myjourneysinsight

NO ORDINARY PRINCESS – PART 1

Posted on July 28, 2014 by Judy

The book cover above is one that I illustrated a long time ago.

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Last month, the artwork was finally returned to me after being lost for over 25 years.

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It was found when the publisher, Harper Collins was closing their offices. I’m guessing that someone probably discovered it at the bottom of a file cabinet. For such a long time I only had a slide to work with and now I have the original art to scan instead.

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It is an amazing coincidence how I recently wrote about my song “No Words” and chose that sunflower/butterfly cover image to go with it.

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Only a week ago I finished the guitar and vocals for my newest arrangement of “No Words.” It has intricate harmonies and creating it was very rewarding. The link below is to my song and story: #444 NO WORDS – PART 2

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I love the title of the book I illustrated called “No Ordinary Princess.”

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That’s because shortly before I separated I started to call myself a Princess. Seeing myself as a Princess allowed me to write feelings I might not have been able to express in any other way.

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I chose that image from my subconscious freely and one thing that I’ve learned from hypnosis is how important it is to allow images, thoughts and words to form without judgment.

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Unfortunately, there is a dark side to my Princess metaphor – the Dragon.

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In the beginning, the image of a Dragon was a metaphor for my ex-husband. Sadly even though he is physically gone from my life, the dragon continues to haunt me. Certainly there are issues related to our children – but it is more than that. I see the Dragon as a metaphor for unhappiness.

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The Dragon also represents my inner critic or judge, which is always there in my mind. Feelings of low self-worth and of living with suppression and criticism for many years plague me. Staying positive has been an inner struggle, especially since I’ve had constant dry eye pain.

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The word judge leads to “judgmental” and that stirs up such negative feelings for me.

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In many ways, I’m so proud of how different I am compared to how I was brought up. I really try to be open-minded and go out of my way not to judge or criticize anyone. My mother was always very sure about everything – there was right and wrong, good and bad and she saw everything as black or white. I do tend to follow that by thinking in extreme ways; I often miss out of seeing possibilities that lie in the gray realm.

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I suffer greatly because my inner critic or the judge in my head is not kind to me. Therefore, although I try to be kind and open-minded with other people, I am very judgmental with myself. That has led me to discover why I need a lot of healing at this time in my life.

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I want to explain why I have discomfort surrounding being a Princess. Writing helped me to understand those feelings, so this has been a great opportunity for me to find insight.

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This photo is blurry, but it brings back memories of carefree times when I played my guitar and had many boyfriends.

Feeling like I was a Princess began during my childhood. My parents adored me and nurtured all of my talents: art, writing and music.

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Before I was married, my future husband also adored me. But everything changed after we were married. I discontinued my music and drifted apart from my close friends; I was very unhappy but chalked it up to my immaturity. I told myself that I just needed to grow up and lose my unrealistic expectations about happiness.

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Even back then, I had a lot of judgment about my feelings. I ignored my intuition and I even stopped keeping my diary because I couldn’t bear to write my true feelings.

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Because I was in such deep denial and couldn’t face the prospect of divorce, I blamed myself for my unhappiness. I did seek out therapy, but everything pointed back to how controlled I was by my mother. I suppressed every thought I could about the lack of intimacy in my marriage.

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My career kept me very busy. I was driven to become successful because my husband seemed unhappy with me. I thought that perhaps if I made more money he would be happier.

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That issue about making money still haunts me. So often, my thoughts related to money become convoluted because my self-worth was tied into it for such a long time.

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It is unfortunate how the image of a Princess can lead me to such a dark place. Once again, black and white comes into my mind with the darkness of the Dragon countered by the enlightenment of the Princess.

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The judge berates me and tells me that I was pampered and did not appreciate my husband’s hard work. I took care of his needs for so many years and this thinking drives a stake right into my heart because of the guilt I carry about ending my marriage.

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My ex-husband would certainly think that I was pampered. I had a housekeeper to help me and he hated waking up to go to work. I always felt so grateful to have flexible hours with my career and appreciated that my husband was reliable and provided for his family.

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But even though I had a housekeeper, I never relaxed. My husband wasn’t happy about the expense and hated the invasion upon his privacy. Having a housekeeper made it possible for me to continue working as an illustrator and when our children were young, I often needed extra help on the weekends when I had large assignments.

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This picture is of Jason when he was three. My children always had plenty of art supplies to work with.

I really needed help from the start because our first child, Jason had many health problems. He refused to eat and vomited constantly. There were times when I had to race him to the emergency room once a week due to his heart arrhythmias.

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Later on we had children with special needs. I needed behavioral help to deal with meltdowns and was constantly going to court against the school district in order to gain help for my children.

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So what truly allowed me to survive was the support that came from Rosa; she worked for our family for over twenty years and my children considered her to be their second mother.

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But my husband wasn’t too happy with her and the animosity between them tore me apart.

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Because the amount of work Rosa had to do was overwhelming, our house was never clean. I wasn’t able to keep up with all the demands from my challenging children; I set my work aside to advocate for their special needs for many years. My husband criticized Rosa to me every time we were together because our house was dirty. He was angry that our children didn’t behave better; that things were constantly in need of repair because our youngest son wasn’t watched more carefully or disciplined.

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I rarely spoke up, except when he picked on our son. There was always underlying tension. It became especially hard when my parents became ill and I brought them to live with us while they were on a waiting list for an assisted living facility.

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It was one of the hardest years of my life. I felt appreciative that my husband “allowed it,” but at the same time his moodiness and anger worried and upset my parents. The guilt and anger that I carried suffocated me.

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This picture was taken two years ago. Rosa is still very close to my children and me. She comes over once a week to cook dinner and help out with all the laundry. My children always are so excited to see her. She is part of my family and always there for me – as I am for her.

When I began creating music and writing in 2010, I dreamed I’d make a lot of money and become famous. I told myself a story about how if I became successful, my husband could retire from the job he disliked so much and then he wouldn’t be so angry all the time.

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Two years later in 2012, my father was dying and my mother had dementia. I dealt with it alone and was at a very low point. The constant pressure and criticism from him was too much and it began to dawn upon me that I had a lonely existence. I hated his company and could not find any other way to deal with my feelings except through my songs.

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It was my beautiful music that gave me the clarity and courage to continue my journey in a new way.

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I ended my marriage so I could live without the constant stress and suppression I carried for decades. It was ultimately because of self-love and the feeling that I deserved more from life.

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So the true reason I am “No Ordinary Princess” is because I feel that I have something extraordinary to offer the world. I could not have found my courage if I hadn’t been blessed with those gifts that have healed me: my music and writing.

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I reclaimed being the Princess from my childhood.

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As I embrace dreams that I abandoned for many decades while caring for my children, husband and parents . . .

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I do feel like royalty!

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Clicking on this makes it larger.

In looking for an attachment for this post, I found a page from my diary that I wrote at the age of 19. It truly tells my story. The line where I wrote, “Smiling is my favorite habit next to eating and biting my nails” hits me hard. Below is a transcription:

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Life is busy. Is it real? I feel detached sometimes, like a wandering entity put to the test all the time. It’s kind of lonely, too, esp. when I spend my time cheering and pleasing other people all around me who really have no idea what I’m really like. Very few people have ever come close. Parents can come to a certain point – where they know certain parts perfectly and never know others. But in the midst of my stage, which I act upon well during the course of the day – I wonder if I’m feeling. Am I happy? I guess if I’m smiling. Am I sad? I’m not crying. Smiling is my favorite habit next to eating and biting my nails.

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© 2014 Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Tagged adjusting to divorce, artist, beautiful music, black and white thinking, coping with divorce, creativity, denial of feelings, divorce after long marriage, escape through music, gray divorce, having hope, healing music, hopeful and optimistic, hopefulness, inner critic, inspiration, Judy Unger, maintaining hope, memories and divorce, metaphor of a princess, Music, music and inspiration, musical comfort, musical inspiration, musical rediscovery, no ordinary princess, optimism, original songs, passionate songwriter, Photoshop tips, princess metaphor, pursuing dreams, Reasons for divorce, self worth, singing, songwriting, suppressing emotion, suppressing tears, suppression of feelings, transforming your life, writing | 5 Comments

TRANSFORMING MY LIFE

Posted on July 16, 2014 by Judy

For me, being under hypnosis is like drifting through clouds. I’ll hear music, see colors and am totally serene. When I awaken I am very refreshed and energized.

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Sometimes I’ll hear my hypnotherapist speaking, but I am not really listening to what she is saying. When a word stands out for me, then I’ll feel a glimmer of awareness.

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Then there are those other times when I’m very alert while in the hypnotic state. I will carry on an animated conversation with my eyes closed. I’m often startled by the amazing revelations I uncover as my subconscious speaks freely.

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Peaceful sky cutout

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Last week, I was really looking forward to my hypnotherapy session.

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I wanted some comfort because I was dealing with the aftermath of a huge blowup I had with my oldest son. He moved out for two weeks and now he was back.

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Connie, my hypnotherapist was very supportive as usual. But clearly, I wasn’t nearly as stressed out as I was the week before.

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It was all because of my new song!

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I had some lyrics scrawled on a sheet of paper and softly them sang to her. After I shared more about my new lyrics, we discussed other ways I could help myself feel better. Soon it was time for hypnosis and I moved over to the chair in the back of the room.

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As I was floating peacefully, I could hear my newest song. It played over and over in my mind and moved me to tears with its beauty. Lightly in the distance, I heard Connie speaking. It was then when I heard her say the word transformation.

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Now I was listening more carefully. As the word turned over in my mind, I felt compelled to speak. I said, “You know, I love the word transformation. It applies to my life in so many interesting ways!”

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With my eyes closed, I rattled off a long list. But what stood out most for me was how I have been blessed with the ability to transform any pain or deep emotion in my life into words and music.

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I was smiling as I went back into the dreamy state of hypnosis. My song echoed through my body; it was tenderly stroking my heart as I drifted peacefully before awakening.

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I decided that I would write more about that word later on.

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trans·form (verb)

trans·formed, trans·form·ing, trans·forms) altering, change something dramatically, convert something to different energy

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“My transformation”

I have often described my mid-life turning point as my transformation. It felt like a perfect description of how I became a completely different person when I embraced writing and music at the age of fifty.

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There was something so eerie about how different I felt in my own body with that transformation. My eyesight was different and so was the way I walked; even the sound of my own voice had me thinking I was someone else!

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A few years ago, when I presented a rough draft of my story to an editor, she crossed out any place in my story where I had the word transformation; she hated the word and told me it only belonged in a science fiction story.

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So as a replacement I used the words healing and rebirth, but those words could not adequately convey the depth of how I felt as much as transformation did.

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Recently, transformation came up in my song: “No Words.” For three years, I sang: “You truly are my butterfly, transforming my life with your first cry.”

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It was never an easy word to sing and my arranger, George disliked it intensely.

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With the newer version of “No Words” that I recently created, I decided that perhaps it might be time to sing something else with the faster tempo. So I transformed my lyric line to, “You changed my life with your first cry.”

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Since having children definitely changed my life, that worked fine for me.

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Now that I’ve mentioned my mid-life transformation and the use of transformation in my song lyrics, I want share two aspects of transformation related to my art career.

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“Transformation as an artist”

I transformed my artistic skills when I went from being a watercolorist to becoming a digital artist.

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Ten years ago, I wrote off my illustration career because it slowed to a standstill. I blamed it on the digital age.

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I did not easily embrace learning how to use the computer. But I taught myself Photoshop and eventually I could scan and manipulate my images in any way I desired. In addition to becoming a digital artist, I also learned a great deal about working with music on my computer.

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The process of learning through experimentation never stops for me.

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Transformation happens to be an actual term in Photoshop. I take this opportunity now to share some examples of digital transformation, which I used in my most recent illustration assignment.

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A question I often hear as a food illustrator is: “Why are they hiring you and not a food photographer?”

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That’s a valid question, especially since my final work looks like a photograph.

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So here’s the catch: many times the product I’m illustrating does not exist and cannot be photographed. So I must create something by imagining what it will look like.

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I still chuckle with the irony that as a watercolorist my goal was to make everything I painted look photorealistic. Now that I work primarily on the computer, my goal is to make my digital image look like a painting!

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But even when I painted, I relied upon photo reference for my renderings.

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When nothing exists for me to photograph, I search instead for something similar to what I’m illustrating. This starting point works well on the computer; I can alter any image with tonal, color and shape adjustment. Photoshop transformation is very important for what I do as an illustrator.

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Below is the exact specification for the Coconut Fruit Punch flavor ice cream bar I just illustrated. My client was Tillamook (A dairy company, known mostly for cheese)

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1. Fruit punch (orange, pineapple, cherry) sorbet core, coconut ice cream outer, white chocolate coating (possibly with coconut flakes).

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I went to the market searching to find any kind of coated ice cream bar that was white. I ended up buying one that was white chocolate and vanilla. I also brought home a few boxes of bars with pink centers to resemble the fruit punch sorbet core I needed to illustrate. I would be able to combine my photos.

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This is my photo before I’ve separated the elements and arranged them into a layout.

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I began my process by transforming my photos into a layout.

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Each flavor needed two illustrations; one for the front and the other for the back of the package. On the front illustration, there were ingredients scattered around the bar.

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Below are some of my layouts. The bottom three (G, H and I) represent “Round 2” where one layout was selected and further developed.

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Once my layout was approved, I created my illustration by working with colored pencil over a print. Below are examples of my final art:

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I also illustrated a dark chocolate raspberry bar.

My abilities were challenged when my client requested another version for the coconut punch flavor. I needed to illustrate this flavor again with a different coating, one that had coconut flakes in it.

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I couldn’t buy anything because there weren’t any bars at the market with this kind of coating. But Tillamook was nice enough to send me a dark photo of a prototype bar made in a kitchen at their factory. I was relieved because the light source would work for what I wanted to do.

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So now I’m going to share how I transformed my reference.

Transforming the bar

First, I “selected” (Photoshop term) only the bar area. There are many types of selection tools available. On this, I used one called a “magnetic lasso.” It is visible as a black and white broken line and moves around the selected area as indicated above with a black arrow.

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A box appears around the selected area and it allows me to drag it to another place. But that bar coating still needed work and had to be transformed further to fit my layout.

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There are many transforming choices available – I chose “warp.” I rotated, flipped and pulled the shape into the dimensions that were closer to the bar I wanted to superimpose it over. Then I lightened it considerably.

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After adjusting the color, my next step was to apply that layer over the smooth bar. I temporarily changed the opacity level so that I could “see through” the layer, which made it easier to position. But sometimes I will leave a layer slightly transparent for effect.

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I refined my combined layers further in Photoshop by using a digital airbrush and eraser. Wallah! I had a bar with a coconut coating!

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“I transform my pain into a song”

The best part about Photoshop for me is the “history” tool. Every step of the way (counting back as many as a 100 steps) I can access where I was before and all mistakes can easily be corrected.

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So that leads me to the third part of how transformation is a distinct part of my life.

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Even though I do not live with regret as a rule, there are times when I wish I could go back in my life to erase something I’ve said or done. Unfortunately, no tool for that exists that I know of. I’ve chosen to look at my mistakes as an opportunity for learning and changing.

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And for writing a new song!

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The process of transforming my pain into music and lyrics is both mystical and magical. It is not a conscious choice either. I hardly ever write lyrics just to write them. I first need to hear music to tell me what my song is about.

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I can pick up my guitar with every intention of writing a new song. I’ll experiment to find new chords and nothing sounds interesting. I usually give up when I find myself gravitating to chord progressions I’ve already written.

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It just doesn’t happen unless there is some deep emotion driving me.

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Last week when I was upset about an argument that I had with my eldest son, suddenly I began to hear some very haunting chords that took over my heart.

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At the same time that my song started emerging, the situation with my son improved as he and I started talking a little more. Although I was very hurt by what happened, seeing his pain taught me a great deal about how I want to handle my anger differently in the future. I still feel terrible for losing my cool and yelling at him.

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I am thankful for the blessing of my music; it is beyond anything I could possibly describe.

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When I hear my song, I am elevated, my heart is soothed and tears flow from my eyes as I softly hum its melody.

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I’m in awe that something so beautiful can come from the ugliness that preceded it.

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Tagged acoustic guitar, arranging a song, arranging music, artist, beautiful music, composing, creativity, digital transformation, escape through music, food artist, food illustrator, guitar, having hope, healing music, hopeful and optimistic, hopefulness, hypnosis, Hypnotherapy, ice cream bars illustrated, Illustration, inspiration, Judy Unger, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, maintaining hope, misunderstood, Music, music and inspiration, musical arrangement, musical comfort, musical inspiration, musical rediscovery, optimism, original songs, passionate songwriter, Photoshop, Photoshop tips, pursuing dreams, singing, song lyrics, songwriting, Tillamook, transformation in Photoshop, transforming your life, word transformation, writing | 4 Comments

NO WORDS – PART 2

Posted on July 11, 2014 by Judy

NO WORDS

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When you were born, I can’t explain

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You found a way to ease my pain

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You truly are my butterfly

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Transforming my life, with your first cry

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Sometimes there are no words

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There are no words for you

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No words for you; you have given me love

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Given me love, given me love

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I can’t describe, my pain you’ve cured

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I try and I try, there is no word

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You truly are my butterfly

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I sing from my heart this sweet lullaby

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Sometimes there are no words

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There are no words for love

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No words for love that has given me life

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Given me life, given me life

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You truly are my butterfly

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You lifted me up into the sky

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Sometimes there are no words

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There are no words for life

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No words for life that has given me you

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Given me you, given me you

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There are no words . . .

Links to other stories related to this song: NO WORDS

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Click the blue links to hear my song:

Singing is an amazing metaphor for so much of my life. With singing I have found my fullest expression and perhaps that is why I love it so much. Lately, I’ve been enjoying singing more than ever.

What seems to have really helped me was when I let go of the notion that my singing was either good or bad.

All of my voice lessons have provided me with excellent tools. Now I have given myself permission to sing freely, to make mistakes, try new things and to stop focusing upon singing “correctly.” It has made a huge difference. Singing is a pleasure and my resulting vocals are very heartfelt.

That is exactly how I want to live my life.

All of my songs teach me many things and are the keys to my insight. Sometimes, I’ll have a revelation when I discover that my song’s lyrics mean something very different from when I first wrote them.

For the past month, I’ve been working on a new arrangement of an older song named “No Words.”

When you were born Several friends have told me that my first version of “No Words” is one of their favorite songs of mine. It is very sweet and I used to get teary when I sang it.

I wrote the chorus lyrics for “No Words” in 1978, when I was 18 years old. My words expressed longing for romantic love I hoped to find someday. For 33 years, “No Words” only had 3 choruses and I faintly remembered the lovely lullaby melody for them.

In 2011, I wrote verses and finished my song. Instead of being a romantic ballad, “No Words” became a rainbow baby song. Now the lyrics were about how I healed from grief when my subsequent children were born.

I only learned a few years ago that the term rainbow baby is one for a new baby born after the death of a child.

At my baby shower for my daughter, this was on the doorway. She was born only 11 months after Jason died.

This sign adorned the door for a special baby shower I had in 1993. My daughter was born only 11 months after Jason died.

Two weeks ago, I sang a new vocal for my old arrangement as singing practice for the new arrangement. It turned out that it was very challenging to find the same vibe I used to have for this song. Perhaps it was because my larger children were stressing me out (17, 20 and 23) that I wasn’t as mushy as I was a few years ago.

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I began to see my lyrics as almost funny. Although I did decide to make a few minor lyric changes on the first verse, I left the rest of the lyrics alone because I didn’t want to destroy the sweetness of my song.

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Sometimes there are no words

I really do want to write about my insight, though.

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The two lines that bothered me most were: “You have given me love” and “You have given me life.”

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My lyrics easily bring back my vivid memories of being pregnant with my daughter shortly after Jason died. I was desperate to find a reason to go on living and truly believed that having another child was a beautiful way to embrace love and life again.

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But when I wrote the verses for my song in 2011, I had not yet faced how unhappy I was in my marriage. My insight is that the longing to fill my empty spaces began before my rainbow babies – with my very first child, Jason.

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I remember feeling unhappy and lonely in my marriage when I was only 27 years old. Because of deep denial and fear, I never addressed the true source of my loneliness. It seemed like having children would change my life and it certainly did.

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I treasure my children and have no regrets – but I do find my insight very valuable.

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Even though my lyrics state that my babies gave me life and love, the greater truth is that my children were gifts from God. They do not belong to me.

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And the true reason I wanted another child after Jason died was that I felt I had so much love to give.

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In the picture I am holding my two “rainbow children.”

Having children has taught me a lot about love.

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I have learned how deeply I love them and for many years I supplanted my own needs, desires and feelings in order to completely devote myself to them.

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One of the hardest areas of parenting for me has been being firm. I’ve been rather lax about demanding respect and setting boundaries, and only recently I’ve decided that’s far more important than being friends with my children.

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Wanting them to love me all the time came with a high price and it has been very hard for me to change my old habits.

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I still fix my 17-year-old son breakfast and pack his school lunch every morning. He’s been grumbling about having to do “kitchen duty,” but now he’s getting used to it and has been much more helpful about household chores. We’ve had a lot of fights over his attitude, but thankfully he understands now.

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Both my sons had a poor track record with remembering to put the toilet seat down. I found myself frustrated that they kept forgetting all the time. I thought it might help if I posted a sign to remind them – but they ignored the sign.

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Then I found a solution! If they forgot to put the seat down, well – I forgot to flush! Yes, it was passive-aggressive and upset both of them, but I loved every moment of it.

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My youngest son wrote the words, “Please, flush!” under my words on the sign even though it was usually his older brother who was the culprit.

I probably began to ignore my feelings when I was a young child. It seemed much easier not to upset anyone. It started with my parents and extended to my friendships.

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In my teens and again in my early twenties, I suffered when I was hurt by a close friend. Even though I expressed my hurt, it didn’t lead to resolution. From that time on, I decided that I hated conflict with a passion.

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When I became an adult, I made up reasons and excuses to put the blame upon myself whenever I was hurt. I believed I had high expectations of others and it seemed easier to please everyone and do whatever I could to avoid confrontation.

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During grief, I bounced between numbness and anguish. I plodded through life and focused my attention upon taking care of everyone around me. I have called that place Zombieland. In addition, my children had many challenges and I became a fierce advocate for all of them.

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Expressing my emotions (other than in a song) has been something I’ve never felt free to do in all of my 54 years.

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One of my first posts on this blog was titled “Up and Out.”

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On one hand, I relish the ability to acknowledge my feelings for the first time in my life – to get them out. On the other hand, letting things out has been very scary for me.

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A few weeks ago, my oldest son called me with a request that I felt was unfair and it made me angry. When I told him not to ask me again in an irritated voice (because I had told him before), he criticized me. That was a trigger.

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I found my voice getting louder. Because he told me that I couldn’t be angry, I wasn’t going to put up with it anymore. Then he became even more upset and yelled back at me.

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Our argument escalated and soon I was shrieking at him. For a woman who has avoided conflict her whole life, this episode was unbearable.

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When the call was over, I began crying and shaking. I didn’t know what to do and called a good friend who helped to calm me down.

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The next day, I sent my son a text message expressing love and apologizing for my anger.

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He told me I had betrayed him too deeply to ever be forgiven or trusted again. It seemed to me like everything I had ever done from a place of love was discarded due to my outburst. He moved out.

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Because I have lived with suppression and denial of feelings for most of my life, I gently understand that when something is pressed down, it’s harder to control what comes up. There was nothing about exploding that was helpful for me.

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I’m sad my son doubts that I am the same loving mother I once was. I’m hoping he’ll get over his hurt. At the same time, I’m trying to deal with my own hurt and not suppress it. A few days ago, he moved back in. But things are not the same and I’m hoping all of this will pass.

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As I adjust to many changes since my divorce, I’ve decided that any imperfect behavior is balanced by my willingness to admit my mistakes and apologize. I cannot control whether my son forgives me or not.

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It is forgiving myself that is so difficult.

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You changed my life

I believe the most important line in my song is the one about butterflies.

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The entire passage goes: “You truly are my butterfly; you lifted me up into the sky.”

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Originally, a butterfly was the metaphor I used to describe how I emerged from the cocoon of dark grief because love for and from my children lifted me up into the sky.

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I love butterflies and have another new insight about this line. I see my children as butterflies and teaching them to fly away has been a huge challenge for me.

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I did not learn about flying from my parents. As a result, I’ve done far too many things for my children that have not been age appropriate. How I wish I had encouraged them to be more self-reliant starting when they were younger!

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Now I want to be a butterfly.

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So perhaps my children are lifting me up to fly after all!

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Into the sky

Butterflies I love

I end my musings about my song “No Words” with more mature insight about love and life.

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My love for my family definitely did help me survive horrendous grief over the loss of my first-born child.

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But it was self-love and believing in myself that truly resulted in healing. The gift that I gave myself to follow my dream comes from a very inspired and blessed place.

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GUITAR AND SMILING

Sometimes, just like my song’s title – there are no words. I’m not sure what to say to my oldest son who has been avoiding me as much as possible.

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I’m actually at a loss for words to express how sad I am that he was so hurt by me. I still have memories of being traumatized when my own mother yelled at me at the age of 20.

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Perhaps my lesson is that the next time I’m angry, “no words” might be better.

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I have begun to write a new song and I think I will name it “Misunderstood.”

© 2014 by Judy Unger http://www.myjourneysinsight.com. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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WONDER WHY – PART 1

Posted on July 7, 2014 by Judy

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WONDER WHY

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I’m thankful for life but I’ve lived with grief

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Although I am hopeful, I long for belief

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I wish there’s a way you could explain

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Why life holds so much pain

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I look at the mountains into the blue sky

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I wish somehow I could fly

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Away from sadness, torture and madness

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As I cry, I wonder – why?

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Life can be sweet, we hope and we dream

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‘til tragedy leaves us to scream

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Diseases and death, lives are destroyed

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Prayer vanishes into that void

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I look at the mountains into the blue sky

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Searching for answers before I die

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For those who suffer, the road is much tougher

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As I cry, I wonder – why?

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–God, I want to believe in you, but I just wish I knew

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So much of life seems so unfair

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People are broken and filled with despair

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I look at the mountains into the blue sky

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My doubt is something I cannot deny

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If it was planned, I don’t understand

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God, I cry and wonder – why?

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Click the blue links to hear audio:

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Wonder Why Arrangement Mix 8-23-17

Wonder Why Guitar Mix 8-23-17

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Links to other stories about this song:

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#429 HOPING

#430 I WANT TO BELIEVE IN YOU

#432 MY DOUBT IS SOMETHING I CANNOT DENY

#435 FOR THOSE WHO SUFFER

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I had lots of blue sky to ponder in this picture taken eight years ago on a trip with two of my children and parents to Joshua Tree Monument. Unfortunately, my mother fell in the bathroom at night and broke her wrist. We went home the next day.

My songs always address my emotions and “Wonder Why” is no exception. Certainly, I know I’ve suffered in my life with challenges. But I still wrote my song with others in mind. I do not believe that intense suffering is part of the human condition. My doubtfulness expressed to God in my song is for the awful things that happen in this world, which I cannot grasp.

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I played my song for my good friend, Sonia who is a Holocaust survivor. Even though I value her opinion (she made some helpful suggestions for my song “Take Me Away”), I try to let my songs teach me the best choice of lyrics based upon how I feel when singing them.

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So when I asked Sonia for her feedback, she told me that too many of my lyric lines were detached; she far preferred my lyrics to be about my own feelings. I tried to make those changes, but I couldn’t.

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An example was this line: “People are broken and filled with despair.”

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Whenever I sang the words in a more personal way, (I’ve been broken and filled with despair) my song no longer felt honest. The reason was because although I might have felt broken in the past, my journey since age 50 has been about healing. So I don’t feel that way anymore.

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Sonia also hated the word torture. I thought about changing it. I tried singing “torment” and “sorrow.”

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But I kept the word torture. That word really does best describe for me the rampant horrors that exist in this world.

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I will begin my story about this song by dedicating it to my good friend, Magda. Our friendship began on a tennis court in a public park when I was in my 20’s and has deepened through the years.

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What Magda experienced when she lost her only child can only be described with the word torture. And she only told me this story many years after I’d known her, after I had lost my son, Jason.

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Magda was a young married woman living in a horrifically oppressive regime in Romania. The dictator at that time was Nicolae Ceaușescu and he ruled Romania with an iron hand; C-sections were forbidden. Magda explained to me the reason and it sounded absurd. Nicolae determined that if a woman had a C-section, she might not have another child and he wanted to populate his country. Therefore, he outlawed them except in the most extreme circumstances.

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That set the stage for Magda’s tragedy. She went into premature labor in the dead of winter. When she arrived at the hospital, she was in terrible pain. There was no pain medication given to her as she labored. But the baby was breech and could not emerge.

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Magda said she wanted to die because the pain was intolerable. Her hands were tied and her mouth was muffled with a cloth as her labor went on for almost a week. She was close to death after so many days tied to a bed in agony.

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Finally, it was decided that she could have a C-section after all. Her child died shortly after.

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She never saw her child.

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She never held her child.

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She was left with nothing but horrific pain, scars and loss.

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i want to believe in you

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But when I wrote my song “Wonder Why,” I wasn’t thinking about that traumatic event in her life. I was thinking how my friend suffers terribly with MS, which she was diagnosed with when she was only in her 40’s.

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Life has not been kind to her.

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The ultimate irony about writing this song for her, is that her situation has me feeling doubtful and wishing I could know why she has suffered so terribly.

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But Magda does not have any doubts.

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Therefore, I include at the end of my story some words from people who I definitely imagine my song touches – those who are angry with God.

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For me personally, my song expresses exactly how I feel. I’m filled with doubts, but I’m still thankful for my life despite that.

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So now I’ll share some of Magda’s words to tell this story in a different way.

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This picture with Magda and I was taken in 1987 at my baby shower for my first child, Jason. I met Magda five years earlier at a public park in Sylmar, California where we were both playing tennis.

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I DEDICATE MY SONG TO A SPECIAL FRIEND, MAGDA

She suffers with MS and at this time is seriously ill.

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On one of my first posts to this blog four years ago, I shared a beautiful exchange with my friend Magda about her belief in God. #22 OPENING THE GATES TO OUR HEARTS

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Because I was doubtful of God’s existence, I was very touched when she explained her faith. Magda has had MS (Multiple Sclerosis) for over fifteen years now. Before that, she was very active and an excellent tennis player.

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But unfortunately, her illness has continued to progress.

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Because of my blog and emailing, I became much closer to her when my journey began in 2010. I share an exchange with her below where she shared her memories of Jason with me. (Magda types in capital letters and my replies are in bold.)

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On Feb 1, 2010, Magda wrote:

JUDY, WE’VE KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR 23-24 YEARS AND I LIKED YOU FROM THE FIRST MINUTE …YOU DIDN’T CARE ABOUT MY FOREIGN ACCENT AND POOR ENGLISH LANGUAGE

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YOU INVITED ME TO THE BABY SHOWER, MY FIRST ONE EVER AND THE ONLY ONE…JASON, MY LITTLE ANGEL WAS BORN AND I REMEMBER THE DIFFICULT TIME YOU HAD FEEDING HIM…I BABY SAT HIM ONCE.

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THE WORST PHONE CALL…JASON!!!! HE WAS SO BRAVE BEFORE HIS SURGERY! I REMEMBER THAT MOMENT…I HEAR HIS SWEET VOICE IN MY EARS, AS I HAVE FOR YEARS…AND I CAN STILL SEE HIS ANGEL FACE WITH FRECKLES …I ATTENDED THE FUNERAL, BUT WATCHING THE LITTLE CASKET I CRIED NON-STOP…I LEFT…I COULD NOT WATCH THE LAST PART…

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I DON’T KNOW WHY ALL OF THIS CAME TO MY MIND…I LOST A SON 10 DAYS AFTER HIS BIRTH IN THE HOSPITAL… THEY NEVER EVEN LET ME HOLD HIM…I COULDN’T TALK WITH ANYBODY AND I JUST PRAYED TO GOD TO HELP ME AND HE DID. AND FROM THAT TIME ON, I ALWAYS ASK HIM FOR HELP…

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JUDY, KEEP SMILING…ALL YOUR PICTURES ARE LIT BY YOUR SMILE…IT IS HARD FOR ME TO FIND THE WORDS TO SAY HOW MUCH I LOVE AND APPRECIATE YOU.

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MY LOVE TO YOU, MAGDA

P.S. I TYPE WITH ONE HAND BECAUSE MY LEFT ONE DOESN’T MOVE TOO MUCH.

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On February 2, 2010, Judy Unger wrote:

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Dearest, dearest Magda, It has been 18 years since Jason died, and not a day goes by that I don’t think about him. Your words about his freckle face create tears because sometimes I can’t believe he was real. To know that you still remember him – his voice, his face – it means so much. Thank you for bringing Jason back to me for a little while this morning.

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I deeply wish you could have held your little son (and of course, that he would have lived!) He will always be a part of you.

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I love you so much,

Judy

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Two weeks ago, I wrote to Magda. Her quality of life now is very poor. She requires nursing assistance and is often in bed. She cannot see well and is usually suffering with terrible pain.

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Hi Magda,

I dedicated my most recent song to you.

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I haven’t heard from you in awhile and just wanted you to know you were in my thoughts. I always think of you and pray you are not suffering.

Love, Judy

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DEAR JUDY, THANK YOU SO MUCH MY DEAR FRIEND, I DON’T FEEL WELL; MY SPINE IS GETTING WEAKER AND IT’S HARD FOR ME TO SIT IN THE WHEELCHAIR. I AM FIGHTING ANOTHER UTI. IT IS MORE DIFFICULT IN THE SUMMER TIME. I WOULD LIKE TO HEAR YOUR SONG….

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Oh, my friend – I am so sad to hear you’re dealing with even more pain. Hopefully, the UTI will clear up soon.

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Magda, when I wrote my newest song “Wonder Why,” all I could think of was what you go through on a daily basis. As I sang the words, “For those who suffer,” I thought about how your suffering is completely unfair and awful.

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I’m going to mail you a CD so you can hear my song expressing those feelings and dedicated to you. I miss you so much and wish you would allow me to come and visit you.

Love, Judy

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OH JUDY, MY SWEET FRIEND, I RECEIVED YOUR CD TODAY! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING IT TO ME!!!! LISTENING TO YOUR SONGS AND HEARING YOUR BEAUTIFUL VOICE ALLEVIATES MY PAIN. I THANK YOU SO MUCH WITH TEARS IN MY EYES.

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I RE-READ YOUR CARD…I WISH I COULD HUG YOU, TOO. YOU HAVE A SPECIAL, SPECIAL PLACE IN MY HEART…

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I AM SO SORRY I CANNOT SEE YOU OR ANY OF MY FRIENDS, I AM TOO WEAK AND I TRY TO REST AS MUCH AS I CAN AND PRAY.

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I CANNOT CALL MYSELF A RELIGIOUS PERSON, BUT I AM A TRUE BELIEVER. WE NEED TO BELIEVE IN OUR HEARTS. I ALWAYS THANK GOD FOR EVERY MINUTE WHEN I’M WITHOUT PAIN.

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YOU ARE VERY SPECIAL, SO GIFTED, AND SO TALENTED – WITH A GREAT HEART. THAT YOU ARE AFTER SO MUCH IN YOUR LIFE – YOU ARE STILL SWEET…HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE? GOD IS THE ANSWER.

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I LOVE YOU WITH ALL MY HEART, MAGDA

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This picture was taken eight years ago. For Magda, despite her with suffering, prayers never “vanished into the void.”

This picture was taken eight years ago. For Magda, despite suffering, her prayers never “vanished into the void.”

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Not too long ago, I introduced a woman I correspond with on a grief forum named Sammi. #434 HOW IT FELT WHEN YOU WENT AWAY – PART 2

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She lost her son a year and a half ago. I want to share a recent exchange with her in regards to God and grief. My words are in bold and hers are in blue.

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Dear Sammi, I was just thinking of you again because of a message a woman wrote on a Facebook grief site. You are not alone. Below is what this woman wrote to express her agonizing pain and isolation:

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Much to the chagrin of other people in my life; I wear a mask, I am not okay, and my life is not what it should have been. I suffer every day with this grief that no one can see because I don’t want to be viewed as weak. I have never been weak. To those of you in my hometown, my family, people I have called friends for years; why are you not here for me? I have been a wreck for 4 years 6 months and I am lonely and hurting. All I have had are Internet hugs from mothers and fathers who have lost their kids too…I HURT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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YOU sit and imagine losing your child at whatever age you want, imagine seeing that lifeless body and hurting beyond anything you could ever imagine, knowing God is in control and you will only see that baby you loved, poured everything you had into that child all their life and then BAM! They are gone; you can’t see them again until God decides HE is ready for you to come home….

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Judy, this woman sounds like me. Her pain comes off the screen. I agree with her.

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Sammi, I’ve described my grief as an amputation of my soul. There is no anesthetic and it is permanent. No one can see our amputation. Because it is invisible, there is little sympathy as times goes by. I found that usually people who also have amputated souls offer the most understanding.

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The Internet grief forum where I met Sammi is a general one. It’s for all kinds of loss: parents, children, siblings and spouses. I remember being “grief-centric” for a long time because I felt that the loss of my child was worse than anyone else’s loss. But thankfully, I no longer dwell in that place.

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On this grief forum, I’m often touched by the way so many people reach out to each other no matter what their loss was.

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Below is a message that another member wrote to Sammi:

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Sammi,

I am so, so sorry for your loss. I cannot even imagine losing a child and to be honest would not ever want to try to imagine your heartache right now. Thank you so much for taking the time to bring me words of comfort; you are a good example of strength and love.

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Maybe this is not the best time for jokes, but I recently told my sister when she spoke to me about God that God wasn’t on the top of my list of people I wanted to talk with because everyone I love leaves me for him!

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In all seriousness I’ve never attempted prayer so often in my life. I will add you and your family to my ongoing ramblings with my higher power. Tammy

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Tammy, what a wonderful way to think of God! I’ll admit that I have been very angry with him and have not thought kindly about him/her lately. Your statement has put that all in a different light . . . “everyone I love leaves me for him.” Somehow, that makes it easier.

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Thank you.

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Sammi

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