood about faith, many tried to "preach" to me, and all were unsuccessful. Churches made me feel like an outsider, like I wasn't truly "in the club," and I wasn't sure I wanted to be.

Yet I have a heart for evangelism. Go figure. I've communicated it mostly through songs.

Not worship songs. I still bump that church services begin with sing-along worship songs. Right away a visitor feels in the "out group" because they don't know the songs. And if they don't sing, it's even more uncomfortable. I see worship songs as something you grow into, not begin with.

To me, evangelism is all about hospitality. How do you help someone feel welcome in your home? You don't sit them in a corner and preach to them, right? Offer a beverage, a chair, give them a tour, show them where the amenities are, introduce them to someone, etc. Keep conversation light and go deeper gradually. I was raised to understand hospitality, so that is natural to me.

I like to share what led to my journey of faith. I was not perfect. I made major mistakes. I am human. What was my life like before my faith and what has changed since? If people ask questions, I answer them as best I can, but I do not close the sale unless I feel like that's where they are -- that they need to be asked these questions -- Are you ready to change your life? Do you want God to help you with that?"

I do not have exclusively Christian friends. I love people who "violate" the rules. I don't post dogmatic sayings or political stances on my Facebook page. Why? Because I don't think they persuade anyone, and they make me look like a preachy self-righteous person. I'd rather be approachable. Then God might choose to bring people to me who have questions and want to feel safe to ask them.

I think people find an answer to life and get excited to tell others about it. But it doesn't really convince anyone until you live the faith and the evidence is the new story of your life. And care about them. I agree with the saying that people don't care how much you know until they know how much you care.

I like my church because I can invite people and they don't feel preached at or pushed. They get information and can make their faith journey their own way, in their own time. They are told they can "dial direct" to God.

Let them explore "the rules" and work that part out themselves. Build bridges, not walls. Peace out.

Creativity is Ageless

As a Renaissance Girl, I wear a lot of hats. The piano teacher/business owner has taken center stage. My inner artist has been applauding from the bleachers, and getting a little restless. "When is it my turn?"

I hear you patient artist, and I'm sorry you have had to be silent so long. Now that I want to coax you out of hiding, I find that you are shy and out of practice.

It's wonderful to be multifaceted. I miss creating. My creative self fights with my financial survival self. I'm quite sure every artist experiences this inner push-and-pull.

Teaching helps me encourage artistry in others, as well as share the artistry I've already accomplished.

I do not limit my students to pure music transcription. We learn from playing music created by others, but we take our learning deeper when we apply it to creating our own songs, expressing our own voices.

It's time to remember how to practice what I teach!

Dare I video and post my current songwriting efforts? The years have changed my appearance and my voice. I witnessed ridicule of Madonna's recent performance at the Grammy Awards. Yikes. She doesn't move the way she used to. I may not sing the way I used to. But -- do any of us do anything the way we used to? Why should that be a barrier to finding new ways to do what we are gifted to do?

I'm not the new kid, the ingenue, etc. I'm experienced. And it is a privilege to help shape a new generation of musical artists. I think I will serve them better if I'm still active in my own creativity. Even if it does not look the way it used to.

If it's true, it will look as it should. Courage is ageless too.

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.

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!