myjourneysinsight

MUSIC SAVED ME-PART 2

Posted on December 11, 2012 by Judy

MUSIC SAVED ME

When I was young, my senses brought pleasure

Life was a garden, memories I treasure

But I lost my passion as years wore on

Too busy to notice my senses were gone

When I was young, I loved my eyesight

Colors and sounds filled me with delight

But over time color turned gray

And sound became noise all through my day

I was so sad and pain left a hole

‘Til noise turned to music and rescued my soul

Music inspired, while noise was empty

When noise turned to music

It saved me

When I was young, dreams I could touch

I tasted and savored; I loved life so much

I missed my senses when they slipped away

But the magic returned when music would play

I was so sad and pain left a hole

‘Til noise turned to music and rescued my soul

Music inspired, while noise was empty

When noise turned to music it saved me

When noise turned to music

It saved me

–

My butterfly illustrations were originally commissioned as notecards early in my art career.

If you listen to my song, it will become clear to anyone with a heartbeat why my music has saved me! Click the blue links to play audio:

—

Link to performance on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lJNgWdQ9TbY

When I performed my song at Kulak’s Woodshed’s Open Mic Night, before I began there was a technical problem that took twenty minutes to solve. Ironically, it involved a piercing noise; I had to cover my ears. Hence my song’s lyrics of: “When noise turned to music,” was apt!

It was unbelievable for me, how my name was chosen from a hat to be the first performer out of fifty people on this open mic night. This has happened so many times that it is statistically amazing.

During the time I was waiting to sing and start the show, I was interviewed. There is an excerpt transcript at the end of this post.

Clicking the blue links below plays audio:

–

JUDY’S 3 MINUTE OPEN MIC INTERVIEW 12/4/12

–

When I sing, I pour out my soul. My songs fill up my heart, and I can play approximately all forty of them by heart. There are many lyrics and chords and some of my songs even have two variations of chords to be played with a capo on different frets. Many of my songs have unusual fingerings that are quite complex, as I enjoy creating unique guitar chords.

A lot of memorization is required of me!

I cannot adequately describe how I feel about the sound of my guitar. I do know that certain chords bring tears to my eyes.

I was never confident of myself as a singer and still am not. Certainly, I have improved over the last two years. Before that, I hardly sang for thirty years.

My arranger, George helps me to create gorgeous arrangements for my songs. We also create instrumentals because they allow me to enjoy an alternate version of my song without having to address my vocal ability. I have created many instrumentals and plan to market them soon. At this time, they are on the music page of my blog to be freely listened to.

When I listen to my instrumentals, the music speaks to me without words.

Click the blue link below to read Part 1 of this song story:

–

#310 WHEN NOISE TURNED TO MUSIC

Overall, George is very shy, and I don’t write about him too often. He rarely goes on the Internet; and when he isn’t creating music, he reads philosophy books. He did not want me to share his picture or last name.

I really felt this way as a child.

George and I began working on my new song. Sometimes, I recorded guitar tracks at home and he added instrumentation to them. But for this particular song, I wanted his input.

We began first by outlining the verses and choruses. I usually provided him with chords and sang passages as we worked. For this song, I would record the guitar tracks later on. He tapped while I sang to pick out the tempo.

We started with our first instrument. George had at least seven keyboards. He would close his eyes and try to feel which one would have the magical sounds we were looking for on a particular day.

It was a painstaking process for us to choose a sound. Sometimes we would both listen to hundreds of instruments before finding “the one.” Many of the sounds were bizarre, yet we never knew when we’d find that perfect one for my song. I was open to his ideas, even though he knew that I wasn’t excited about some of the stranger ones. He would sigh and say, “I know you won’t like this one, but I think it’s great.” I would listen and trust his intuition.

But often I wasn’t really as open as I could be. I hardly ever wanted drums or percussion. My favorite sounds were flutes. There were zillions of strings and George was very particular about those. He loved adding a bass. Initially I wasn’t excited about it, but began to appreciate what it added to my song.

When George discovered a beautiful melody for a solo area, sometimes I would hum along with him to develop it further. He hardly ever wrote anything down and he would experiment. He called it “jamming” and many times he’d lament that he should have recorded a beautiful interlude when he was just goofing around.

Often, his amazing counterpoints were just that – accidental. Still, it was mind-boggling for me how he knew exactly how the arrangement would sound when he added five more instruments.

Sometimes, I marveled how music was like a painting. When I used to create watercolor paintings, each layer of color would subtly alter the layer below it. As George began weaving different sounds together, my song would to come to life. The entire process was so beautiful that I wept tears he couldn’t see.

–

“Music Inspires”

My lyrics are my subconscious speaking. Sometimes it starts with a story. This song began with my parable “When Noise Turned to Music.”

The reality that allowed me to find my lyrics came from deep unhappiness in my personal life. Every night, the TV was always on in my bedroom and it drove me crazy; I could not think. I doubt if I will ever watch one again. The yapping dog did not allow me to speak. My husband was kinder to him than to me.

I chose not to use all of the comparisons that I had in my story about noise versus music. My lyrics only described noise as empty. Suffice to say that noise was my metaphor for all the chaos that was manifested in my life for many years. Noise also represented confusion.

My confusion was about whether I had the courage to change my life, rather than accept a condition where I was suffering.

But I also had spiritual confusion.

–

And it was music that brought clarity back to my life and represented my spiritual awakening.

–

I am so grateful that I have music to give me joy. This has been a difficult time in my life and so much adjustment is required. My 31-year marriage is over and I am living on my own for the first time in my life (with two teenagers). My father died six months ago and my mother has severe dementia and that holds challenges.

There is no doubt that my music continues to save me. I remember how I’ve written those words many times over the past two years. Once again, my subconscious spoke to me. When I wrote the lyrics “music saved me,” they easily spilled forth from my lips to become the last line. It was because music was so mesmerizing and comforting, that I knew my life would never be drab or empty again.

The concept of “being saved” did sound a little desperate. It made me think of circumstances such as being saved from drowning or a fire – of saving one’s life.

I mulled over some alternate lyric choices for my song, such as: my music freed me or my music changed me.

I had to go with my music saving me – especially now.

–

INTERVIEW AT KULAK’S WOODSHED’S OPEN MIC ON 12/4/12:

(My words are in purple)

Hi Judy, my name’s Diana.

Hi, Diana!

How are you?

I’m great!

Good. Do you guys mind if we just talk for a minute and ask some questions – songwriter-to-songwriter stuff? Somebody’s going to pull the plug any minute and say let’s get started.

No problem – I’m honored.

Until that happens, where are you from?

I live in this area. I actually grew up in North Hollywood and just moved back to North Hollywood because I’m going through a divorce after 31 years of marriage.

You know, that’s something to write about!

I do write – I’m a writer and a musician.

Excellent. How long have you been writing songs?

I wrote songs when I was a teenager until the age of twenty when I got married. Then I stopped for 30 years.

And now you’re back to it – Yay!

Actually, I’m going to let you in on a secret.

Okay, what’s your secret?

My songs erupt from me and I got divorced because of a song. I wrote a song that expressed my true feelings that I couldn’t tell my husband – it just came out of me. And then I wrote a song about what music has done to my life. I would say the reason I’m happy now is because of music.

What a great place to share that feeling. You say the songs erupt out of you. Do the words come out and then the music or . . .?

It all comes out at once in different ways – sometimes it’s the chords, sometimes it is the lyrics and sometimes it’s all together. I had a child that died twenty years ago and my music healed me. With music I smile because it makes me alive. I love my music.

That is so, so wonderful.

That’s my story.

How many of you guys feel like that? I share that with you.

Do you? Because I didn’t do it for 30 years . . .

Me, too!

Really? I love this! So, it’s kind of like being born again.

Like, “I’m back!”

And my songs are all babies. They were seeds and they were planted when I was young, and now I got to grow them.

Yeah, excellent! That is so, so sweet.

Thank you.

And what kind of genre would you say that you write in?

I’m a “healing musician.” My music heals me and I’m hoping it’s helpful to other people. I write to people about courage to change their life, ability to feel love even though they’ve lost someone and my book about my story will be coming out soon.

Oh, that’s wonderful. Come back and let us know – we’ll have a launch party for you!

Oh my god, thank you. I’d love that!

The word is out – it’s getting close . . .

It’s a good thing I’m not nervous anymore!

Judy, how is it that you got called first again? What do you do? Are you a magnet in there?

I think god is in the room with me – I feel so blessed and appreciative of my life. I never was a religious person, and when I think of music – it saved me. Some people think god saved them. To me, music and god could be the same thing.

You know, it’s all about how you interpret it. Is it a new song you’re playing tonight?

Brand new! The name of my song is “When Noise Turned to Music,” I think. Actually, it might be music saved me.

So basically, we will tell you what the title of your song is when you’re done.

Anybody vote – “Music Saved Me” or “Noise Turned to Music?”

Right off the bat I think, “Music Saved Me.”

You know what, that’s the last line of the song.

It sounds better.

That’s it, then!

–

© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2012. 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.

Posted in Healing and Hope | Tagged being saved, childhood friendship, clarity, composing, creativity, finding happiness, Friendship, god and music, guitar, inspiration, loss, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, Music, music saved me, musical inspiration, noise, original songs, performing, singing, songwriting, spiritual awakening, spiritual confusion, writing | 1 Comment

HOW CAN MY HEART EVER HEAL?

Posted on December 10, 2012 by Judy

On Dec 9, 2012, Brenda wrote:

–

Judy, does the pain ever really end? I don’t think so, but I find myself at a point so low right now that I am driving my family away. I spent the day trying to be the “great mom” I was before and it was so hard. It seems everyone else is unhappy when I am miserable, so I pretend to be ok. At this point, I’d rather have them happy than not have them at all.

–

I cried when I heard your song. As you said, we just have to hang on. It does help me to express my pain through music, poetry, prose, stories…any healing is better than none. It is just so wrong that a wonderful child was taken from a caring mother for no reason, when there are people who are left here making people suffer. Why are they left here and we and our kids pay the price? It just all seems so unjust and beyond comprehension to me.

–

Brenda

Butterfly Swallowtail

Brenda,

–

I do believe life is precious and no one knows how long he or she will live. My son’s life was short with only five years. When I am dead and gone, it would be a shame if I gave up my life because of grief for my child. We don’t even know what happens with death. Perhaps, your son is watching you from above and is absolutely fine.

–

The part of life that I have the hardest time accepting is suffering. Death is better than intense suffering.

–

Because no one knows, we just assume our child will outlive us and it goes against the laws of nature when a child dies. But many things happen, and there is no control. That is part of nature, too.

–

I know too well about pain. You have every reason to be angry. I wrote a poem called The Ache in My Heart It was written four years into my bereavement, at a time when I had little hope of ever feeling better. The last line of my poem was, “How can my heart ever heal – when it continues to bleed?”

–

I began to heal when I changed my thought process. I had to actually believe that healing was possible.

–

Do not assume your grief journey ends here. If you do, you will remain stuck. I wish you could find ways to be gentle with yourself and remind yourself that healing is possible.

–

I am so sorry for what you have gone and are going through. When I read your message about how you spent the day trying to be a good mom – I was thinking, “How about being good to yourself?” You said you were pretending to be happy in order not to upset your family; I have done that, too.

–

Even now, sometimes I pull out my hair trying to deal with two teenagers in this small apartment. Separation and divorce are another form of grief and I am hanging on until things get easier. I use the term “hanging on” quite often to describe how I coped with intense grief. It still helps me with my current situation.

–

With songwriting I cannot pretend. Singing allows me to share my true feelings. Music healed me of so much pain

“Thoughts equal feelings”

–

Brenda, what has really helped me is an excellent tenant from hypnotherapy. The statement is: “Thoughts equal feelings.”

–

What we tell ourselves definitely affects how we feel!

–

An example is that when you tell yourself that you don’t think the pain will ever end – that is just not helpful for you!

–

You reinforce that by looking for ways that the pain continues stabbing you.

–

Another way of looking at the pain is in reverse by thinking instead, “I wonder when my pain will end?”

–

Imagine how it might feel to have freedom from your pain. Suddenly, you might see yourself looking more for signs that you are healing.

–

They are there if you look for them!

–

This is such a simple concept and can directly improve how you feel. I use the power of positive thinking to cope continuously with life.

–

I will never forget my son, and I grieved for many years. But my suffering did not bring my son back to me!

–

For such a long time, I felt closer to my son with my sadness. I believed that if I allowed myself happiness he was farther away. Guilt is a terrible thing.

–

Stop worrying about your family and their happiness. I did that for decades and stayed in an empty marriage with a man who ignored me. When you take care of yourself, you will bring much more into the world and ultimately, to your loved ones.

–

Do not depend on others to fill your space. That leads you to disappointment and anger. Anger is an impediment to healing. That’s why I suggested love as an antidote. Find reasons to forgive and do it in your son’s memory with all the love in your heart. This will allow you to leave disappointment behind.

–

Do continue to cry and talk about your son. Keep writing. And stay close to other grieving people who understand. I am farther along in my journey and my purpose is to give you hope. You will find that when you hold hands and help other people grieving as you are, the pain will diminish. You will discover how much farther you can go toward healing.

–

Love, Judy

–

My coop’s walkway 50 years ago.

Not everything has been easy, but I’m still smiling.

Posted in Healing and Hope | Tagged "sandwich generation", butterflies, butterfly, child's death, compassionate friends, composing, death, death of a child, grief, grief bereavement "Loss of a Child", GRIEF RELATED, guitar, healing, healing from grief, hope, Hypnotherapy, inspiration, loss, lyric development, motherhood, Music, original songs, pain of grief, singing, songwriting | Leave a comment

ALL I HAVE LEFT AFTER THE DEATH OF MY CHILD

Posted on December 5, 2012 by Judy

After my father died this past May, I found many beautiful portraits of Jason that I had lost. I am grateful for those pictures.

I remember that there were times when my grief was so overwhelming that I gave up hope of ever feeling better. I thought I had given up hope, but instead hope waited for me in the wings.

–

I want to use a metaphor to describe my grief and healing. It is one of a roaring wildfire that destroyed everything in its path. After my child died, the fire that burned through my soul was a horror beyond anything imaginable. I wished I had been consumed, but instead the fire gleefully tortured me with severe burns. I awoke blistered and everything familiar was gone.

–

The fire left a blackened and ugly forest. The possibility of that devastated forest ever recovering its former beauty seemed impossible. But eventually, a tiny sapling broke through the ashes. A few plants sprouted because the heat from the fire allowed certain seed pods to germinate. I missed the forest that I remembered and barely noticed those changes.

–

I knew fires were a part of this world; that they randomly happened. But I was very angry. I never expected to personally witness the horror or experience the suffering.

–

But the fire that tortured me did not destroy everything – it did not destroy my love.

–

My life was as gray as ashes for almost two decades. I coped by simply going through the motions for many years. I was alive but not really living, but my love kept my spirit going.

–

The most amazing part of my story was when I reached a point of exhaustion and acceptance of my fate, something appeared in the ashes of my forest. One day, hope fluttered down from above.

–

It turned out that when I least expected it my ashen forest began to grow again. Like magic, colors and sounds reappeared. I looked around and noticed the forest was completely different from what I had remembered.

–

Because it had been so long since I’d heard beautiful sounds and seen gorgeous colors, I found my new surroundings breathtaking. It was not the same forest, but that didn’t matter. My appreciation was limitless because my drab life was over.

–

The hope that waited in the wings kissed me and took flight. I thanked her for waiting.

—

Jason drew this while in preschool. For me, I see an angel with a beautiful heart. Jason died from his congenital heart defect.

A painting of mine that was part of a memorial for Jason.

This story was inspired by a particularly heartbreaking poem that was written by another bereaved mother.

–

Brenda Lewis lost her 15-year-old son Andrew, when he tragically collapsed on a baseball field and died from an undiagnosed heart ailment.

–

She writes and shares her poetry and stories at a blog named https://beebeesworld.wordpress.com. Below is her poem and clicking on the title is a link to it on Brenda’s blog:

–

TILL NOTHING WAS LEFT

This poem is not for my precious son

Whose death  took everything from me

that I hung onto, believed in

It is for those who can’t see that I am still here

But I have been forced to live in a world

Where there  is not glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.

I’m so tired of it all, so tired of the lies

The further I fall, the higher you rise

It takes all I have, each moment I try

I give and I give, till I think I will die

I’m sorry that I was never enough

My heart is long dead; the road’s been so rough

All that I have, I have given to you.

And what have I left? No joy and no you

Just leave me here in my prison, my home

Cause when you are here, I still feel alone.

Not a thing I’ve endured, suffered, survived

Has helped you to notice, that I’m still alive

I still feel, I still hope, I still love, I still try

Somehow through the darkness, I still survive

Take just one heartbeat, one touch, one breath

And remember I will love you

till nothing is left

–

After reading Brenda’s poem, I wrote to her:–

–

Dear Brenda,

–

I have no idea how long it has been since your son died. Your words have taken my breath away. My eyes are filled with tears. You think you have nothing left and there is no light in your tunnel.

–

But you have so much inside that is pouring out of you. It is your love for your son. My son died many years ago. I died inside to be with him for such a long time, but now I’m alive because my suffering has given me clarity about life. My time here is unknown. Each moment is precious and grief stole many years from me.

–

I wish you could celebrate your beautiful son’s life by finding joy again. I never believed it would happen to me – but it did. I held out hope and waited. Don’t give up!

–

Brenda replied:

–

Dear Judy,

It has been 6 years since he died. I have my moments when I feel strong; I fake my way through dinners, activities, but I just lost so much when I lost him, my health, faith, and the closeness with my family. I became angry and when I didn’t get the kind of support I felt I needed and it just got worse and worse. My poem is a way to try to let go of some of that. I have moments of hope and moments of complete despair. Thanks for your encouragement. I had serious doubts about putting this blog on here. I almost feel like I shouldn’t have; I have gotten so many comments that make me feel like I have saddened others…beebee

Dear Beebee,

Six years is a long time and the horror is still there. Your soul has been amputated. Like an arm missing, you’ve adjusted and carry scars that no one can visibly see. And that adjustment will continue. Even with family support, no one bears your personal sorrow but you.

I believe that the whole point of writing is HONESTY. What else is there? You are expressing feelings that are true for you. No one else can feel what you are going through and it is your gift to find the words to express yourself. People who don’t like sadness can read something else.

Please don’t ever stop yourself because of concern about what others think of your writing. Believe it or not, the more you express your sorrow, the lighter you will feel. Keeping your sadness inside is a heavy cross to bear. Release your pain and share. You will find there are many other people who will appreciate your words. I did.

–

Your message mentions how you have been very angry with your family. Their lack of understanding and support has certainly added to your anguish. It sounded like your family’s love was not unconditional – that you’d have their support if you followed their religious beliefs. I am very sorry about that.

–

When someone commented with a suggestion that implied finding God and another person mentioned an excellent grief counselor, I’m not surprised that those comments triggered your anger. They don’t even have a clue how to ease your anguish.

–

Their intentions were good and they only wanted to help. I think that sometimes when a person finds something that helps him or her, they wish to bestow it upon someone else. I am that way with my music. It helps me and I love to share it.

–

I remember that I was very angry after my child died. For years and years, it was difficult for me to contain. I was livid because grief had wrecked my life and I was certain my torment would last until my last breath.

–

I had more children after my loss, and when someone implied that it was a “replacement” for my dead child it made me furious. I couldn’t handle anyone telling me that time would heal and I let them know it.

–

Healing is a word I use often for myself. It implies a wound. After my son died, my soul was amputated and my heart continued to bleed for years unseen. The scars left me tormented and numb for almost two decades. I did not believe I would ever feel joy again in my life.

–

Brenda, in your poem, you want your son to know how much you loved him and how that will continue until your last breath. But you are dying inside every single day because of your grief.

–

Your poem’s title is “Till Nothing Was Left.” But if you died tomorrow, here’s what was left:

–

ache and emptiness

anger and fury

isolation and loneliness

torment and torture

–

I experienced those things, but eventually they eased away. When joy returned to my life, I decided I had healed.

–

Love replaced my ache, emptiness and isolation. Love soothed my anger and fury about my fate. Love allowed me to accept other people’s good intentions to help me. Love lifted me up.

–

My love for my son is pure and far preferable to the wreckage I had before. My son loved me. I remind myself of his love every time I take a breath and he has never left me.

–

With my last breath, what will be left is love.

–

That is the legacy I want to have left after the loss of my child.

–

–—

After I wrote those words to Brenda, another bereaved mother sent me a message:

–

Judy, I like what you wrote, but I would like to know how to get from feeling angry to feeling love. I feel love all the time, but with my son gone – there is no place for all that love to go. I also want to feel his love for me, not just mine for him. I need him back. I don’t know how to transform all of this to something less raw and painful.

–

Thank you for your thoughtful comment. I’m sorry if I sounded simplistic. My perspective about grief has come after many years of suffering. Unfortunately, I don’t believe there are shortcuts when working through grief.

–

I could not transform myself when my soul was being amputated! My life-blood was pouring from me and nothing could stop it. There aren’t enough ways that I could describe what you clearly are suffering through – the absolute horror of having to accept that you will never again see your precious son that you had hopes and dreams for.

–

After my son died, I curled up into a ball. Eventually, I crawled slowly. As you know only too well, the journey is horrible as the shock becomes reality. What gave me a reason to keep going, were the other people I loved in my life.

–

I was angry for many years and I wasn’t able to put a “bandage of love” over it. I was furious at God. I was disgusted by people who made thoughtless remarks. I believe that the angry stage of grief is particularly devastating. People who cannot let go of their anger are lonely and isolated. I did not want bitterness to be my legacy.

–

Eventually, I let go of anger and what was left was quiet sorrow and numbness.

–

I didn’t really look forward to anything and felt like the best part of my life was over. I felt doomed to live that way for the rest of my life.

–

I cannot know where your grief journey will lead or how long it will take you. Right now, there are destinations that you might never imagine reaching. The irony was that I thought my road ended with my scars, but I was wrong.

–

I found out that I could be happy again! And when I reached that place, I really did discover that my child had never left me. Throughout my journey, he was holding my hand. I do believe I’ll see him when I die. It gives me comfort when I face my own death someday.

–

I just know my child is celebrating that I am happy again. Now I understand, that with every tear I cried, he cried too.

––

–

Posted in Grief Educational, Healing and Hope | Tagged acknowledging grief, adjusting from grief, child loss, child's death, compassionate friends, death, death of a child, discouraged about healing, Empathy and Grief, finding happiness after losing a child, grief, grief advice, grief bereavement "Loss of a Child", GRIEF RELATED, happiness after death of a child, healing and grief, healing from grief, hope, hope of healing, inspiration, is happiness possible after losing a child, loss, loss of a child, Music grief bereavement, optimism after loss, overcoming grief, religion and grief, staying positive, surviving grief | 14 Comments

MY DREAM – PART 1

Posted on December 4, 2012 by Judy

I painted this watercolor when I was twenty.

MY DREAM

Like the sky after sunset my dream still glows

A river of warmth, through my body it flows

Filling my soul, it makes me whole

Helping me cope, my dream gives me hope

Like shade in the summer, a misty spring rain

My dream is so soothing; it heals all my pain

Making me sure, then I’m secure

I may be low, but I’ll never let go

My dream it feels so certain; I wait behind a curtain

One day I’ll face the world’s embrace

And the message I’ll bring with joy when I sing

My dream is where I’m going; it’s all about my knowing

With courage I grew and I know it’s true

My dream will get me through

Like a rosebud’s petals, my dream will bloom

Surrounding my heart with its sweet perfume

I may be stressed, but my dream has me blessed

One day I see I’m soaring free

My dream it feels so certain; I wait behind a curtain

One day I will face the world’s embrace

The message I’ll bring with joy when I sing

My dream is where I’m going; it’s all about my knowing

With courage I grew and I know it’s true

My dream will get me through

Click the blue links below to play my song:

—

My Dream Home Recording 4-8-18

–

The links below are recordings of my voice lessons discussing this song with Peaches Chrenko.

–

PEACHES LESSON 8/27/12 – about My Dream

PEACHES LESSON A – 9/4/12 about My Dream

PEACHES LESSON B – 9/4/12 about My Dream

–

Some of my lyrics written while my song was “in progress.”

I do believe dreams fuel the soul. Mine has certainly kept me going in a very positive way.

I have many dreams. One of them is to be able to sing vocals at home. Today, I am setting up my recording area at home. My childhood friend, Steve, is coming over to help me.

I purchased a “one-eared” headphone. I always record vocals listening to an arrangement on only one ear. I need to hear my own voice with my other ear. When my headphone arrived, it needed an adaptor. I emailed Steve to ask him which one I needed, and he showed me choices that he would bring with him. His photo was so sweet, but I told him he could smile more.

–

Which adaptor? Steve has whatever I need!

Steve and I reconnected when I began playing my guitar again. He was “the little boy I used to play with” when I was a child. Steve moved out from the coop with his family when he was 8 years old.

I think it is amazing how forty years later circumstances brought us back in touch. His support for my music has made a tremendous difference and enabled me to go much farther than I ever imagined.

–

I don’t remember these other neighborhood kids in the picture. Now my parking space is right behind my mother.

This picture is from when I saw Steve last in February of last year. We correspond daily about music.

This picture is from when I saw Steve in February of 2011.

Because of Steve, I have had access to the computer program ProTools. There has been a lot for me to learn and he keeps encouraging me to learn more. It would take many pages to list all the things he has done for me.

Now that I am living in the same place where Steve and I used to play as children, it will be very interesting having him over; his visit will have additional meaning. I look forward to a very nostalgic time together. I’ll remind him about all the great hiding places where we used to play hide-and-seek.

I have many fond memories of my tomboy days.

–

Not a great photo (double exposure), but we were having fun!

LINKS TO MORE ABOUT COMPOSING THIS SONG:

#295 I WAIT BEHIND A CURTAIN

#297 I MAY BE LOW

It was the weekend before the 4^th of July when I finally found the courage to tell my husband that our marriage was over. He was shocked, as I knew he would be. I found it interesting that he did not see it coming, considering how distant we were from each other. When I mentioned that, he admitted that he accepted the situation because, and these were his words: “Change is hard.”

That is so true. The human condition is one that resists change. But I believe that there is a high price to pay for maintaining misery.

I struggled with severe anxiety over telling him the truth. For such a long time, I had stopped sharing all of my feelings with him. He was never happy and I dreaded seeing him when he came home from work every day. It was clear to him that I neglected many of the things I used to take care of. What had brought me happiness was viewed with irritation and annoyance. I would often curse when he left the room in order to feel better.

Once I released my “secret,” I had a hard time navigating the sadness of my children. (At the time, my youngest son was 15, my daughter 18, and my oldest son was 21.) I was grateful that their despair gradually moved into acceptance of the situation. Although they weren’t happy about it, they knew there was no going back.

During that interim period, I entered what I would describe as “a tunnel,” and things were awkward. My tunnel was longer than I expected, because at the same time as I began the divorce process, I discovered that I needed cataract surgery. As a result, it delayed my moving out for a few months.

For the first time in years, my husband and I were communicating. Every dinner conversation revolved around the uncertainty and all the overwhelming decisions that needed to be made. At night, I would lie awake and imagine my new life as I listened to his breathing. I wondered if he were asleep or thinking about the future as I was.

It was hard to see my husband’s grief. He had never dealt with our finances and he was panicked over it. Then, he began to focus his energy upon all of my recent purchases. Even though it wasn’t easy, I tried not to let his financial anxiety and scrutiny affect me. My own financial future was scary. I couldn’t support myself with spousal support, and I did not have any guaranteed art income or medical insurance once we were divorced.

My husband and children wanted to believe in my dream of succeeding with my book, but were skeptical. There was no payback for them and I heard over and over that there was little chance for me to succeed when many others had failed. I wanted financial success so much in order to make them happy.

Originally, I thought I would wait and see if financial success would change my life. But my inner voice told me there was another script that I needed to follow.

It was about being honest and having courage.

I could not wait to change my life based upon financial security. There were many women who had gotten divorced with far less than I. It took bravery for me to do this, but I had two choices: To stay with something sad and familiar or to suffer through a temporary tunnel to emerge into a different life.

At the age of 52, I decided that I it was time for me to choose how I wanted to spend the remainder of my life. Lest I be criticized for not “fixing” my current relationship, I say that maintaining marriage through extreme turmoil for 31 years gave me enough perspective to decide whether it was worth saving. There was no “fixing” for me; marital therapy many years before really didn’t change many basic things.

There was no regret for me about not ending my marriage sooner, but I would have had regret if I waited any longer.

For such a long time I was numb and simply tolerant. But when clarity came to me, I realized that this was not a way to live, for me or for him. I had been with him in a zombie mode for too many years and wanted a better life for both of us, even if he didn’t see it that way. My husband’s sadness penetrated into me as I grieved the loss of my marriage and all our history together. He had known me for so much of my life. I cared about him, but I didn’t want to live with him any more.

Being in the tunnel was one of the more challenging time periods in my life. I struggled to be patient with my eyesight issues. I was depressed and prayed for a new song to help me cope. When my emotions reached a certain level, music often became my savior.

I cried with joy when I began to hear beautiful guitar chords. I did not know what to name my newest instrumental composition, so I picked a title that spoke to what was helping me the most. I named it “My Dream.” Two weeks later, I wrote the lyrics in a brief moment as I heard them all in my mind.

A page of lyrics from my “Unfinished Song Lyrics” folder. I wrote this when I was 17 years old and I have know idea who I was writing to!

My dream of stepping onto a stage to share my music with a large audience began when I wrote about it in my diary as a teenager. Now as an adult, I planned to devote myself to performing in order to promote my audio book. Eventually, the curtain would be pulled back and I looked forward to being embraced by many people as I shared my optimism, my healing music and my inspirational stories.

–

But I wrote my song while I was waiting behind a curtain. My eyesight wasn’t clear and I could start my new life. First, I had to face moving from the home I’d lived in with my husband for 18 years; I had never lived on my own.

My dream encompassed many, many things. It was so gratifying to write a song that expressed exactly how I felt. But I did not write everything into my song.

But the absolute truth was that my dream was about finding intimacy again someday without fear.

–