I KNEW LOSING YOU WOULDN’T BE EASY

This bird definitely has a chip on his shoulder!

This bird definitely has a chip on his shoulder!

One of the harder aspects of going through a divorce has been trying to alleviate the suffering brought upon my children by change. I’d like to think that my children have learned to become more resilient and independent with the change thrust upon them as a result of my decision to divorce. They certainly were forced to grow up quickly. For a long time I held them back, which added to my guilt.

 

Thankfully, I’ve let go of much of that anguish. It’s been very difficult for me not to spin stories in my mind about the effect divorce has had upon my children. But mindsets can be adjusted.

 

I remind myself that prior to divorce, my children simply witnessed a sad marriage. Staying married because it was “best for my children” (and parents) was the story that I believed in and followed for over thirty years.

 

But I have no regrets about any part of my past life. I simply am grateful that I had the courage and clarity about what I wanted for the rest of my life.

 

I separated from my husband (by choice) ten months ago, and my oldest son (who is 22) chose to live with my husband. My daughter chose to live with me (she is 19) and my youngest son (16) is with me during the week and sees his father on 3 out of 4 weekends.

 

When I moved out, I fled the noise and wrote a song that I originally named “When Noise Turned to Music.” In my former life, I was overwhelmed by the constant bombardment upon my senses; the television was always on in my bedroom and everyone was usually yelling to be heard, including me.

 

On top of that, we owned a parrot that continuously shrieked and a Chihuahua that yapped at me whenever I came near him. There was constant stress from two cats; one vomited frequently, so I constantly had to watch where I stepped. The other one urinated all over the house. I’m sure that poor creature felt stressed and was probably acting out.

 

I mentioned my childrens’ suffering when I began this story. One of the saddest adjustments for them was the loss of their pets; only the Chihuahua has stayed because he is my husband’s constant companion.

 

In order to sell our home, the two cats needed to go first. I wasn’t able to help much with finding them a new home. At the time, I had just moved out and was trying to set up a home for my two teenagers. I was also recovering from three cataract surgeries, with unrelenting complications. I tried contacting a few places that adopted cats, but had little success. Who wanted two cats that messed up a house?

 

My oldest son was devastated, and went to pet adoption locations every weekend. He sat all day long next to a cage with two terrified cats without a single person expressing interest in adopting them.

 

But after several months, my husband and son found a rescue organization that helped place those cats in a home where they could be together. It truly was a miracle. A month later, my oldest son was elated when he heard the cats had adjusted and were doing well. It was such a relief for him and for everyone in our family.

 

After our home sold two months ago, my husband decided to live in a small condo with another couple. He rented a room from them and put most of his possessions into storage. Initially, it was going to be temporary, but recently he decided he would stay where he is for another two years. After that, he told our children that he planned to retire and move to Mexico. That was his dream. He told them he would send them plane tickets so they could come to visit him on the beach in Acapulco.

This picture was taken five years ago.

This picture was taken five years ago.

It’s been tough for me to watch my oldest son adjust. We were very close when my father died 15 months ago, and it was my son who found out I wanted a divorce before his father even knew.

 

I know that he deeply wants to be there for his father. I’m so proud of him for being so loving and devoted.

 

Only a few months ago, he graduated from college. Since then, it has been extremely stressful for him to find a job. He is desperate to change his circumstances and complains bitterly that he hates being dependent. There is no privacy where he lives; he sleeps on the floor sharing a room with his father.

 

I told him he was always welcome to live with me. He said that my coop was a palace compared to the 800 square foot apartment where he currently lived. There were even more people there on the weekend, including my youngest son.

 

It was ironic to hear that, because my coop only had two bedrooms. Before I moved in, I created a third bedroom for my youngest son by having a wall built to separate it from the living room.

 

The other half of the living room was my office and truly my living space. Recently, I bought a futon and put it in that area so my son would have a more comfortable place to sleep (instead of an air mattress) whenever he came over.

 

More and more, I have encouraged him to “take a break.” He was grateful for the peacefulness of my coop every time he visited. But it was clear, he did not want to hurt his father.

 

His unspoiled nature amazed me, but at the same time saddened me. He was joyful and so appreciative that I had frozen burritos for him in my freezer. He slept in his clothes and never complained about sleeping on the floor.

 

I tried to be patient, hoping his circumstances would change. At the same time, I continued to gently coax him with positive statements and encouragement. I saw my daughter blossom from her six-month paralysis after we moved, which gave me hope.

 

What prompted me to write today was that I wanted to tell a touching story about adjusting to change and where it could lead.

 

Two weeks ago, I took small steps to help my oldest son. One of the greatest stressors in his life was the parrot that he loved.

 

Keeping Tiki in a tiny apartment with many other people was quite challenging for him. But Tiki was his best friend and the epitome of unconditional love.

 

He did not want to lose the last vestige of his former life.

 

But pressure was mounting for my son. The neighbors where he lived were complaining about the bird’s screaming noise. The bird was often subjected to cigarette smoke and was left alone a lot of the time while my son looked for work.

 

I knew my son was suffering. He was required to bring the cage outside and inside every day. One night he called his father to ask “permission” to stay over at my house. He wouldn’t be home to bring the cage in that night and his dad was upset with him.

 

I racked my brain and convinced my son to let me help him.  I found a bird store that boarded birds for $5 a day, and my son agreed that Tiki could stay there until his father moved into a new place.

 

That night, he brought the cage and put it out on the patio of my coop. In the morning, we planned to bring Tiki to the bird store where he would be boarded. It was that night, when I learned that my husband’s situation was not all that temporary.

 

Now it looked like it would be best to find Tiki a new home. My son seemed resigned to the situation. He didn’t cry or show how heartbroken he was, but I could feel his anguish.

 

The next day, Tiki left my son’s life.

 

I told the owner of the pet store that if anyone was interested in adopting Tiki, we would be grateful. The owner told me it was unlikely because Tiki was so aggressive.

 

Keeping him at my coop simply was not an option. Although I had showered with that bird for two years, I was reminded again how loud he was when I had him that one night. I fully expected to hear complaints from my neighbors when Tiki began screaming as the sun rose early in the morning. It reminded me of how grateful I was for the peace and quiet of my new life.

 

It looked like finding a home for Tiki wasn’t going to be easy. Since Conures can sell for $400, I started with an ad on Craigslist for $200 and a week later lowered it to $100. I had not a single response.

 

The boarding fee was going to keep adding up and most importantly, I wanted Tiki to have a good home. On a whim, I decided to list him for free.

 

I wrote, “Going through a divorce and Tiki needs a new home.”

 

I posted an adorable picture of him, which is below. I took that picture in the backyard of my former home.

Three years ago, I wrote about Tiki when I began my blog. Here is a link to that story below:

 

#97 TO HAVE COURAGE OR BEAK CAREFUL

Just gorgeous

I didn’t write that he loved to draw blood and was very aggressive; or that his screeches were worse than fingernails on a chalkboard.

 

I broke away from my computer to run an errand. When I came home and sat down at my computer, my jaw dropped. I’d never seen my email “inbox” with over 200 messages before!

 

Message after message begged to come pick up Tiki. I deleted the ad and methodically sent a copied reply to every single message. It was:

 

Thank you for your interest in Tiki. He unfortunately is very loud and can bite. I’ve received over 100 messages and haven’t decided yet. If I don’t find him a home by the end of this week, I’ll let you know.

 

Many of the messages piqued my interest. I created a folder for the best ones. There were at least fifty messages in that folder. After I sent my honest message about his character flaws, I still kept receiving messages from people wanting Tiki – they didn’t really care if he was aggressive.

 

Here were some of those messages:

 

Hello! I am interested in your little birdy. I want to provide a home for him or her she/he is so cute and gorgeous. Please let me know how we can make arrangements. Thank you!

 

I am very interested in your beautiful little Conure. I had one before but I gave him away to my sister to keep her company, now I am disabled and I have been looking for a parrot to keep me company, since I am home all day. I know that they need a lot of attention and I can teach him many tricks and he can learn to talk. So you can see that I will be a good match.

 

I’m very interested in giving Tiki a great home. I love birds as well as my mother. Please contact me for pick up. Thank u so much.  

 

HELLO:) HOPE YOUR WELL..LOVE YOUR BIRD..IF U HAVENT FOUND A HOME..I HAVE THE PERFECT HOME 🙂 MY MOM LOST HER BIRD YEARS BACK.. I WANT TO GIFT IT TO HER..

 

I am very sorry about your divorce :(
 You always can call and ask for him, and stop by and visit him.
 No problem.
You will always be #1 
and I give you my word. All my family will give him a lot of love and care.


 

Hello I am a vet tech student that can provide a loving caring home for this sun conure. THANKS.

 

WE HAVE AROUND TEN BIRDS HE WILL HAVE A GOOD HOME HERE. THANKS.

 

We have a ranch. My neighbors have horses, so loud is not a problem. Also we are used to bird bites. LOL, my son’s parrot does that occasionally.

I took this picture of Tiki after our shower together.

I took this picture of Tiki after we took a shower together.– 

I wanted my son to choose the best person. I was excited that he had so many choices and hoped that involving him in the process would help ease his sorrow.

 

When I called him and mentioned my free ad, he became irritable. He said he wasn’t rushing to do favors for strangers. I told him I’d interview and choose someone, because at that moment I changed my mind about involving him. I could see it was too painful. But he still wasn’t interested.

 

Then I reminded him of the boarding cost, which was a big mistake. He became angry and said, “I’ll just go pick him up right now to save you money!”

 

I called him back and apologized. I told him that I knew this was hard for him and I would be more patient.

Kissing Tiki

Even though I had taken down the Craigslist free ad, I kept receiving messages. I decided to send an honest message to everyone who wrote me:

 

I will let you know when my son is ready. He’s having a hard time with it and it’s a tough choice!

 

Another week went by.

 

My son did not visit me that week. The following week he called and said he would visit for two days.

 

While we were on the phone, I gently asked him if he felt ready to let go of Tiki. He surprised me and said yes; he told me he would appreciate if I picked someone.

 

I decided that what was most important would be finding someone who lived nearby. That way my son could visit Tiki.

 

I waited until the night before he came to send out a message. I wanted to be sure in case he changed his mind. That night, I sent an email to five prospects. They all lived nearby, so I asked them if I could set up a time to visit them the following day.

 

When my son showed up at lunchtime, it was interesting that I had not heard back from any of those five people. I was surprised considering the intensity of receiving so many messages from them earlier.

 

Two hours later, I realized I needed to dig deeper. It was already 2:00 p.m. and I glanced at my folder with dozens of messages. One stood out for me.

 

This woman mentioned she was sorry about my divorce. I liked her compassion.

 

She had written her phone number, so I decided I’d just call to see where she lived. She had a different area code and I thought it might be closer to where my son was living with his father.

 

When she answered the phone, I quickly explained why I was calling. It took almost a minute for her to connect with who I was. I told her I was the “lady with a birdy needing a new home.”

 

Suddenly, this woman began to scream. She was squealing and laughing and practically dropped the phone. She behaved as if she had won the lottery!

 

Her bubbly words spilled forth non-stop. She raved about how much love her family would give Tiki.

 

Over and over she exclaimed, “Thank you, Lord! Thank you, God!” In her words, everything happened in a way where God led Tiki to her. I listened and smiled; it actually was a puzzle how I had called her out of so many possibilities.

 

I wanted my son to hear how excited she was, and he was in the same room with me. I handed him the phone and was surprised when he began to make arrangements for her to pick up Tiki. I motioned to him and told him to wait. I wanted to find out where she lived because there were so many other good prospects.

 

He handed me back the phone. When she told me where she lived, my heart sank. She lived almost an hour away.

 

With coolness in my voice, I told her I would let her know. There were closer prospects I planned to interview and my son and I needed to think about it.

 

Her voice halted and quivered as she said, “Really? Are you telling me this isn’t for sure?” Her disappointment was so palpable that I thought she might start crying.

 

Then she began to babble again, “Please come and see where I’ll keep him. Your son can visit him anytime – I promise!”

 

She added, “I know God is giving me Tiki for a reason. You see my father left me when I was 5 years old. It happened when my parents divorced and I never saw him again. The only memory I have of him was his bird. It was a parrot that looked exactly like Tiki. When I saw Tiki’s picture, I was reminded of my father and knew Tiki was important in my life!”

 

After her story, I sighed and relented.

 

A few minutes later, I hung up the phone. I had given her husband directions and the whole family was on their way.

 

An hour later, a van with four people drove into the parking lot of my coop. My son and I came out to meet them and the plan was that they would follow us to the bird store.

 

The woman’s name was Connie. She ran to meet me and hugged me tightly. Her eyes were glistening.

 

At that moment, I knew I had made the right choice.

 

My son was given the royal treatment. His eyes were bright as he thanked her profusely. He told her that he only wanted Tiki to have a good home and was so glad to know she would take such good care of him.

 

When we arrived at the bird store, my son was excited to see Tiki because he hadn’t seen him for two weeks. Tiki danced joyfully and their reunion was beautiful to watch. I took their picture, but it came out blurry. I told my son I planned to write and share this story.

 –Tiki 1

The family paid the two-week boarding fee, and we gave them bird food.

 

It was finally time to say goodbye. My son put Tiki back in his cage. Before they left, we gave them all kinds of information about Tiki. We wanted to be sure they knew about his favorite snacks and ways to get him to come out of his cage.

 

In only a few days, my son planned to drive to their home with a larger cage that was in storage. He would borrow a friend’s pickup truck to bring it to their home. I had said to him, “They own a van, so why don’t you let them come get the cage? It would be easier for you.”

 

He shook his head. He wanted to see where Tiki would be living and he felt welcomed. I understood.

 

The best moment happened before they drove away.

 

Connie gripped my son’s hands and looked him right in the eyes.

 

She said, “We will take good care of Tiki; don’t you worry. You can take him for the weekend anytime or come for a barbecue and visit him. Tiki will always be your bird. We’re just holding him for you. When your circumstances change, you come and get him and take him home! This is temporary.”

When she said that, I felt tears trickling down my throat.

Tiki 2

© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2013. 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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LOVE WILL GUIDE MY WAY

Guitar and pick

The tingly sensations and bounce in my step have continued since my meditation-healing workshop of two weeks ago. My eyes are still annoying, but my heart is peaceful and joyous. Music and writing continues to explode from me and I am very excited about life.

When I first separated from my husband, I was anguished about how much it affected my children. I am not anguished now because I’ve changed my mindset and let go of many of the stories that made me sad.

My children are still adjusting, but I must mention that recently my 19-year-old daughter has gone in a direction that has put me in a state of amazement.

Over this past year, she discovered her own passion for music and songwriting!

Every day, our small apartment is filled with the sounds of her singing and playing guitar. I chuckle because she uses my old classical guitar. It still has sand in it from all the times I played it on the beach.

Her talent is beautiful for me to witness. I have to stifle my emotions and maintain my cool when she shares how excited she is over writing a new song.

This past weekend, she performed at a large YouTube Convention in Los Angeles (near where we live). She and 24 other musicians won the opportunity to perform there out of 6,000 entries.

Last night, she asked me, ”Mom, do you have a condenser mic, a stand and a pop shield that I can borrow? I’m recording at a friend’s studio. Oh, and maybe a gear bag for me to carry it in?

I certainly had those items. As I gathered them for her, I broadly grinned.

I guess I’m a really cool mom since I can do these things for her. In the past I’ve offered to help her, but she wasn’t too receptive. Maybe it’s changing!

My guitar is in my bedroom and I have started writing a new song. The first verse is done and the lyrics are scrawled on that notebook next to my guitar.

My guitar is in my bedroom and I have started writing a new song. The first verse is done and the lyrics are scrawled on that notebook next to my guitar.-

Yesterday, I played tennis at a private home.

 

Lately, my focus on tennis has really drifted, but I know how important it is for me to be outside (and exercise). I play women’s doubles, which requires less physical effort than singles – but our games are swift and require concentration. I usually have a shortage of that, since I’m often writing lyrics in my head while I play tennis.

 

The woman who owned the home where I played yesterday had been on vacation for 3 weeks. I have played at her home for at least ten years. She had just gotten back from an excursion that included countries such as Spain and Morocco. But it didn’t take long before my “trip” came up in our conversation.

 

When I casually mentioned that I went somewhere different, my friends all stopped talking and gazed at me with curiosity.

 

I simply said, “Well, I didn’t go to far – but I did fly somewhere cool with Ayahuasca medicine.”

 

As I relayed details to those three women, they were completely entranced hearing about my experience.

 

My friend, a world traveler, had eyes so huge that they were bulging. She exclaimed, “You are so brave! I could never do anything like that.”

 

Then she proceeded to tell me of a man she knew who had done Ayahuasca. It had changed his life so much that he insisted his 80-year-old father try it. She was laughing when she said, “You know, he almost killed his father!”

Well, it seemed that my “trip” (and its after effects) superceded the tennis yesterday. Even though I’m not a world traveler, I guess I had a trip that was fascinating for my friends to hear about!

I like adding pictures to my stories to make things more interesting. This marker rendering of mine feels like summer! I hardly ever eat red meat anymore.

I like adding pictures to my stories to make things more interesting. This marker rendering of mine feels like summer! I hardly ever eat red meat anymore.

Since my Ayahuasca experience, I am making a few changes in my life. I have decided to discontinue voice lessons for now so that my energy surrounding singing can be redirected. I really prefer to focus on singing with emotion, rather than concentrating on my vocal technique. But I definitely needed to learn about my instrument and how to best use it.

Recording vocals while I was learning helped me to improve, but at the same time it added a lot of pressure. I realize that for the last four months, I haven’t enjoyed singing that much.

 

But I do appreciate my vocal improvement. I have so many wonderful “tools” in my vocal toolbox that I never had because of Kimberly. I will certainly miss her, because she has become a good friend. We will definitely stay in touch and I know I will still see her occasionally.

 

I have every intention of practicing and maintaining my voice. I love where I am and feel much more confident about singing for other people than I ever did before.

 

This afternoon, I went into the recording studio to sing vocals for my new arrangement of “Beside Me Always.”

 

The first notes of this gorgeous new arrangement transport me to a grassy bluff at the cemetery. I am standing over Jason’s grave while a breeze envelops me and caresses my broken heart.

 

When I sang my song today, I was quite moved. There is nothing in the world that could describe how beautiful it felt to sing while my heart was bursting. Nothing at all.

 

I allowed for emotion, but didn’t let it destroy my ability to sing. It isn’t easy to sing and cry simultaneously! But although I sang my song with tears and emotion – I wasn’t sad.

 

Jason was right there beside me in that recording booth.

Jason in the breeze

My correspondence with a woman named Sammi on an Internet grief forum:

It’s been one year; it’s hard to believe. I slowly rock back and forth and remember how I was one year ago, the shock, the numbness, and the horror of it all. The world continued to turn, life did go on…..for everyone else….not for me. My life has stalled and I continue to have anger and guilt issues.

 

I have learned to put my false face on when I am at work. I laugh and talk with people and as soon as I am alone that face is gone. People don’t understand what you are dealing with so they really don’t want to see it all the time. This problem cannot be fixed. This problem will never go away and there is no bright side to this. I am tired of hurting. I am tired of having an ache in my soul and a hole in my heart. I am tired of pretending that everything is OK. I am tired of not having anything good to look forward to. I am just tired.

 

One Year. I used to say; “My how time flies” but I didn’t really know how true that was. How a year can crawl by and fly by at the same time is beyond me but…this one did. I look out over my quiet, sleeping neighborhood and notice how little has changed and yet…..everything has changed. My heart aches every time I hear or read about someone losing a child. I wish I didn’t understand how that felt. I still want to rant and rave and scream until I can’t scream anymore. I have cried enough tears to fill an ocean and yet they still come like I have never cried at all. It hurts too much to face each day without my son but I know, to stop living, is to stop honoring his life. Child loss, no matter the age of the child, is the most piercing, gnawing, constant, lingering pain that will never go away and those of us that have gone through it……will live the rest of our lives wrapped in the mantle of this pain.

 

Oh, my friend, how my heart aches for you. Just as you wrote about the ache when hearing other people’s’ loss of a child – that is my connection to you!

 

See, I was where you were exactly once – Hopeless and tired. In fact, your words about tears filling an ocean are unbelievable since I wrote a poem of that title. It really felt as if my tears did fill an ocean.

 

You already know it is a horrible road. What choice is there? Believe it or not – there are choices. I know people who have died from grief. You are living for your son’s memory, he is your light in this darkness.

 

Your soul is amputated and you are bleeding profusely. I cannot take away your pain. Promises that it will get better sound too unbelievable for you right now. If hell exists, it is right here on this earth after our child dies.

 

I knew this was your one-year anniversary and meant to write to you sooner. You made it through one year and that is a huge achievement. Each minute farther away from the amputation of your soul may be slow, torturous and imperceptible – but it is farther along. You will get there. You will always miss your son, but life won’t be filled with torture. Don’t give up hope.

 

Love, Judy

SOMEWHERE I CAN'T SEE

© 2013 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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LAUGHTER AND TEARS – PART 2

Clicking the blue link plays audio:

 Laughter and Tears Home Recording 11/23/16 Copyright 2016 by Judy Unger

Below is a link to the first blog post about this song:

LAUGHTER AND TEARS – PART 1

 

Flowers-Orchid Spray

 

LAUGHTER AND TEARS

Copyright 2011 by Judy Unger

 

I still remember the laughter we shared

In the beginning, we danced and we played

Back then, we had so many highs and they’d been

from the music we felt within

 

Sadness was lonely; it tore us apart

Numbness and pain left no room in my heart

 

I still remember the tears we once shared

We both cried for our suffering

And you didn’t know about the irony

Those tears stole you from me

 

Sadness was lonely; it tore us apart

Losing the laughter is what broke my heart

 

I still remember the laughter and tears

In the beginning it was laughter, then tears

And over time I’ve come to see

How grateful I can be

to realize you still love me 

 –

In December of 2010, I expanded upon a song that I wrote at the age of 19. My song was named Laughter and Tears. The song I composed in 1979 had beautiful chord progressions and a haunting melody.

My song was written during a time of disillusionment. I was tired of the emotional upheaval I kept experiencing in my relationship with my best friend, Cheryl. All the “ups and downs” became a metaphor of laughter and tears, which seemed perfect for me.

Cheryl and I at my wedding in 1981. Cheryl died five years ago from breast cancer.

Cheryl and I at my wedding in 1981. Cheryl died five years ago from breast cancer.

Like many of my songs, I revised it and found many of those same feelings within my marriage.

 

At the time I revised my song, I was still in the state of denying my true feelings. I told myself many stories that allowed me to stay in my marriage for 31 years. One of the stories I told myself was how beautiful it was that my husband and I had stayed together through thick and thin.

 

The ending line of my song was, “I’ve learned to see how grateful I can be; to realize you still love me . . .”

 

I told myself I was grateful in order to cope with my disillusionment.

 

When I stopped suppressing my feelings only a year later, I awakened to the awareness that there was little demonstration of love in our marriage. Remaining married and staying in our miserable relationship was more about fear than love.

 

Suddenly, those lyrics were far too painful for me to sing.

 

For the last 2 ½ years, I attempted to replace the last lyric lines of my song. Time and time again I scrawled out replacement lines but nothing really hit me and I discarded this song.

 

Then I found my insight. I wasn’t supposed to change those lyrics.

 

When I sing them, I am reminded of how I had deeply wished things were different. I remember that I found the courage to change my life and for that I am grateful!

 

I married at the age of 20 and planned to stick it out for the rest of my life. I was in a huge “mind rut” because I saw no other options for myself. When my intuition told me that I was unhappy, I countered it with stories over and over again. My happiness just wasn’t important, as fear of change kept me stuck.

 

Keeping that ending line also served another purpose. I wanted my song to be touching for other people – people who actually have stayed together despite laughter and tears and remained in love.

 

There is the line in my song “tears stole you away from me.” Tears actually saved my life, even though grief was horribly isolating for me. The suppression of tears and stoicism in grief never served me – though for my husband it was his method of coping.

 

For a long time, I told myself that my marriage might have survived if there hadn’t been so much grief going on. Once again, it was a story that allowed me to accept my fate. The truth was that I was lonely and filled my empty spaces by devoting myself to my parents and children.

 

Honesty is not always pleasant.

 

For certain, I refuse to ever allow laughter to end in my life again. The best part is that the laughter is mine and I can decide whether I want to share it!

This picture is from when my journey first began in 2010. I feel like I have found excitement again about where I am going.

This picture is from when my journey first began in 2010. I feel like I have found excitement again about where I am going.

Is too much honesty a fault?

 

For me, it isn’t. I healed when I opened my heart. All of my songs comprise the musical of my life. They are my subconscious speaking to me. When I listen to my own lyrics, I am uplifted.

 

Every single one of my songs say things to me that are separate from what the lyrics appear to be.

 

A few weeks ago, my voice teacher Kimberly said something very interesting. I told her that I was nervous about sharing my song “The Unknown.” The lyrics to that song are painful because they express how unhappy I was in my marriage.

 

Kimberly said, “Once you share a song, it doesn’t belong to you anymore. It belongs to the person listening. They will interpret the lyrics for themselves and to their own experience.”

 

I liked what she said. That is what I hope for. I want my songs to move other people and touch them in unique ways.

 

Since my recent Ayahuasca experience I am in a much better place. I feel completely liberated from being in the “mind rut” that I was in before. I see so many opportunities now and have let go of being so critical of my own singing. I plan to put more of my energy toward live performances again soon.

 

Singing is simply a vehicle to share what is in my heart. Improving my voice has been the metaphor for my life. I have more of a dynamic range now and a better understanding of keeping the tone “open.” But once again, the metaphor of trying to create a perfect tone slaps me in the face.

 

When I’ve been thinking of only creating a perfect tone, I cannot connect with my own lyrics. So last week, I didn’t concentrate on singing many vocal takes for a single song. Instead, I sang vocals for a few of my older songs. I spent two hours editing each song, instead of twenty hours. The arrangements for these songs were recorded at the beginning of my journey in 2010 and I feel like now I have a stronger voice for them.

 

I’ve decided to go with “less perfect,” or perfectly adequate as a better way of looking at my singing.

 

I may not be Streisand, but there’s no one else who can sing like Judy Unger. And I have my own music to sing, too. 

Thank you, God, for this beautiful healing gift that I was given.

I have removed most pictures of my husband from this blog. For this story, I will share this old video snap. It was a long time ago when I fell in love at the age of 20. Thirty-three years,

I have removed most pictures of my husband from this blog. For this story, I will share this old video snap. It was a long time ago when I fell in love at the age of 20. Thirty-three years, to be exact.

© 2013 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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I DIDN’T JUST SURVIVE

Singing with Joy

Finding joy again in life instead of simply surviving inspired the lyric line I used for this post title. It comes from my song “Music From My Heart.”

 

This line is profound for me. For a long time, I considered my survival of horrendous grief to be miraculous and I often called it “my greatest achievement in life.” When I was suffering with the loss of my son sometimes it was a challenge just to breathe. Every moment was a nightmare and I hoped that I could get through it.

 

Finding joy is even more miraculous!

When I was grieving, the prospect of ever feeling any kind of joy again in life seemed impossible, remote and unbelievable.

 

I preferred this post title over a similar one, which was “I won’t drown in misery.” That lyric line comes from my newest song, “Somewhere I Can’t See.” Originally, I wrote the line as: “I won’t live in misery.” But drowning felt more descriptive because I cried so much after my son died that I wrote a poem named “my tears filled an ocean.”

 

Saving myself from “drowning in misery” is why I went out of my comfort zone to attend an Ayahuasca ceremony this past weekend. Because I tasted joy in 2010, I did not want to go back to my familiar coping method of simply surviving.

 

The shift to feeling joy instead of simply surviving is spectacular. When that happened for me in 2010, I decided I was blessed and it was a beautiful spiritual awakening for me.

What I wrote two years after Jason died.

What I wrote two years after Jason died.

Survival requires shutting down all feeling in order to function. Joy is all about feeling every emotion, including pain.

 

I realize that for the last few months I actually was drowning in my misery. The “spider of sadness” became my companion once again. But although I felt miserable, it was most definitely not at all like the anguish I suffered from when my son died.

 

The issues that I suffered from were more related to the death of my marriage.

 

For the last two years, I tried to numb my pain by overeating; gaining weight only intensified my anguish. It was a downward spiral that I pray is over for me now.

Supression

While writing my posts about the Ayahuasca experience, I looked on the Internet for more information about it.

I found the above paragraph particularly compelling for me.

 

When I wrote about my experience, I had thought that avoiding vomiting (holding back) was a sign of strength and tremendous control; it was something to celebrate. It might have served me well during deep grief, but it became a habit that didn’t serve me later on.

 

It is hard for me to confront the fact that holding back really represents weakness. It makes perfect sense, because I have been depressed whenever I’ve suppressed my true feelings.

 

In the outside world, feelings are pushed down because expressing grief makes other people uncomfortable. After a short duration of time, grieving is not “acceptable.” For the person grieving, it only intensifies their pain and agony. That is why I always suggest that people search for someone who is at the same place in his or her grief journey. Holding hands together can make coping with grief much easier.

 

Even though I never gave up hope, I couldn’t relate to people who were farther along. When I was reassured that it would get better by someone who had also lost a child, I didn’t believe it. That is why I understand that my message of joy and healing might not resonate with people who are living in hell.

In order to function, I became an expert at denying my true feelings. The last sentence of the paragraph I copied from the Internet is so true, because when my suppression stopped through writing and music in 2010 – it was then when I healed.

 

I believe I began suppressing my feelings in childhood. I was always told that I was such a “good girl.”

 

From the moment I got married, I learned to hold everything in. I looked the other way and told myself stories that countered my own intuition and kept all anger in check. My husband and I never had a fight. Anger was scary.

 

Being a writer has been especially healing because my heart is so open and honest, I do not hold back. I’m the same way with music and songwriting. When I sing, I’ll find myself crying or chuckling because I picture imagery that is vivid. As a result, my emotions swell right into my vocal cords.

 

I release so much when I sing. But throwing up is another story. That is something I don’t plan to work on. I’ll probably fight it for the rest of my life.

This picture is taken from my childhood. I loved reading as a child.

This picture is taken from my childhood. I loved reading as a child.

I share now some email exchanges that cast light on my belief about releasing feelings. Below is my correspondence on an Internet grief forum:

 

The crying started last night and I’ve been fighting it all day. Just getting dressed and talking to people can take a lot of effort some days. My job has me dealing with a lot of people. I’ve gotten standoffish, and just don’t smile anymore, to the point of looking stoic and unapproachable.

 

So my question is: “how do you fake it when you need to fake it”? How do you put aside your grief when you go to work? I can’t keep my grief-filled thoughts in check and function like I would like to. I’m feeling really stuck this time. I recently lost my brother and fighting tears is a full-time job for me. Any thoughts or advice would be appreciated.

Alice

 

Dear Alice,

The suppression of grief and tears is probably the worst thing going on for you. The energy that takes is unbelievable. It’s very important to release your tears and will help you to heal. You won’t always be suffering like this, it’s important for you to know that.

 

I highly suggest you find a chapter of Compassionate Friends. That organization really is wonderful and you will find other grieving siblings that will make this process easier. Not every chapter or meeting is the same, so give it a chance. Sometimes, it’s about just finding one person going through this that you can relate to.

 

You cannot put aside your grief anymore. Don’t fight it. Connect closely with someone else who understands your suffering and it will help you. I hope I’ve helped.

Judy

 

Thanks, Judy. I’m going to try and find this organization. Yes, it takes unbelievable energy. I’m actually moving this weekend about 400 miles away from where I am at now. It’s a bigger area and I hope to find something. Thanks!

Alice

 

You are more than welcome, Alice. You can write to me anytime.

 

Please let me know how your move goes. I have a feeling your life will be getting better soon. Once you get connected with other people who really understand, you won’t feel as alone with your grief.

 

I just want to add that another way of looking at tears is that they are “drops of love.”

 

They represent the aching and longing for the person that is gone. They are “drops of love” because it is a gift to your body to release them. Holding them in will have you “drowning in misery” and only increases your pain. It is actually a denial of love!

 

Not for the person who died – but for yourself. We must care about ourselves in grief. That is what our loved one wants us to do and there is no doubt about it. 

Judy

This awful picture represents a natural purge that did occur in my life; it was a purge of tears. I gave birth to my daughter 11 months after Jason died and sobbed uncontrollably for an hour afterwards.

This awful picture represents a natural purge that did occur in my life; it was a purge of tears. I gave birth to my daughter 11 months after Jason died and sobbed uncontrollably for an hour afterwards.

Below is an exchange that I had with my former high school boyfriend, Dr. Sam: 

On July 29, 2013, Dr. Sam wrote:

 

Great writing…very clear…I could feel what you must have been going through.

 

You know that I don’t think the Ayahuasca has spiritual properties…its a hallucinogen that made you and others who were present quite ill (anything you have to do in secret is generally not a good idea). I’m glad you didn’t do it again on Saturday night, and suspect you won’t be attending a ceremony any time soon.

 

Hallucinogens can have unusual effects, and can also break down defense mechanisms, which are there for a reason! Your defense mechanisms have allowed you to get through life, despite great tragedy, and raise three great kids. I can’t think of any good reason to break them down and “explore” them…you have already had a successful spiritual journey, without the need for herbal “teas.”

 

What you have done is recognize the great impact that depression has had on your life, and have sought a medicinal cure. And those are available…not through teas or incantations, but through available medications prescribed by a caring doctor who knows what they are doing. I think you would feel better overall on the right prescription…it might take a lot of trial and error, but I think you could get there with patience and a willingness to try. If we accept that depression can be chemical…as is high blood pressure or elevated cholesterol, there is no reason not to try and correct that.

 

You have lived, and can certainly continue to live…and be successful…without them, but I bet you would feel a whole lot better! Sam

 

Hi Sam,

 

I love what you wrote because it allowed me to crystallize my thoughts. First off, thank you so much for your caring message. I feel your concern for me in every word. 

 

I know ayahuasca is a drug, but it was a one shot deal. On the Internet, I didn’t see anything listed about overdoses or lasting side-effects (other than spiritual awakening). The intensity of the medicine and purge is well-documented.

 

Being ill and uncomfortable was exactly the reason why this “medicine/drug” probably was effective. It forced me to face my problems and release all of my toxic feelings that had me depressed. It was the ultimate “up and out” for me.

 

My eyes are still the same, but I’m not crying about it now.

 

I far prefer this to taking a drug on a regular basis to hold things in check. As painful as it was for me to face my fears during that ceremony, now I understand what it was all about and why I’m feeling so much better.

 

There is a possibility I might try it again someday. But for now, I feel like I am still processing and enjoying what I discovered from it. The euphoria I’m feeling is not the drug, but the result of getting in touch with many feelings I had suppressed. It was such a wonderful release.

 

I wish I hadn’t gotten to the point where I felt desperate. I really was suffering with my irritating eyesight and knew there was probably more to it.

 

But believe it or not, I wasn’t so desperate that I even remotely considered an antidepressant. I’m not against them for other people; they’re just not for me. I have tried medication during many challenging periods in my life (at least six times). The bottom line was that I felt numb and hated it. Plus, the side effect of weight gain compounded my problems.

 

I just found a wonderful analogy while thinking this through.

 

The ayahuasca ceremony was about going through a tunnel of pain to get to “the light.” The only way out of that tunnel was to face and confront all the reasons that kept me in my tunnel of pain. In order to escape I had to get rid of all the stories I told myself that kept me stuck. I might not have purged through vomiting, but I did purge those stories.

 

I believe that for me personally, medication would simply allow me to stay in the tunnel in a more comfortable way.

 

The tunnel I’ve been going through is one of coping with the difficult changes in my life – my divorce and uncomfortable eyesight. That is in addition to losing my father and mother. Change (even good change) is hard for most humans.

 

I’ve never liked putting anything foreign in my body. That hasn’t changed. But I do have a drug to help myself.

 

My drug is my music. I embrace it and celebrate the gift that I was given.

 

I am in the light now.

Guitar on the beach in 1981
I end my post with some raucous humor. It is extremely embarrassing and as usual, I know I should hold myself back. But I can’t!

Today was a busy day and I had three clients contact me for illustration estimates. It seems that not only am I feeling better, the world is just shining upon me.

In the past, sometimes a year went by without any illustration work.

I was in a big hurry when I received a request from a third art director for an estimate. I let the art director know I was busy and would contact him later to review his request. Then I shot an email to a good friend to share about my unbelievable day. I shared a portion of the art director’s request for full effect.

When I wrote that message I said:

“This is overwhelming. I just heard from a third art director today! And I found another sex shop to explore – had a fun afternoon! ALONE! Off to go get a haircut now.”

So there I was having a haircut, when I saw there was a message from the art director. His message was quite simple.

It was: “Hope you have a nice haircut.”

Open Mic

© 2013 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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