myjourneysinsight

DRIFTING DREAMS IN A COOL, WISPY SKY

Posted on November 17, 2011 by Judy

My first painting in over a year using a paintbrush. The herb is Turmeric.

“Investing In Myself”

From the time I began my “Journey of Insight,” my life changed. The benefits for me have been miraculous and everything that I’ve created fills me with amazement. It is difficult to describe the passion I feel for what I am doing. As I have throughout my life, I strive to do my best.

Pressure due to financial stress was looming on the horizon for me. I’ve had little income for over five years now. Thankfully, my husband accepted that refinancing our home was something that would alleviate my stress over our mounting debt.

I realize that I’ve never hesitated to invest in my children. I have a son and a daughter in college now. My youngest son attends a private school where he thrives.

I have decided that now is the time to invest in myself. I believe in what I am doing.

“The Art of Speaking”

I have written before about “the art of singing.” I became a better singer when I started to listen to my own voice. When I began to really hear myself as I sang, everything changed and my improvement was huge.

Even though I’ve known that I am a good speaker – I’ve never recorded an audio book before. This was completely new territory for me. I’m grateful that I decided to spend the money to record my book at a friend’s recording studio.

I began recording my book and assumed that a professional recording was enough to ensure that my material was of excellent quality. Certainly, my recordings sounded far superior to what I had practiced recording in my closet a month earlier.

My book is comprised of 32 stories. It was when I was recording the last ten stories that my voice changed. It really did. Suddenly, I could hear many nuances in it. I backed off when a word erupted from me that sounded like gravel. I didn’t want my voice to sound the way it did at 5:00 a.m.!

I noticed that the gravelly sound was sprinkled throughout my first recordings. I couldn’t believe that I wasn’t aware of it, but then again it was a learning experience. On my later recordings, I always repeated any sentence where the last word had that awful sound.

Just like the importance of vibe with singing, I knew that I needed to feel my words. I certainly did when I recorded Jason’s story. However, with 32 stories and a lot of words to read, I honestly did not put in the effort required on every story to “feel” all those words. I decided I could inject more emotion into my earlier recordings. The “catch” in my voice and tearful moments made a huge difference for the listener.

I anticipated that I would record my final story and celebrate that my book was close to completion. I have decided to spend the money and re-record 20 of my 32 stories. There are countless hours involved with editing as a result, but I have never looked at any part of my journey as time wasted. Every hour I have spent is filled with lessons and knowledge for me. My book is my passion and I am not racing to a finish line. Nor am I looking to make my creation so perfect that I will never finish.

I plan to finish and look forward to sharing my honest fairy tale about how my music healed me!

–

“My Musical Life”

I have missed performing at Border’s, but realize the considerable time I am putting into my audio book has put performing on the back burner anyway. Sometimes I wonder how I will feel when my book is done and I put my energy back in that direction. Certainly, I spend long hours alone and don’t feel like putting myself “out there” at open mic venues like I used to.

In February, I will be performing at a venue with several hundred people in the audience. I plan to have my book done by then and that makes this opportunity even more very exciting.

My friend, Larry, who owns the studio where I am recording, will be setting up this performance with another musician he works with; we will each play that evening. I’ll be able to play for perhaps 30 minutes, and look forward to sharing details about this when I know more.

Because music fuels me, recently, I decided to once again invest in my joy by working with my arranger, George, on some of my older songs.

George and I got together and improved several of our older arrangements. I must force myself to only work on songs that will be part of my book. I do look forward to writing and improving my other songs once my first book is completed.

Although my newest song “Hang On” still fills my heart, I am starting to hear new chords in my mind. I hardly have time to play with them.

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My parents enjoyed my company for lunch two weeks ago. It makes me sad because my parents cannot converse anymore due to my mother’s dementia.

“Beyond Surviving”

I like to write about finding meaning from my life. When I mention what I’ve learned from hypnotherapy, “thoughts equal feelings,” for example, I actively practice what I’ve shared.

Despite continuing challenges with my parents’ situation, I continue to feel joyful. There is little for me to write an update about, since their condition remains about the same. I do as much as I can to alleviate their suffering, while at the same time living my life in a way that they would want me to. I do not allow myself to feel guilty about not spending more time with them. I do know that when I see them, they adore and appreciate me and I am grateful to still have them.

I was in the elevator with both of them and snapped a picture. I felt very sad at that moment as I left both of them at their facility.

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Getting into an elevator with both my parents at their facility. It was challenging for all of us to fit in there. Miriam, my mother’s caregiver, was with me.

It is always a balance of making the time and staying positive, despite seeing their pain.

Sometimes it is the smallest of things that can give me stress. Two weeks ago, I accidently scratched my beloved guitar while playing a song for my mother. The scratch was noticeable, ugly and totally unnecessary.

I looked at that big scratch on the front with my eyes watering and then I got over it.

I laugh when I think about how much pain I felt looking at it. My guitar was almost new when I pulled it out of its case in the closet a year and a half ago. I decided it would be just another battle scar to remind me how beautiful it is that my guitar is getting played so much.

“Pulling Out My Paintbrush”

I receive a lot of Internet traffic on my art blog. On top of everything I’ve done this year, sometimes I am astounded that I wrote that blog in addition to “My Journey’s Insight.” http://foodartist.wordpress.com/

I am generous with my sharing, and I realize that many people download my images. I prefer not to look at that as stealing, and have decided that those images would have been hidden away in boxes in my closet. It gives me pleasure to think that other people enjoy what I have done.

However, as a result of that traffic, I have pulled more people into my journey and have also directed more attention to my languishing art career. That was not my motive when I wrote my blog, but now search engines guide many people to my site. Currently, I am at the top of the list when anyone types in “food illustrator.”

When I landed a large project this past week, it reinforced how staying positive and joyful can lead to unexpected dividends. I have not painted with a paintbrush for over a year and last night I was painting again.

It was not easy, as my eyes strained to see the tiny pieces of frisket I was peeling back with tweezers. But within a few hours, a painting emerged and I was relieved to know that I still had the ability to illustrate. It also reminded me that it was something I have not missed doing.

I was pleased for my bountiful financial rewards this week, but if I never painted again in my life – I would be fine with that.

I often receive emails as a result of my art blog, from people wanting to buy my illustrations. I was touched by this recent message. As I sign off to go back to completing my new art project and then to working on my audio book, I want to share part of that message below:

Dear Judy,

I love your generous spirit. I am sure it takes a great amount of time to create a work. I would be embarrassed to ask you to do a work for me for what I can afford. I’m just a little startup.

I would love to work with you and pay you what you more than deserve – what I am offering is a token and as I said I am even embarrassed to mention it. I have to shake my head in almost disbelief in our world economy. You’re grateful for any income and I am grateful for any help… we’re quite the pair. Better days are ahead. If you feel inclined to turn me down I understand – truly.

Sincerely, Rhonda

P.S. I had a cold this morning and a runny nose to begin with but now that I’ve read your blog a whole roll of toilet paper is almost gone from wiping tears and blowing my nose. You express yourself beautifully. That is quite the song you wrote! I admire you for doing that and I am sorry for your loss- it truly touched my heart. I have a three-year-old grandson that I absolutely adore and I can’t imagine what my life would be without him. I almost lost my own son to bone cancer; grateful to the Lord for his miraculous survival- today he is 32 and married. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that. Thank you for sharing.

–

© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2011. 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 "sandwich generation", acoustic guitar, Art and Illustration, artist, audio book, Caregiving, colored pencil, composing, creativity, dementia, Friendship, GRIEF RELATED, guitar, Hang On, humor daily life, illustrating, illustrator, inspiration, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, mother's illness, Music, original songs, painting, performing, singing, songwriting, turmeric, writing | Leave a comment

I ESCAPE IN MY MIND

Posted on November 3, 2011 by Judy

From the time I began my blog, I have found the process of writing to be very mysterious. I do miss writing simply for fun. I look forward to a time in my life when I can do that again. I envision it as part of my future.

I remember writing about my daily experiences in such a giddy and excited fashion; I couldn’t wait to share any funny observation I came across. I also woke up to write in the middle of the night, when I felt that what I had to write couldn’t wait until morning. I often hear a voice in my mind speaking words to me. With music and song lyrics, I find the process even more amazing.

Just for fun, I am sharing a few quaint paragraphs of old song lyrics I wrote when I was 19 years old.

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I have indulged my passions now for over a year. To see the culmination of all of my efforts getting closer, has become very exciting for me. I have been spending long hours at my computer and any diversion from working on my book can cause me anxiety.

I want to share that I am enjoying my fantastic journey despite the challenges I continue to face in my life. My mother’s slide into dementia has worsened and my father’s situation of living with painful urinary tract issues continues. The procedure he had two weeks ago to eliminate the need for a urinary catheter was not successful.

Both my parents enjoy my visits and I have become especially close with my father. After a lot of cajoling, he agreed to listen to some of my audio book and music. He could not figure out how to use a CD player. I decided to give him an old IPod I had with a defective screen (I dropped it into a glass of iced tea last year). I printed out a picture with instructions on how it worked, but didn’t expect that my father would be able to figure it out.

I crack up when I picture him listening to my audio book with headphones on while eating dinner at his nursing facility. He told me he didn’t want to stop listening when his food showed up!

My father was very emotional and cried when he told me how much he enjoyed listening to that IPod. But it was when he complimented me that I melted. He cannot imagine how much it meant to me.

He said, “You are an exceptional lyric writer.”

–

A picture of me with my father when I graduated high school.

After I spent countless hours working on vocal lines in Garage Band that I ended up discarding, I decided it was time for me to take a break. I needed to get outdoors. I contacted my friend, Carol, whom I have enjoyed hiking with on two other occasions over this past year. It turns out that it has been a little over one year since we reconnected after not seeing each other for over thirty years. Our wonderful outing yesterday was such a beautiful way to celebrate that one-year anniversary.

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Carol picked a lovely place for us to trek through in Monrovia. The weather couldn’t have been more perfect. We hiked almost 3.7 miles total (every miles counts!) to a waterfall and had a wonderful picnic afterwards. I took a few photos to capture the mood of our day.

I was surrounded by shimmering emerald leaves, exquisite spider webs that looked like parachutes and tree branches that cast delicate woven shadows. I especially enjoyed the feeling of crunching leaves that turned into powder under my feet as I walked.

In honor of my exhilaration of being outdoors, I am sharing an acoustic recording of a John Denver song that expresses many of my emotions. I also want to share some pictures of my passion for playing my guitar outdoors (though I left it home, yesterday).

Life continues to be beautiful for me.

Clicking on the blue link will play my recording

THIS OLD GUITAR – J. Denver – performed by Judy

In this photo, my friends (Cheryl and Linda) are sleeping while I serenade them. I am probably 20 years old.

Wow is this picture dated! I usually get headaches wearing headbands, so I’m surprised that I’m wearing one.

As I drove to my friend, Carol’s house for our hike – I called her from my car to let her know I was on my way. By mistake, I called my editor who is also named Carol. It was very funny, and makes sense after reading our humorous exchange from earlier in the week, which I am sharing below:

On Oct 29, 2011, Judy wrote:

Hi Carol,

Hope you’re well!

I have been so, so busy – getting closer to finishing the audio book. I have recorded most of the stories and have those almost ready! Recording with a professional setup has made the sound a lot better and consistent. I am also improving with speaking and telling my stories.

I want to share my newest song that truly will make a great ending for my book. I meant to fade the ending, but ended up leaving it “hanging.” It was one of those happy accidents!

Now I believe my conclusion is worthy of my book. It was a revelation for me that I could incorporate performing this song as part of my ending to balance out the way I wrote my introduction. I’ll look forward to your thoughts.

Judy

Hi Judy,

I’ll let you know what I think … but I’m sure it’s great. You’ve worked hard and you should be very proud of yourself. And don’t forget to take a break now and then. Otherwise you’ll grow to hate the project, no matter how wonderful it is. Don’t forget to live your life…

Carol

Hi Carol

I appreciate your thoughtful advice. I am planning to go on a hike next week as a break. I love what I’m doing and will never allow myself to reach a place of hating this project. Because it is my life, that would be sad indeed!

Judy

Hi Judy,

That sounds good. I just want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself. There come times when a project “takes you over” and you’re a slave to it, and that’s bad. A break is good. So is chocolate, looking at changing leaves in the park, just taking a walk or just sitting and being quiet with a glass of wine, of course. Have fun!

Carol

Hi Carol,

I’m looking forward to my hike next week – I need some fresh air and I agree with you! I can see that I won’t do as well over the long haul if I work too hard. It’s just difficult because family issues and things that are necessary for me to take care of often divert me. I do not have the luxury of working on my book full-time. But I am so fortunate I am able to do as much as I have!

Thanks for your sweet words, Carol.

Judy

Taking a break is a good idea. Dealing with family problems is NOT taking a break!

Carol

Tagged acoustic guitar, composing, creativity, Friendship, grief bereavement "Loss of a Child", GRIEF RELATED, guitar, hike, inspiration, loss, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, Ordinary Life, original songs, performing, singing, songwriting, writing | Leave a comment

HANG ON – PART 1

Posted on October 29, 2011 by Judy

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Clicking the blue links below will play my song:

Hang On Instrumental

Hang On Meditation Song

HANG ON

It feels so dark; the sky is gray

Nothing to live for, you cannot pray

You have no hope; is this the end?

Just take my hand; I’ll be your friend

I’ve been there, too – I must explain

Because I’ve suffered I feel your pain

You don’t know how you will survive

You even wonder why you’re alive

Hang on; love is never gone

Though it feels like night

Let love shine a light

One day, your pain will go away

Love will lift you up

Love will always stay

Your eyes show; your heart is broken

There’s so much pain; it’s unspoken

But without hope; it’s crushed your soul

There was no reason and no control

Just hang on; strength can be drawn

Though you are numb

Do not succumb

One day, your pain will go away

Love will lift you up

Love will always stay

I wish there was an end to pain

Then just love would remain

Hang on for a day will dawn

Different than before

But you’ll smile once more

On that day, your pain has gone away

Love lifted you up

Love will always stay

Hang on. . .

–

I want to share what it meant to hang on when I was deeply grieving:

Hanging on meant living in the moment and dealing with the pain. I cried to express my sadness, and tried not to hold in my tears. Sometimes I even screamed or yelled, but I continued to move forward. I maintained hope that I would adjust to my loss. I prayed my life would be easier in the future, and I often dreamt about it.

Hanging on was my willingness to search for anything that would help me feel better. That included reading books, going to support group meetings, and crying along with other people who were suffering with similar circumstances. This reminded me that I was not alone with my pain, and helping other people to hang on actually helped me even more.

Hanging on was an expression of vulnerability. When I pictured myself slipping at the end of my rope, I gripped on tighter and prayed for the strength to continue. Sharing vulnerability represented my willingness to allow others to offer support.

Hanging on taught me how strong I was. I just knew that I would survive the pain somehow. I plodded onward and did the best I could.

When I was grieving, I did all those things until the day arrived when I realized that it had become easier to hang on. The sun started shining again and life became bearable. My survival was something I was proud of and it gave me deep appreciation for life. The process of emerging into sunshine was something that could not be rushed. But the most beautiful thing of all was that when I gave myself permission to be joyful, I found happiness.

With my lyric line “one day, your pain will go away,” I realize I have no certainty about that. It is only a profound wish, but I believe having hope is definitely a start toward feeling better. Even though I used to believe my sorrow would never leave, I still want to share my experience and my music to offer any comfort that I can to others.

When I sing the line “I feel your pain,” I honestly do feel anguish over other people’s grief and circumstances. But I acknowledge that everyone’s pain is uniquely theirs to carry. Even though I also say, “I’ve been there, too,” it doesn’t matter. No one can truly imagine another person’s pain while in deep grief. When I was deeply grieving, it was so painful I often wondered why I was still alive. I find it unbelievable that I was able to continue illustrating. I truly did not see color in the world; everything was in black and white for years and years. And then one day, I saw color again.

–

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Message on an Internet Grief Forum:

It has only been five months since we lost my grandson. My wife and daughter were walking back to our truck and he broke away to run and get there first. He was run over and crushed. He was only 28 months old.

 I don’t think that there is a parent that has not had that happen, a child jerking away or just dropping down on the floor to get away.  My daughter is now not only in pain for the loss of her son, but blames herself for not holding his hand tighter or why didn’t she just carry him. I don’t know what to do or how to help her.  

My wife wakes me up two or three nights a week screaming for our grandson and trying to pull him back to safety. All I can do is hold her and cry with her. After I get her back to sleep, I am awake the rest of the night.  I miss my grandson and cry every day. If I am out and see a blond headed little boy his age I break down and cry. I thought the day he died was the worst in my life.

It is every day since he died that is the worst day. John

Dear John,

I remember your story from when you wrote a few months ago. It is extremely heartbreaking and made me cry.

I am so, so sorry for your suffering. It is truly hell on earth. You are right about every day hurting as bad as the day he died. No one can understand the pain – I lost my son, but I did not lose your beloved grandson. There was only one child on this earth like him.

Grandparents carry a double burden. You are suffering with your loss and in addition you have also lost your daughter to grief. She is never going to be the same and you cannot stand to see her suffer. And of course, there is so much suffering – so much guilt, so much pain. I feel for your wife, your grandson’s father and any siblings he might have had. It is a TRAGEDY.

I want to offer you some comfort. Honestly, only people who have or are going through this would be able to remotely relate to what you are going through. You barely exist – and life doesn’t feel like it’s worth living. I remember that feeling well.

I survived my son’s death and consider that a huge achievement. All I did was “hang in there.” Sometimes, that’s all you can do – and it’s barely possible. Keep hanging in there, John. One day, it will get easier – but right now it is so fresh. Grief is about love. When you love someone deeply it is next to impossible to accept losing him or her and the unfairness of your grandson’s death is not acceptable.

I have survived and I pray you will, too. Allow for your tears. It will get better – I promise.

Judy

–

It was a few months after I turned 50 when I experienced an amazing creative renaissance. What other people might term a “midlife crisis” I preferred to view as my “midlife turning point.” I had a prolific explosion of writing, while at the same time composing and recording more than thirty songs.

I named my opening up, “My Journey’s Insight,” and I gathered many friends and people from my past to join me. I shared intimately about my life in the past and present. Every step of the way, I shared my enthusiasm and passion. I wondered why I considered my experience a journey, because the truth was I had never really traveled anywhere in my sheltered life. But then I realized I had simply traveled in a different way: to remote destinations of feeling and emotion. I could accurately describe those places in a way that touched other people.

During bereavement, time was my enemy. Every moment was excruciating and endless while I was hurting. But now, time has become my friend. Every second is precious for me and life is a gift. My song lyrics state: “A day will dawn different than before, but you’ll smile once more.”

With bereavement that forever changed me came deep appreciation for all the goodness in my life. I will never forget the exquisite pain, but the heartache has eased. To be human is to experience loss. I will always carry the memory of my loss, because I have adjusted to the amputation of my soul.

I really want to offer optimism with my personal story of healing. I deeply want my story to be inspiring. After losing a child, for years after my loss I never was able to truly let go of grief because of many challenges I continued to face raising my children and dealing with my elderly parents. I am clearly an example of the “sandwich generation.”

Stress and worry always felt familiar, and I was simply numb from so much scar tissue. It became a habit for me to stuff my emotions. I didn’t expect that anything would ever change, even though I was always grateful for so much in my life.

My journey began when I decided to take a different path. When my new path appeared, I was ready to follow it. With my new path everything changed for me. I opened up my heart to the world, and I found my music. I never dreamed I would be happy again. Even though it took me many years, I am grateful I didn’t let another minute go by. I wish every human could find his or her own path.

It is never too late.

Posted in Grief Educational | Tagged acoustic guitar, arranging music, autumn leaves, beautiful music, child's death, comforting music, compassionate friends, composing, creativity, Dealing with pain, death, death of a child, expressing feelings, Friendship, grief, grief bereavement "Loss of a Child", GRIEF RELATED, guitar, Hang On, healing and grief, healing music, hope, hope for healing, hope of healing, inspiration, Judy Unger, loss, love is never gone, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, Music, music and healing, music arrangements, musical comfort, optimism, original songs, performing, singing, songwriting | Leave a comment

I’VE BEEN THERE, TOO

Posted on October 21, 2011 by Judy

Sometimes it is very strange to be with my tennis friends when we’re not wearing our tennis clothes.

There were many distractions for me this past week. Some were wonderful, as I had beautiful moments catching up with my friends because of my birthday. I played tennis on the actual day and a group of my friends treated me to a wonderful lunch afterwards. The day after that, I went to lunch with my parents and celebrated with them. I received a necklace and two cards from my mother’s caregiver, Miriam. I treasured Miriam’s cards: She wrote one to me and then gave me a card dictated by my mother. I was so touched by her gesture.

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Miriam’s birthday card to me.

My mother dictated these words to Miriam. My mother signed it with “Judy, Judy” on the bottom right.

Some distractions this week were quite painful. While I was recording a guitar track for my upcoming song, I received a call from my mother’s nursing facility telling me my mom had fallen out of her wheelchair while in the dining room. Her fall resulted from agitation and I was told she tried to bite the nurses and even Miriam who arrived after it had happened. It turned out my mom had lung congestion, fever, and a urinary tract infection. Later that day I visited her and she seemed comfortable; so I was relieved she hadn’t hurt herself when she fell, even though her confusion was extreme.

My father had his microwave/prostate procedure. He was relieved and weak when it was over. The results will not be known for at least two weeks when he returns to see his urologist.

Although I take breaks for tennis and exercise, open mic performances, social outings and seeing my parents, – I am always driven to get back to working on my book at every opportunity. I am recording my book at my friend, Larry’s, recording studio and am fortunate that he lives only five minutes from me.

For every story, I carefully prepare ahead of time; practice always helps. Once I come home with my finished recording on a disk, I must edit it as an audio file and that takes considerable time.

Speaking my audio stories is very much like singing. I must concentrate on my words and their meaning because if I begin to simply read them, then I sound like a reader. Instead, I try to feel my words. If they make me smile or cry; I allow it.

But then . . . there is always my guitar to distract me. It beckons me to play and to sing whenever I start to feel sad or overwhelmed. I keep my guitar in my upstairs bathroom. Sometimes it is very late at night when I finish my editing; I brush my teeth and a moment later I am playing my guitar and singing softly with my eyes half closed before I go to sleep.

My newest song has filled up the space in my heart completely. I made an appointment with George, who has arranged all of my songs. When I entered George’s guesthouse to work on my song, I was filled with passion and excitement. I wish I were a better singer, because it was challenging for me to stay on pitch due to the intense emotions of my song. As I sang, I thought of the many messages I read on a grief forum, which I am a part of. I really feel so much pain inside when I read those messages. The pain of grief is never forgotten.

I was shopping at Costco later in my day after recording my song with George. I listened to my newest song recording over and over. Tears filled my eyes, and spilled down my cheeks as I shopped. I wiped them off with my shirt as I stepped into the checkout line.

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I had been working long hours on my audio book and decided it was time for me to take a break. The dusk had already faded into night as I drove to an open mic night. I planned to perform my newest song and sang loudly in my car with complete abandon; I could not contain my joy.

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As I entered, I felt welcomed; several people warmly told me that they looked forward to hearing me play. After an hour, my name was announced and it was my turn to sing. I stood at the microphone and introduced my newest song with some unscripted and heartfelt words. I had brought an instrumental karaoke track with me and planned to play and sing along with it. With the first notes of my song, my heart began to melt and the outside corners of my eyes became wet with tears.

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I sang passionately and felt both music and love lifting me up. I was soaring and sailing and Jason was beside me, I was certain of that. The room danced along with me and as I sang the last words of “Hang on,” I wanted to hang onto the feeling; I was euphoric.

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My song ended with an unresolved chord and I allowed my voice to hold onto the very last note, I wished I could continue singing. With my eyes closed, I still heard my chorus echoing. Although I was in a small room with perhaps only twenty people, suddenly I was transported to a large stage.

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My vision was one of thousands of people, as far as my eyes could see; they were all clapping and singing the words “hang on” from my chorus in beautiful harmony.

–—