myjourneysinsight

I HEAR YOUR VOICE INSIDE MY HEAD

Posted on January 19, 2014 by Judy

Click the link below to hear the most beautiful arrangement I’ve ever heard for any of my songs:

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MY SHINING STAR – KARAOKE & GUITAR INSTRUMENTAL

My voice teacher, Kimberly once told me something about songs that I found fascinating.

She said that when I share a song; it does not belong to me anymore.

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Her reasoning was that every person interprets a song with his or her own life experience. Whatever inspired me to write the song is irrelevant because my interpretation is mine alone.

The reason I mention this is that I recently wrote a new song, which I plan to name “My Shining Star.” I wrote it imagining a future lover speaking to me, and I’ve had a prophecy about that for a long time. But it turned out that my song actually held interpretations that I didn’t even realize until I started singing it. Tears gushed forth with the revelation that my song once again was a gift of healing for me.

As I begin to share about my newest song creation, I must mention how the idea for it actually began. It happened when I left a comment on one of my favorite blogs. It inspired me to write lyrics to go with the haunting chords I’d recently composed.

My comment was to Julie Goyder who writes a touching blog that I follow. Julie lives in Australia on a large acreage of land with her 20-year-old son. Her husband is in a nursing home; he suffers from Parkinson’s disease and prostate cancer. She spends a great deal of time and energy taking him on excursions and gave up her career. Clearly, she is completely devoted to both her son and husband.

Because Julie is a positive thinker and has a great deal of humor, her blog is really special to read. I relate to many things that she writes about and she has been especially supportive of so much of what I’ve written.

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Last week, Julie posted that her husband had an aggressive episode due to his dementia. He was uncooperative and the nursing home called her trying to get him to calm down. Over the phone he shouted expletives at her and she lost it.

http://jmgoyder.com/2014/01/09/one-hour/

I commented on her post with the following:

Dearest Julie,

I suffered so when my mother had dementia. She was my best friend. I remember one thing that helped me was to see her as two different people. I could hear my “healthy mom” speaking to me when I was in deep despair. I wrote a poem and I want to share it with you. I’ve revised it a little to fit your situation. And I share a link to my story where I wrote it below. Hang in there.  

Love, Judy

https://myjourneysinsight.com/2011/05/31/279-i-know-youd-tell-me/

YOU CAN NEVER LOVE MY LOVE 

You can never lose my love 

You are my shining star

 From the time I met you  I have loved you completely

 The last thing I want is for you to be sad 

Your happiness is something I want most for you 

Your joy wraps around my soul

 Fighting to stay alive is worth it

 just to see your smile

 I am not who I was and I am sorry 

I didn’t plan for this to happen 

Even when I’m scared and confused 

You must know how much I love you

 I wish you didn’t have to see me this way 

I have so many wishes

 But wanting you to remain happy  is the wish I want most 

Please don’t cry or be sad 

You are so strong, so beautiful, so blessed 

How fortunate I was to love you

I will be your shining star

 To always remind you from above 

You can never lose my love

Julie wrote:

 What an amazing friend you are, Judy – thank you so much for this. It is so beautiful! Julie

 Judy wrote:

Well Julie, you are an amazing friend as well. Here’s another blessing: By sharing that poem with you I became inspired to write a new song using it as a basis for my lyrics. So in helping you I achieved inspiration to help myself! Love is universal. It has comforted me whenever I’ve projected love that I long for due to death, absence or illness.

 So happy for you my inspired friend!

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This is a link to Julie Goyder’s blog: http://jmgoyder.com/

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While on my short travels recently, I began working on finding chords for a new song. While in Tucson I wrote verses. It was very much like a classical guitar instrumental with dark minor chords.

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Then while I was in Yosemite I wrote the chorus, which was in D major.

This song was quite different musically than anything I had ever discovered before. I was puzzled how both those parts fit together when one was a minor and the other a major.

But when I compose, I simply listen for what my song is supposed to be and allow it to happen.

For weeks I’d hoped to find inspiration for my lyrics, but I could not even write one line. Depression and discomfort in my eyes had me plodding through my life, so I let it go.

But after leaving the comment on Julie’s blog, I began to ponder the concept of a shining star and it was intriguing. As much as “my shining star” seemed like a cliché, it still spun a lot of ideas for me.

There were a lot of metaphors with a shining star. Light in the darkness was one. Light was clarity and darkness was confusion. Light represented illumination; darkness represented feeling lost. Those certainly fit into my frustration with my eyesight.

When I imagined that someday I’d fall in love again, I saw the image of a “knight in shining armor.” Originally my song started with an idea about the love from someone I would eventually meet, which was something I had envisioned for many years.

But most importantly, a shining star represented love that came from the heavens and fit in perfectly with how I have personally coped with grief. The loss of my mother resulting from dementia was the beginning of my poem. With her death only a few months ago, now she truly was my shining star.

Grief was all about love for me. My song poured forth and dazzled me with its beauty.

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But it held another meaning for me that I did not expect . . .

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© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2014. 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 acoustic guitar, composing, creativity, dealing with dementia, grief, Grief and Bereavement, grief bereavement "Loss of a Child", grief Friendship, GRIEF RELATED, guitar, having hope, healing from grief, healing music, hope, hope of healing, hopeful and optimistic, hopelessness, I hear your voice, inspiration, Judy Unger, Julie Goyder, longing for love, loss, loss of a husband, loss of a mom, love, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, maintaining hope, mother's illness, Music, music and healing, my shining star, optimism, original songs, performing, projecting love, sadness, shining star, singing, song, song arrangement, songwriting, uplifting music, writing | 1 Comment

YOU WHISPER IN MY EAR TO HEAL

Posted on January 16, 2014 by Judy

Click the blue link below to hear the most beautiful music I believe I’ve ever composed. I will be finished soon.

Message from a woman named Sammi on a grief forum:

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I ache for my son…. every second of every minute of every hour of every day. I understand that he is never coming back. I will never see him or touch him or hear his voice or hug him or smell his unique smell, ever again. I know this, I understand this and I have been able to get through each day with this knowledge.

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It’s hard not to feel resentment when you see the people around you enjoying the joy their children give them as they move through the milestones of life. I watch as life moves on and think about those of us that have been chosen to walk this horrendous path and try to make sense of how we have been touched with unbearable sorrow while others seem never to be touched. My faith was shattered when this happened and it remains shattered to this day.

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Now the hurdle that remains in front of me is the knowledge that I will wake every day to the heaviness on my heart and the hole in my soul with no cure for this and yet I am expected to go on. I love my family dearly but I know I am just existing…. waiting to die.

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These are words I wrote two years after my son died in 1992.

Response from another member:

I sit here crying. You have put my heart into your words. I will never be whole again, just broken and different. I’ve lost my only son, my only child, my only family. I need something to hold onto and pictures of my son just are not enough.

My reply:

There are few ways to describe the amputation of a soul. But you did it so well. I remember wanting to die. Then I realized I was a living dead person for many, many years. Like a blackened forest with no sign of life, one day a shoot takes hold. The forest is never the same. But life can return. I pray it does for you someday. You carry so much love for your son. The hole inside you that has sucked you in will eventually become a huge scar. Life will never be the same, but you won’t be suffering like this. I am so sorry. I cry because I remember that pain well.

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There are indeed many of us walking wounded out there. The problem is that there are so few of us compared to those who do not have to walk this path. It isolates us on a day-to-day basis because we can never put it out of our mind. Many people sympathize with us, but then push that aside and move on. We are screaming inside and smiling on the outside. They cannot possibly understand this pain nor do you want them to. I am where you are…. trying to move on. I find that I am learning how to pretend very well and hide my true feelings.

This was our second holiday season without our beautiful boy and I managed to put the tree up. That’s it. Nothing else. I guess that was a big step.

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My words:

Grief is isolation in the purest sense. I surrounded myself with fellow grievers and although it helped me to survive, the exquisite agony was always there. And such a burden it was. It left me unable to think without reliving his death for years and years. I hate to say how long it took me to “feel better.” I do not say recovered. There is no recovery from this.

My wisdom after 20 years is that healing is possible. It is imperceptible at first and not adequate when the pain is so horrific. But it happened for me. I was blessed to find something where my son returned into my life in a beautiful way – through music. Just this past weekend, my son came into my bed at night and held me close and whispered a new song into my ear. I haven’t recorded my vocal for it yet. But the music speaks – it speaks very clearly.”

I’m thrilled beyond words that my beautiful son is my inspiration every day of my life. He is gone, but has returned to me in a different form. That is healing. And it is possible. I am living proof.

Love, Judy

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Judy, that is very beautiful – it brought tears to my eyes. My problem is that I can’t see getting over 34 years of this beautiful soul…. ever. I am happy you have found this way to connect with your son and that it gives you peace.

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Thank you. You will not get over it. And comparisons aren’t helpful either. When I was deeply grieving I would have told you my situation was worse because I had to deal with a young child whom I was a caregiver for. My daily life was ripped away and his room remained with all his toys and clothes to go through. I thought it was much worse because of that.

But later on I learned that child loss is a horror at any age. Whether a son lives 34 years or dies as a baby – it is longing for a future that is only a dream and not a possibility.

You cannot see the road in front of you because you are shattered. It is about putting one foot in front of the other. But you are moving forward. Because I am far ahead of you, I cannot really take your hand. But I am proof that peace is possible.

Sometimes, things are there that we cannot see. Grief is that way. Thank you for telling me that my song touched you. What you don’t know is that my song has lyrics and they are dedicated to you because when I sing them – I know they are for you. My son whispered this song to me for a reason.

I’ll share more soon. Love, Judy

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Posted in Healing and Hope | Tagged acoustic guitar, child's death, compassionate friends, composing, creativity, death, death of a child, grief, Grief and Bereavement, grief bereavement "Loss of a Child", grief Friendship, GRIEF RELATED, guitar, having hope, healing from grief, healing music, hope, hope of healing, hopeful and optimistic, hopelessness, Hypnotherapy, inspiration, Judy Unger, loss, loss of a child, love, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, maintaining hope, Music, music and healing, my shining star, optimism, original songs, performing, sadness, singing, songwriting, uplifting music, whisper in my ear to heal, writing | 1 Comment

MY JOURNEY IN SIGHT – PART 2

Posted on January 15, 2014 by Judy

Three weeks ago:

I drifted into the hypnotic sleep quickly and deeply. The peacefulness was so beautiful and I heard Connie’s voice softly say, “Allow an image to form that represents your heart.”

The first thing that came into my mind was a tear. I tried to describe it.

“It’s a crystal teardrop – and is almost like an upside-down heart. It has no facets and is smooth and clear.”

I marveled at the beautiful image I had picked. Just that week, I had sung a vocal for a new arrangement of my song “Crystal Oceans.” Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence that I chose a crystal.

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Then Connie said, “What would the crystal teardrop tell Judy if it could speak?”

“The crystal teardrop would tell her that there is beauty and clarity that results from her tears and sadness. She has a pure heart.”

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After I awoke from hypnosis, Connie and I discussed the image of my crystal teardrop further. I found a negative aspect to it – crystal meant that my heart was like stone, a lyric line I had written describing coldness and lack of feeling. Crystals were hard and cold.

But as Connie and I talked about it more, I realized that crystals were something to be treasured and each one was unique. And crystals grew from powerful forces in nature.

My tears flowed easily. That was why the image came to me.

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Two weeks ago:

I arrived for my hypnotherapy session completely distraught. My eyes were foggy and the sensations were impossible for me to ignore.

There have been several times in my life when I had physical conditions that were definitely stress-related. Over time, those problems resolved. One eye specialist recommended hypnosis as a way to deal with my discomfort related to posterior vitreous detachment.

Now I was suffering at a time when I had less stress than usual in my life. I desperately wished I could solve this mystery. The greatest stress I had was because my eyes were always bothering me!

Connie began our session by helping me with a technique known as “tapping.”

First, I spoke about what I was feeling. She took notes and then our work began.

I followed her lead and she repeated words that I had just said. I repeated those words while at the same time tapping areas of my body in a repetitive fashion.

Tears were pouring from my eyes as I repeated painful phrases:

“I’m angry. This isn’t fair. I don’t want to live with this condition. The doctors told me I’d just get used to it – but I can’t! I could have surgery that might cause me to lose my eyeball! I don’t know what to do. I’m lost!”

The tapping went on for about ten minutes and then we stopped. Connie asked me how I felt.

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Feelings were all in the forefront now. This technique was excellent at causing me to let down my guard. Tears and feelings kept gushing out.

I sobbed, “Oh, I have a lot of baggage around doctors! After all, my son died following heart surgery when I was told his odds were excellent. They were wrong!”

With those words, I realized that I had not truly let go of past trauma.

I cried and cried. And then I felt better.

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Today I had an appointment with my regular doctor. He was very sympathetic and kind as he looked right into my pained eyes.

I could feel my lip trembling as I thanked him. He told me he would be my advocate and put in a request that my HMO cover the cost for my second opinion. He said it would probably be denied – but it was still worth trying. I felt so grateful for him.

Together we went over my entire history of eye issues that began shortly before I had 3 cataract surgeries in 2012. Since then, I had seen at least five different eye specialists within my HMO and had gone for another outside opinion, which I was not reimbursed for.

Before I left, I mentioned something that Dr. Sam had suggested – was there any rheumatological testing he could do to look for other causes of dry eyes?

My doctor said, “Wow, your friend really knows his stuff.” Yes, I’m going to order lab tests for that right now.

I asked him how long it would be until I’d get a decision from the HMO. He said, “Don’t cancel your outside appointment. If it takes a long time that will actually work in your favor. Let me know what you find out from the doctor you’re seeing at Jules Stein Eye Institute.”

I told him I certainly would.

I walked to my car. My eyes were half closed and I felt like something was crawling under my eyelids. This could not be normal and I hoped I’d get some answers soon.

I closed my eyes and sat in my car. I wanted to listen to a recording of the new song I composed over the weekend.

Even though I didn’t feel well, I was completely lifted out of sadness because God had sent me this new song. It helped me in such a magnificent way.

I was blessed.

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Tagged acknowledging grief, cataract surgery, cataract surgery complications, Cataracts when in fifties, changing your life, compassion, coping with grief, crystal, crystal teardrops, crystal tears, discouragement, dry eye syndrome, dry eyes, eye discomfort, eye issues, eye problems, eyesight adjustment, eyesight issues, having hope, HMO, hypnosis, Hypnotherapy, inspiration, Judy Unger, loss, music therapy, musical inspiration, optimism, Posterior Vitreous Detachment, releasing pain, self improvement, staying hopeful, suppressing emotion, teardrops, tears | 4 Comments

MY JOURNEY IN SIGHT – PART 1

Posted on January 12, 2014 by Judy

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“Hello, this is Angie. I was on vacation for a week, but I was looking at your chart note and he wants you to contact him only if you want surgery. So let me know if you want surgery. If you do, then I’m going to pass the message on to him and he’ll have his surgery scheduler schedule you. Okay? Give me a call back at . . .”

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Audio Transcription of Phone Message from 1/7/14

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Something was wrong. I was having trouble concentrating because my eyes were slightly burning and foggy a great deal of the time.

On a daily basis, I was suffering and plagued with intense dry eye syndrome again – the familiar feeling of feathers and sensations started to make me crazy!

This condition was worse when I was away from home. It plagued me during my recent trips, so it wasn’t about spending a lot of time on a computer.

Gradually, it dawned on me that something had worsened. I was overwhelmed as my eyesight became more and more unbearable. My mind chattered to overcome negative thoughts and sadness. I was losing the battle.

The eye department and facility where I had my cataract surgery did not give immediate appointments unless it was an emergency. This wasn’t an emergency, but clearly I needed to address it. The last time I had gone to that facility with similar symptoms, I received admonishment that my condition was irreversible and I just needed to “get used to it.” I was given a prescription for eye drops (Restasis) and told that eventually my nasty floaters and blurs, which were a result of Posterior Vitreous Detachment in both eyes, would be less noticeable.

It occurred to me that perhaps my physical discomfort was tipping the scales for me now. It was hard for me to open my eyes. I closed them and tried to ignore the dirty vision in front of me, even though I began to feel desperate. Ophthalmology appointments with my HMO were never easy to get and it wasn’t truly an emergency. Or was it?

Depression began to descend upon me like a dark cloud. I found myself crying easily and realized I needed to do something. But what could I do?

I decided to call a retinologist whom I had last seen ten months earlier. He seemed compassionate and willing to help me – but the only way he could do that was through surgery. He said it would be best for me to wait and get in touch with him the following year if my problem hadn’t improved.

He could restore clear vision with a Vitrectomy, but it was an extremely risky procedure and he would do it only in circumstances where a patient could not function otherwise.

But when I called, I kept reaching a recording that his secretary was on vacation. I tried calling back several times with the hope of simply scheduling an appointment. My calls were not returned. A week later, I finally received a call back.

When I heard the voicemail, which I transcribed above – I was very upset.

Such extremes! On one end, I was told that there was nothing that could be done and the other choice would be to have radical surgery. There had to be another answer! Perhaps there were other options. I was tired of only seeing things in black and white, which I often found myself doing.

I went on the Internet and saw that there were other remedies for floaters.

I contacted my regular doctor to tell him what was going on. He was really the best part of my HMO, because he was terrific about following up anytime I asked him anything.

Once again, he was my champion. Within an hour of my emailing him, the retinologist suddenly called and was willing to speak to me.

I described my symptoms and the retinologist explained that surgery would only worsen the dryness I was experiencing. Vitrectomy was what he specialized in and with a 10% chance of losing my eyesight, it wasn’t something I would consider. He said, “I can’t help you, but you can see a cornea specialist for the dryness.”

The following day, I was given an appointment. I couldn’t believe it!

I explained my symptoms to this cornea doctor. He said, “Dry eyes tend to worsen with age and hormonal changes. Sadly, it isn’t something that can be cured. Cutting into the eye with cataract surgery has a permanent effect upon the production of tears. Artificial tears are not the same in terms of lubrication as natural tears.

He was right about that. I poured them into my eyes and it made no difference. I still felt sensations and pain. He gave me his favorite remedy. He told me to microwave rice in a tube sock, and then use it as a warm compress on my eyes twice a day.

I followed his instructions, but found little relief.

In the Los Angeles area where I lived, there was a world-famous eye clinic at UCLA. I decided it was time to go outside my HMO to get another opinion.

I asked my good friend, Dr. Sam to find the name of someone I could see. He followed through and I scheduled an appointment with a well known doctor. It would be on the first Monday in February. This was going to cost me a lot of money, but I decided it was far more important than anything else I could buy.

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I copied this from a site on Facebook called Sun Gazing. Not sure who the artist was, because I want to give credit.

I copied this from a site on Facebook called Sun Gazing. Not sure who the artist was, because I wish I could give credit.

My hypnotherapy sessions every week became very intense as I worked hard to discover ways to help myself. I plodded onward and was thankful for the relief I found during those amazing sessions.

One thing I learned, was that I was not being gentle with myself. Criticism was something I had lived with all of my life. Being self-critical was a habit I wished I could overcome.

Two words also played over and over for me. They were: compare and despair.

Those words weren’t helping me. True, I had already suffered the horrible loss in my life of my child. That meant nothing could compare and there was no allowing for despair. And it meant I wasn’t grateful for all the possibilities that my situation could be much worse.

As my eye condition began to overwhelm me, it reminded me very much of grief.

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AN UGLY CONVERSATION

What I am about to share is very ugly. It is about the chatter that has gone on in my mind and encompasses so much energy. There are two voices in my mind that battle endlessly.

I try to use a filter to help myself. I call it the GENTLE FILTER.

This conversation I am sharing is an expression of complete vulnerability. I am honest and raw.

One voice is called: GRIEF. Grief represents sadness and hopelessness.

The other voice is the INNER CRITIC. That voice is judgmental and harsh.

GRIEF: Oh my God! Please, please – I cannot face opening my eyes. It hurts and it’s horrible that I have to look at what is right in front of me. I cannot accept this. I just want to see the way I used to without fog, blurs, shadows and ugly lines swimming all over my eyesight. My eyes burn and I don’t want to open them. Why did this have to happen?

INNER CRITIC: You are weak – come on! You’re lucky that you can still drive and see well enough to function. This problem is a result of your inability to accept the aging process. You are making your own problem worse. You are suffering with this because you are unwilling to be happy about your life. Now that you’ve radically transformed your future by ending your 31-year marriage, did you think you’d be free from suffering?

GRIEF: I know it could be worse, I want to celebrate that it isn’t blindness or cancer. I am grateful for all the beauty in my life, but I’m still sad about this. I sure miss my mom and dad. They really cared about me and would have helped me figure out what to do.

INNER CRITIC: You don’t really miss them. They would have only suffered to see you going through this. It’s better they’re gone.

GRIEF: I have grieved so many things in my life. I believe in healing. I’m okay about so many other losses – but not this. I cannot find a way to get used to this. Also, I was so proud to be a shining example of finding joy again in life. Now I am a fraud because I don’t look forward to the future anymore. I want to hide and curl up in a ball. What is the point of anything when I want to just close my eyes? I thank God every moment because I have my music to soothe me. There is still so much I want to do, but I don’t feel well. I think I’m ill.

INNER CRITIC: You’re not ill. You are suffering because you aren’t willing to face your grief. You are over-eating and biting your nails – all of this is a result of your weakness. If you treated your body better, you would feel better. This is not about your eyes.

GRIEF: I surrender. I give up. I’m sad.

GENTLE FILTER:

You are suffering and trying to comfort yourself any way you can. Do not give up hope.