"2015 and then some..."

"Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year." – Ralph Waldo Emerson

I’m happy to see the year 2014 end. I’m not one to wish away time but the fact remains that out of the 365 days in each year, I would bet most of us spend most of those days wishing for a new year to come.   By December 31^st most of us have had it with being inundated with our obligations, our commitments and all that entails. We are all just too busy and tired from the race and how dangerous and sad that is. The question I have is why do we celebrate the onset of a new year when we could be celebrating each new day?  Have we become so accustomed to avoiding our own feelings that we don’t make time to embrace them? We celebrate willingly the new year ahead but I’m beginning to understand that each new day that I am given, is far more significant.

Life is difficult.  Life is challenging and often painful.  We want to walk away when things get too over-whelming.  We can turn our backs on the ones we love when we’re angry.  On this “new day,” why not run towards those we love rather than avoid what needs to be said or done?  On this “new day,” why not love more, and strive for understanding rather than being right? 

With every new day, find truth, speak truth and don’t be afraid to show your good intentions and demand the same from those in your personal sphere.  Each day we are given, we have the opportunity to either lift someone’s spirit or crush it.  Each day we are given, we can extend ourselves to those we love and put our energies into our well-being and theirs; or we can build more walls or barriers and never have the closeness or the love we deserve.  The choice becomes ours and ours alone.

As 2015 comes, turn the corner on your routines.  Calculate each and every minute and use them with as much meaning as possible. Embrace change and the challenges that come with those changes.  Sometimes tears may be involved and that’s quite all right. Cleanse the pain and the frustration and look at how you spend your day, each day.  It’s not the years, it’s the days that we lose track of so easily.  Listen more to what your body and your mind are telling you.  They never lie.  

Let 2015 be a year of self-reflection, and self-actualization.  Let it be a year of living your truth and being truthful to others.  Slow down long enough to appreciate the defeats as well as the successes.  Realize that what you say and what you do, or even what you don’t do, will impact someone in your path.

 “Happy New DAY everyone!” This is all we are guaranteed.  If I could, I would figure out how to get the crystal ball in Times Square to gently descend each morning as we wake, reminding us that we have one day.  Let’s not forget how fortunate we are to experience it...”No matter what.”

"Yes Amma Lee, there is a Santa Claus"

Dear Amma Lee:

Life hands us many things that we don’t understand.  It's easy for us to lose our faith and our hope.   When I was your age, the one belief, above any other, that made sense, was my belief in Santa Claus.  No matter what anyone tells you, there certainly is a Santa Claus.   Some people lose sight of him because they are angry at what they have lost.  Some lose their faith probably because they forgot they had the magic to believe.  Bad things happen whether we are five or fifty but the one truth we can hold on to is Christmas and Santa Claus live in each of us and it’s up to us whether we believe the magic and make our world better than where we found it.  Some will tell you that there is no magic and that there is no Santa Claus.  They are wrong.

I know they are wrong when I hear laughter...any laughter. Laughter is indeed magic.  Your mom believes in the magic of Christmas each time she hears you giggle or when you share a secret that only she can know as she snuggles you to bed each night.  I know Santa exists, when someone smiles at me.  Of course, Santa Claus really likes it when you smile back.  By the way, should you find yourself in a situation where no one is smiling or laughing, hug them.  Santa really likes that too.   

I know Santa exists each time I sit down with my family and we share our tales and our woes and somehow, by the magic in each of us, we are grateful for being together.  I feel him each and every time I hear music and singing.  Music is his most gracious gift to us.  Dancing is the other gift.  To dance means true joy.  Santa knows this to be true and so dear Amma Lee, sing, and dance and surround yourself with those who will join you.  You will never be alone.

The difficulties of being human seem so large.  There are those who will want to tell you that there is no such thing as Santa but how can that be when you dear girl, exist? He sees your love, your kindness and when you are sad, he sees how incredibly strong you are and will be as each Christmas comes and goes.  Santa Claus exists every time we see the sun, the rain, the snow.  With every season, with every change in our lives, we can hold on to our faith that is Christmas.  For those who don’t or who tell you otherwise, understand that they simply need to believe again.  Let them know, that they can always find their magic again if they allow themselves to love.

So  dear Amma Lee, any time someone tells you not to believe, look up in the sky and notice each twinkling star, and gaze at the wonder of the heavens for it’s there that all those who believed before us share their love and their light each Christmas.  Santa knows how much you are loved and how smart you are. He exists Amma Lee, in the light of your eyes and the love in your heart.  

"The Power of "Why"

                “He who has a why to live can bear almost any how.”  Friedrich Nietzsche

When I was a kid, my most favorite word was, “Why?”  I wanted to know why the grass was green.  Why was the sky blue?  Why did I have a bed time curfew and my friends didn’t?  Why did I have everything on my plate?  Why are scrambled eggs gross?  Why is broccoli gross? The word “Why” is the single most important word we learn.  My real question is, “Why do we squelch the wisdom of “Why?”

                Mom’s favorite response to me whenever I asked a question was, “Because, honey.  That’s just the way it is.”  We can’t possibly have the answers to everything that crosses our inquisitive path but lately it seems as though the art of asking “Why” has been lost.  We say want our children to become critical thinkers but I am witness to complacency and apathy and I ask, “Why?” Truthfully, they very rarely ask “Why” and I so long for them to take that step.   Let me just say for the record that if I had asked “Why” with more regularity I would surely be in a different position than I am today.  Not that I’m whining but I do want to know “why” many of us are so complacent.  Have we forgotten the power of “why?”

The questions we raise become as important as we search for the answers.  Just when we think we have found reasons why this is so or that are so, we relegate to a new understanding and more questions begin to surface.  This is our personal journey or quest.  Here are my questions, raised only recently with the holidays approaching and the news being what it is...My “Whys?”

·         Why is politics so nasty?  Why has the number of people qualified to vote decreasing each political year?  Hmmm....are the two questions somewhat related to each other?  Hmmm...Why do we vote the same people into office year after year and have absolutely nothing to show for it?

·         Why aren’t we developing simpler ways to manage our health care needs?  My God, the amount of paperwork generated over a simple mammogram made my head spin this year. We could discuss my drug plan too but I need to take a crash course in algebra and trigonometry to be able to figure out deductibles and caps and well...EVERYTHING else!  Note to self:  Pay every bill with a debit card.  No one argues with a debit card. 

·         Why can’t I find two socks that match? 

·         Why can I eat pizza any time, any place? 

·         Why in this day and age is there racism of any kind? Someone please explain this to me because as I grew up in the 60’s and 70’s I watched so many be assassinated in the name of civil rights.

·         Why in this day and age is there hunger anywhere in the world?  Why have we disregarded eating the old-fashioned way?  By growing the things we eat and by doing what my mother did all of the time which was to bake and cook from scratch...

·         Why did I start to lose weight by not going on a “diet?”

·         Why am I spending a ton of money to cover my gray hair when clearly, I should be able to keep my hair color at least until I’m 80?  P.S.  My hair dresser tells me that I am “soooo not ready” to go gray and I’m inclined to believe her.  This is why I must tip her.  : -)

·         How come I can vacuum my house and see dust mites surface literally in 24 hours?

·         Why won’t my electric company make it easier to pay them? Everyone else has an automatic debit card/credit card payment option except my electric company.  They can’t wait for us to pay them.   However, when the power is out we’re expected to wait days and days for the power to come back on when there’s an outage.  They can wait...just like we do.

·         Why do we have a war waging on education?  Let’s be honest here.  By the time we reach 8^th grade we get tired of public education.   Let’s learn a trade then.  The rest of the world does this and they extend the school day to those who show academic prowess.    Education is not the enemy.  A lack of jobs and services is the enemy and public education can NOT solve every social blip on the national radar.

·         Why do we forget about gratitude?

·         Why do we prey on the weaknesses of others rather than make them see their strengths? 

As I get older, I have tons more questions, more so than when I was four years old.   I love the word “Why.”  I love it more as I age because I’m no longer afraid of the answers.  I want the challenge of finding those answers.  It feeds my soul and the more I ask “Why?” the more I feel vitalized.   This is why we have so much to be grateful for in our modern world.  Because so many asked “Why,” so many were willing to make sacrifices because they found and understood the answers.  

With a Conscience: "The growth of my politics"

"One of the penalties for refusing to participate in politics is that you end up being governed by your inferiors.” – Plato

I voted today.  I always vote.  Next to getting my driver’s license, it was the single most important opportunity given to me at the age of 18.  I learned however, that politics can very easily divide us.  I was 18. A group of very nice Republican pollsters showed up at our home for a local election, and told me I couldn't sign the petition they offered because I was decidedly “Democratic.” I heard my mother jokingly tell my father, “Eddie, we have a traitor in the family!”  I realized then, that belonging to a particular party was too limiting.  I didn't want to be pigeon-holed.  It has never been my style.  A political party was not going to define me or my decisions.  Voting would achieve that or so I believed.  But hey, it was the 70’s, and we were still relatively innocent and altruistic...well I was.  At the given moment, I had to pick a party so I did.  I didn't think for one second that it limited me.  I still don’t.  Voting shouldn't be a limiting activity.  That’s the beauty of a democracy.

My interest in politics came earlier than 18 however.  I was in 8th grade and was convinced by my friends to run for class president.  I ran.  Posters plastered around the school.  I developed a platform speech.  I spoke to my entire class.  Another classmate ran against me.  He was quieter, smarter and well, he had fewer posters and I could tell it was harder for him to speak to his classmates.  It was harder for him to make friends too as I found out.  I loved every minute.  Clearly, he didn’t.  But that didn’t make him any less able to be elected.  I spoke to everyone I could.  I did, yes, I did shake hands with as many kids as I could.  He did not. I won the election.  When the votes came in and saw this boy’s face, I realized the price to be paid for winning.  By the time we reached high school, this boy had committed suicide.  We were 18. We had the entire world at our feet. Our dreams, our goals, our adult lives were ahead of us. I was popular. He was smarter.  When someone loses, we never really know what they could bring to the table, do we? This is the reality of politics.  History in the making and the shaping of our destiny and personal well-being are determined with time.  This is all the more reason to vote.

Politics is a continual experiment in popularity. To become elected, a politician has to sell the public on their ideals, their goals, their beliefs.  If we can relate to what they are communicating to us, we vote them into office   History tells us that although we have fought for every single freedom we have, we pay a price for our decisions.  All the more reason vote intelligently.

Today, decades later, I don’t vote with popularity in mind.  I vote my conscience.  I learn as much as I can about the candidates and make a decision based on their decision-making, not on their rhetoric. I care about their mind and their ability to work for the common good.  It’s not a popularity contest for me.  Sometimes it’s a comedy of errors and I find that amusing but for the most part, we need “thinkers” in office like my classmate.  Candidates need to show common sense not dogma.  Candidates need to have acute listening skills and make decisions that will promote sanity not stupidity.  We not only need to embrace the winners, we need to embrace the losers too because they used their voice. They made us think and they challenged us at our core.

I voted today with the very best of intentions.  Let’s hope the winners act with the same idea in mind.  It’s not a popularity contest.  It’s history...ours.

"Decisions, Decisions."

“Using the power of decision gives you the capacity to get past any excuse to change any and every part of your life in an instant.” – Tony Robbins

“Should I or shouldn't I?”  As we toss and turn, scrunching our pillow throughout the night, we face difficult, life changing decisions and they petrify us.  Scarier still is when we know that we have to decide to change and have no clue as to how to make the move.  “What if we’re wrong?” 

I hate being wrong.  I do.  However, the older I get, the more I am learning to embrace my mistakes, perhaps even love the idea of making them.  I hate being afraid.  Decision-making is scary particularly when it affects not just ourselves but the people in our inner circle.  We don’t want to hurt anyone.  We don’t want to inconvenience anyone.  We don’t like the discomfort. We hate conflict. These are the natural stages, or precursors to making the really big, life-altering decisions of our lives.  It’s all very personal and all too “real.”  Change is incredibly difficult, and it’s supposed to be because this is how gratitude is born.

The only way we know we have to change or decide what’s appropriate, is when our desire for change is so strong that it stares at us in the mirror each and every day.  It follows us like our shadow.  (Keep in mind; you need the sun or a really bright light to make a shadow. The light is brightest as we move towards it)  It calls to us while we’re drying our hair, driving to work and then the true predictor, when we discuss it openly with our loved ones, and our trusted friends.  But if we are waiting for anyone’s approval, beware.  Decision-making is not based on anyone’s approval.  The decision is owned by us, alone.  It’s the one and only time where loneliness or lonesomeness is an important component.  It’s required because if we put too much weight on the approval of others, we will never act on what our gut intuition tells us to be true.  We need to decide and to commit to our decisions. Beyond marriage, parenthood, and career, the commitment to change or decide is what drives us to making us feel whole.  We are what we decide.

I have found that most of the really hard decisions I have made, have resulted from love, from passion.  If love was involved, the decision was clear.  That goes for loving ourselves too.  That’s the hard part though.  When we love ourselves less, the decisions we must make, don’t get made.  Time passes by but there is no personal progress. Decision-making is personal.

The best decisions we make can often come by making smaller ones.  We take small steps.  We change with a single step and get used to the idea that change is going to come because we must move forward.  Slowly, we start feeling better.  We can discuss or plan and like a waltz move gracefully into our new world.  We know what we want and with each small step, others will appreciate what we are doing and how we are doing it.  The universe opens.  We're no longer exhausted or emotionally frozen.  The alarm goes off, and we get dressed and we face our demons.  If we're lucky we may even learn to love them.

We've heard from those who have made an indelible mark on the world, that success means risk taking and the embrace of “no regrets.”  But there are always doubts and when those doubts surface, we must look at what we have and where we’ve come from to appreciate where we might be heading.  It’s not always important to know.  It’s important to love.  Fear becomes faith.  Gratitude overpowers regret and anger.  Or at least, it can, if we allow it.

When I was 18, I walked, no ran away from a passion of mine.  I let one disappointment shatter all of my passion, all of my dreams. It was devastating.  I was afraid of how much love I had.   It was easy to do too because I chose fear over tenacity.  I chose fear over passion and drive.  But here’s the “rub.”  Our passions are not realized nor developed until we’re ready to receive them and handle them.  We need advocacy and we need mentoring or support but no one needs to tell us what is right for our soul.  We know in our hearts what is right and no one needs to tell us otherwise.

"Diamonds in the Soles of Her Shoes..."

"Give a girl the right shoes, and she can conquer the world." - Marilyn Monroe

 I have a huge problem.  I am a "shoe-a-holic."  There I said it, and I am not ashamed. Attention men, attention.  Women love their shoes and you should be grateful for that because without our shoes and yes, our handbags, we might as well be shadows; void of color and texture and individuality.  We are..."our shoes." 

Why are shoes important to us?  I'll tell you why.  It's because shoes define who we are at any given moment.  The smart man will at first glance, take a look at the shoes his date is wearing and instantly know where he's heading that night.  Shoes tell us where we've been and where we're headed.  They can be impressive or used for show.  They can also show our honesty.

Shoes are a lot like relationships.  (Chew on that for a second, will you?)  New shoes are like new relationships.  We instantly fall in love at first sight.  We buy into them with all of the altruism and hope for their wear.  That is until we put them on for a trial run.
Some shoes, although beautiful, will give us blisters, bunions, and cause an insurmountable amount of pain.  The question then becomes, do we continue to wear them until they are broken in or do we cast them aside for the comfortable worn pair of moccasins? Do we return them, get our money back and go back to the shoe rack?  When a woman buys a pair of shoes, she buys them with the very best of intentions. When she commits to a relationship, guaranteed, like a favorite pair of shoes, she's made a major purchase or investment with her emotions.  Shoes define us.

When I moved in with my husband, I remember the look of disbelief at the boxes of shoes awaiting their transport to their new home.  They filled the entire back of his truck.  I thought his tears were tears of joy about starting our lives together but then I saw the closets I would be using and understood, his were tears of major concern.  Which would win?  Him or the shoes?  There had to be compromise.  He bought me two shoe racks.  I reluctantly gave up a few pairs because well, even shoes run their course.  Sad but true.

No one pair of shoes are alike.  They are as diverse as we are and they are personal.  Let's not forget that it is our feet that carry us and get us from one place to another.  Our feet carry our weight and our shoes keeps us moving in the right direction...hopefully.  If our feet are happy, so are we.  We are what we wear on our feet.  The story of Cinderella taught us that.  The glass slipper opened up new doors for the fairy tale heroine.  She realized shoes made the woman.  She had a fairy godmother.  We have the internet and DSW Shoe Outlet.

Whenever I buy a new pair of shoes, I look at the soles.  I look at their construction.  I think about whether they will be a good fit.  This has become my mantra for my relationships and my day to day trials and tribulations.  My shoes have taught me to problem solve.

Shoes make women happy.  So gentlemen, the next time you see a box delivered from Amazon.Com or see a shoe box from Macy's feel grateful.  Your woman has just increased her trust and made a personal choice to assert her politics, her individuality and her desire to be attractive. She renewed her identity for her sake and for yours.  If the shoe fits,  your world just got a whole lot more interesting.

"The Weight of My World"

         “It is easier to change a man's religion than to change his diet.” ― Margaret Mead

 I did a very courageous thing the other day.  I got on the scale.  "119 pounds?????" It    was 5:45 a.m. in the morning and I ran into the bedroom and jumped on my husband.  "King, I'm 119 pounds!!!!??? How the did that happen?  I haven't been 119 pounds since...since...I was 21!"  In between snores, my husband kissed me and rolled over saying, "That's terrific honey.  Just don't buy any more shoes.  There's no more room in the closet." Bless my husband.   Please....He's loved me from the time I could woof down an entire meatball, pepperoni, extra-large pizza to now, with my spinach salads, my cashews, apples and two liters of water.  It's been a journey.  So here's the truth.

It takes a health scare to make one realize that when something goes wrong with our body, there is a direct correlation to something that we're doing to ourselves.  We can live in denial.  We can cry.  We can stay up night after night worrying and very upset that we were chosen to have this crisis happen. All of this is incredibly valid but it's what we do after we're faced with a health crisis that matters more than the crisis itself.  Are we going to take control of our lives or let some one in the health care system who doesn't know us and spends ten minutes with us, dictate what we should do?  At a crucial time like that, we need to get educated. We need to ask a ton of valid questions and then...hard as it is...change.

It took me two years. I watched people, more courageous than I will ever be, tackle grave health issues with a fierce, "take no prisoners" behavior.  They were diligent about being physical.  There were diligent about their bodies.  They cared about themselves and they put their health above all else because they had to do it.  I realized if they could do it, so could I.  In fact, I realized that real change comes from the heart.  My heart.  My mind.  I literally was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders and if I wanted to live a long life, I had to shed the fear, the guilt and the worry of my weight.

When I was growing up, we ate well!  I mean, my mother baked and cooked and baked and cooked every single thing we ate.  Eating was a sign of good health.  If you weren't hungry there was something wrong.  There was the occasional "Devil Dog" or "Ring Ding" in the lunch bag but for the most of my youth, we ate in an extremely healthy fashion.  We had a garden every year. My mother baked the bread for our sandwiches.  When she bought a pasta maker, we had homemade  pasta.  She worked hard, so our bodies worked.  Who could not love that? 

But bad habits are bad habits.  They creep up on you like a bad virus. I lost my appreciation. I got caught up in other people's drama.  I lived the lives of others and not my own.  I lost myself.  That's how weight gain happens.  We lose ourselves because we feel we should. There are no "shoulds."  There are only "coulds."  Two years ago I realized I could. That doesn't mean it's easy but it's a relief.  

I've lost 16-17 pounds but I can tell you that the loss was my gain.  There are no more Snickers, Peanut M&Ms, wine. My body can't handle it.  However, there are no more severe dips in energy.  I eat apples. I don't count calories. I count my blessings and add as much color to our dinners as I possibly can. I thought I was missing so much now I realize I've gained so much more. The partial vision I lost in my right eye two years ago, has been replaced with a much clearer vision.  There is always hope. 

I've realized I'm a fighter.  I don't "diet."  The word "diet" is a horrible word.  Don't "diet." Live. Let no one tell you otherwise.  

"Love's labor, lost?"

“To keep your marriage brimming, with love in the loving cup, whenever you're wrong, admit it; whenever you're right, shut up.” - Ogden Nash

Someone very close to me, whom I love more than life itself, is getting married soon and as I think of him, I can’t help thinking about my own marriage.  Life changes on a dime and although marriage came later to me than most, change was eminent.

To this person I love and his love, I would say this.  You’re getting married and this means, you are agreeing to a contract based on kindness.  Kindness, always from now until death, will matter and keep your relationship whole.  When in doubt and when there’s anger, think kindness first before any other reaction and you will solve the conflict.

I’ve been incredibly angry.  I never knew anger until I got married.  But the gift was that my husband wasn’t afraid and didn’t love me any less. He let me be angry.  The lesson: anger is real.  It’s important and it needs to be expressed through healthy discussion. You have to feel safe to be angry.  Marriage should make you feel safe. Ironically, we feel the most “unsafe” just before we get married.  I can only imagine how you’re feeling right now. Marriage is not for the weak of heart. Chew on that...

Be a good roommate.  Clean up after yourself.  Don’t expect your spouse to be the maid.  There should be no servitude in a marriage.  Clean the toilets.  Replace the toilet paper.  Take the garbage out and pick up your laundry.  No job should be beneath you. 

Your physical health is the single most important part of your marriage.  Don’t ignore what your body is telling you.  Put your health first for the sake of your loved one.  No one knows what lies ahead but good health makes us better partners, lovers and friends. Walks, hikes, a swim at the beach are quick fixes to just about everything...that is why, it’s important to feel healthy enough to do them.  Remember that.

There are non-negotiable, deal breakers in a marriage.  But hear this...you will keep secrets and you will not tell your spouse everything.  Keep some things for yourself.  You are entering a partnership but that doesn’t mean you lose your individuality.  Yes, it’s true.  You have someone else to consider now.  The world does NOT revolve around you anymore.  But, you need to keep a sense of yourself and remember keep doing the things that you are passionate about and that make you happy.  Your spouse is marrying you for who you are, warts and all.  Keep your passions.  Your spouse, your love, will never ask you to give up what you love.

Love is grand.  Love is essential to the human soul.  Marriage is entirely different than what you ever thought it would be.  If you keep your courage, it will bring you more self-awareness and more growth as a human being than you ever thought possible.  Pass the wedding cake and start the music...it’s time to dance at your wedding.

"Teaching "Soft Core"

One looks back with appreciation to the brilliant teachers, but with gratitude to those who touched our human feelings. The curriculum is so much necessary raw material, but warmth is the vital element for the growing plant and for the soul of the child.”  – Carl Jung

It was not part of my plan to become a teacher.  I forget the movie, but I remember a quote that went, “Those who can...DO.  Those who can’t...TEACH.”   I thought as I heard that dialogue that I would never want to hear those words spoken to me.  Many years later, I became someone who “does.”  AND... I teach. In spite of politics, test scores and rhetoric, I teach.

I admit that I suffer from a lack of focus but there are two things I knew in my thirties and forties.  One, I loved the performing arts, especially music and acting.  Two, I loved young people.  I wasn't prepared for the pitfalls of teaching. I struggle and continue to struggle with my students who for so many reasons, can’t be reached. That saddened me. I turned inward.

Two years ago, I learned more about teaching by becoming a student again. I had always wanted to learn how to sing properly and learn the proper technique. Through friends, I met my teacher, who truly taught me what teaching is and should be.  He’s a vocal and piano teacher and after many musicals and other performances, it seemed appropriate that I take a well-deserved lesson or two.   Our one or two lessons has turned into twenty, thirty.  I wanted to show my voice teacher I could sing and sing well. I wanted him to think I was truly gifted.  When you are learning something, anything, you go through so many emotions.  I realized then, that I am no different from my students and it annoyed me that up until this time in my career, I was just discovering how important that is.  I had forgotten to bring passion, caught up in the pressures of the job. 

As I walked into his studio, the first thing that startled me was how calm and warm it was. I gazed throughout the red room with all its antiques and artwork. There was so much to observe. There he was, soft-spoken, quietly peaceful in his tone.  In the gentleness of ways, this man, has shown me that my lessons were all about mistakes and not at all about perfection.  I was his student and I wasn’t going to learn a thing by being afraid.  He started with music that built my confidence and that I was comfortable with for my range.  We always start with what I call “catching up.”  We talk.  He listens to the tone of my voice and decides while listening, what I can accomplish and what songs would be appropriate given what I have been through that day.  He knows this.  I do not.  The music he gives me each week is like opening a Christmas gift or a birthday gift.  He has guided me, and become the seer of my present and yes, my cheerleader.  But this is by far the end of the tale...

The last two years, as I have been studying voice, I have become a true student again, interested in improving and reaching beyond my own comfort zone.  He taught me not to be afraid to make mistakes.  It didn’t take long for me to understand that what he was giving me as a student, I had to give my students: patience, knowledge, expertise, more patience and inspiration.  When we work together, I can hit the notes poorly, or well.  I am free to make all of the mistakes I want as long as I’m taking his efforts seriously.  As I’ve been studying, I been walking into my classroom with the same realizations that my vocal teacher has about learning.  Make the student unafraid to create, make mistakes, and love the process. 

As I’ve become the student, I understand how my students must feel as they sit in front of me.  Anxious, sometimes scared, sometimes not in the mood to create, I am their catalyst. My voice teacher understands and deciphers my “climate” before we do anything.  This is an important thing for any teacher to examine.  Assess the climate of the students or the classroom, and then determine what they are ready for and what they aren’t.  My classroom has artwork and all kinds of diversions for my students to gaze at and yes, some are great conversation pieces.  When you’re learning, you need to talk and question.

I work to create an environment where creativity is their personal journey.  I just steer the ship.  There are compliments, laughter and joy when there is a job well done and there is drill and repetitiveness when there are struggles.  The environment makes it possible to explore potential not kill it.

My voice teacher is a child prodigy with the piano.  He practices what he teaches. He works at his craft.  I learned that the thing that separates a good teacher from an excellent teacher is that very fact.  In the two years I’ve been inspired to do the same and as I learn, my students have learned.  You can’t measure the joy of learning with politics or test scores.  But you can measure the willingness to learn by watching how eager a student is to improve because you’ve shown them it’s acceptable to fail.  And yes, there is a difference between failure as means to learn, and failure as a personal choice that all too often students make.  Why are we afraid to acknowledge that piece of learning game?  All I know is that excellent teachers know their students so well, that they can monitor instantaneously what they need and when they need it.  Great teachers feed our spirit and our soul.  Like a delicious meal, they make us want to savor every bite and come back for seconds.

"The other side"

“The reality is that you will grieve forever. You will not ‘get over’ the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again but you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same nor would you want to.” - Elisabeth Kubler Ross

This summer, I attended two wakes.  I have to be honest and explain that these two people were not people that I saw or talked to with any consistency.  In fact, I saw very little of them over the past couple of years.  What I was gently reminded of this week is that people don't have to be in your life on a regular basis for an impact to be made.  I am deeply grateful and astounded that both came into my life and with their separate examples saw the value in me and thus, partnerships were formed, allegiances were made and together we made a profound change to a small community but no less important.

My grandmother died at the age of 98.  My father died at the age of 74. My mother is 89 refusing to wear a life alert. That's what I'm used to in my family...longevity and stubbornness. Death in my world has been "reasonable." I'm sad to say for so many others, that has not been the case.  When someone dies, you can't help but wonder about the other side and whether we have any control over our existence at all.  I am more inclined to believe that we don't.  But I also know this...death is the progression of our lives.

Philosophers, clergy will say that death is divine and a release to heaven where we are met with an abundance of love and light.    Others will say that death is an extension of the organic, energy, or force that we possess and have with us and then it changes and becomes part of the centrifugal force of nature just in another form.  We suffer, when we lose someone we love but the fact is, the hard core fact is they, the person we love, can't suffer any more. I've asked myself many times why some suffer more than others but then Buddhists will say that suffering is universal and in knowing this, we are able to heal because when we know something is universal it's easier to cope.

If you watch the news, death on a large scale is horrific, senseless and unfathomable and there can be no justification.  It's interesting how history and death have taught us nothing and as each decade goes by, human beings die at the expense of the greed or evil of their own kind. The only solution in my mind is the continual education of our young to be tolerant, to be kind, to be mindful.

We should contemplate our own death.  Here's why:  Contemplating our own demise, gives us freedom.  We are free to take our lives in any direction we want without regret.  We learn that human beings, WE, are fragile.  So if there are regrets, or fears then we need to get to busy with the present.  That is extremely hard to do when our responsibilities take over or personal sensibilities.  This is when our health suffers.  This is when we suffer because we are fighting within ourselves for our own self worth.  A life without regrets may seem unrealistic or unnatural but as I'm finding out, it is healthier and creates a sense of peace.  Easier said than done, I know. Some are more successful at it than others but death can be our catalyst, at any age, to follow what makes us passionate.  

When I was young, I was terribly afraid of death.  Young people should be.  The fear keeps them from doing something terribly, fatally stupid ... or so we believe. We've all taken ridiculous chances in our youth and luckily, we lived to tell the tales. 

The more  people cross my path, I am grateful for their contribution and their kindness.  At any given moment in time, we can have an impact on another person's well-being. Death has become much more meaningful and life has become much more meaningful.  We understand what true love is.  We understand that even in our grief, we are capable of wonderful things.  Why? Those we lost would want it so.  Death gives us these gifts if we take the time to accept them.  We can change our focus at any time.  

Soooooooooooooo, here this...I want show tunes.  Lot's of singing of show tunes, loudly.  I want everyone eating pizza, and drinking beer. I want everyone wearing their best shoes or better yet, NEW shoes.  Oh and there had better be dancing, lots of dancing.  Disco music, say, Gloria Gaynor or Donna Summer and Michael Jackson; some Billy Joel too.  Take the ashes and release them somewhere near Broadway...theater row...hopefully in like another 50 to 100 years.  As summer wanes, and the air starts getting slightly chilled, my heart is full.  My heart is stronger, my world is much richer, because of all of the people who have crossed my path.  

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep."  - Robert Frost

Fear

"Always do what you are afraid to do." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

     I was about four years old.  My father took us all to the "Whortekill Rod and Gun Club" annual clam bake in Hopewell Junction.  We loved going each year.  In this particular year, there was a race for all of the kids.  I was a petite little ball of energy with no fear.  None.  We all lined up and waited for the "On your mark. Get set, GO."  I went.  Boy did I...I raced my little heart out and in doing so, watched every other kid run past me.  Everyone of them ran past me. I ran though.  I never stopped and by the time I reached the finish line, I decided that I would dance.  In fact, even though I was last, I danced.  I thought my father was going to just burst with laughter and I ran to him and he picked me up and hugged me.  It never occurred to me that I had lost a thing.

     As I get older, I am less fearful and more restrained about what scares me.  I guess age does bring with it some amount of  calmness.  The reality is that we all have fears.  The question is do those fears makes us stronger or simply "more fearful?"  Sometimes the very things we're fear are good for us.  They turn out to healthy and when all is said and done we wonder what took us so long "not to be afraid."  Change is scary.  It's always been scary.  We fear success and we feel failure.  So here's another question..."Why do we need to be afraid at all?"

     Are we afraid of what other people will think of us once we change?  Are we afraid that we lose something in the process of that inevitable change?  When people say that, "I am not afraid of anything."  Are they telling the truth or are they lying through their teeth to make themselves less vulnerable?   When I was a kid, I wasn't afraid of anything which terrified my parents.  They worked very hard to instill a healthy dose of fear whenever possible because well...they were fearful something would happen to me.  Some of us hide our fears very well and I wonder about those people because sometimes we need to revert back to that kid who was fearless to help us succeed.  Fear makes some people competitive.   Fear can make us want to try harder.    It make us stop from being happier too.  We will run away or not decide to make a move when we know we should because we fear failure.  

     I would be willing to bet that fear of failure is the one tried and true fear that we all would agree is the most powerful of all the fears we may experience.  The older I get, the less I fear which is ironic considering had I kept that child-like fearlessness, I could have done the following:

• Danced for the New York City Ballet
• Written the real sequel to Gone with the Wind
• Passed my driver's test...the FIRST time.
• Moved to New York City at 18.  
• Parachuted out of an airplane or perhaps flew the plane itself.
• Appeared in the latest production of Tennessee Williams' "Glass Menagerie" on Broadway.
• Never, EVER, run out of toilet paper!!!

    When I was four, I wanted to ride the horse over at the farm that bordered my house.  The horse was 30 years old and his name was "Major."  I decided to grab some clothes line and grabbed an apple and some carrots out of the fridge and ran over to Major who planned his daily visit in the afternoon.  He leaned his head over the fence and as he ate the carrots from my hand,  I lassoed him and proceeded to figure out how I was going to climb on his back.  I couldn't I was too small.  Even the fearless know they have their limitations as my mother ran outside frantically when she saw what I was doing from the kitchen window.  I would have to wait a little longer, I was told. Major could wait but could I?  Perhaps fear creeps up on us when we're not looking and if it does, maybe it's more important to know we're afraid rather than deny it.   My mom had been petrified at the prospect of my riding Major but for me well...I was up for the challenge.  Love makes us fearful because we don't want to lose what we love.

    I hope I remember to be fearless as each decade passes and as I am faced with decisions that I am particularly fearful in making.  That would be my wish for all of us.

"Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love."

Albert Einstein

I am not a narcissist.   It wasn't until recently that I realized how important it is to love myself first before I could love anyone else with complete abandon.  My body has been telling me in both little and not so little ways what it needs from me.  I realized this Valentine's Day, that it was time to love...well...love thyself. 

To quit smoking, to go to the doctor's on a regular basis, to eat properly, take supplements and herbs...Yep...that would be me...loving my little self.  Sometimes, you're just given a choice.  Sometimes we are blindsided and then we have to decide what's important for us...no one else can provide the answers we're looking for to heal.  We must heal ourselves.

We need to profess our love not only for our spouses, partners, families but for ourselves.  As each year goes by, thankfully, I understand more and more that if I don't put myself first, everything else suffers. My relationships suffer. My world suffers.  

I fell in love so many times in my life and it was so easy. It's a lot like eating pizza.  Even bad pizza is good pizza but we need to make a note of the bad pizza joints and make sure we never visit them again. Love is like pizza. You can't say you've every had a bad slice, until you've eaten so much, you fell like you're going to explode.

There were those who broke my heart.  There were those who respected me enough to know I was a loving, caring person...too loving and too giving for them at that particular time.  Love, as it would seem, is all about timing.  It's about courage too.  How brave are we going to be when we know we are in love? Are we really prepared for the better and the worse?  The bravest thing I've ever done was get married.

The 50's have shown me that I am not invincible, I also have come to realize that I am NOT invisible either.  The older we get, the more we see and the more we want to share everything with those we love.We see ourselves with more honesty, with more truth.  We have to care about ourselves.  We have to do what makes us feel fulfilled and happy.  We have to be passionate and live feeling passionate about something outside ourselves and yes, sometimes outside those we love.  The situations we face, the good and the bad and the ugly cannot escape us.  They are what they are and they are ours, no one else's.  This is the beauty and the challenge of being human.

We gravitate towards what might feel easier.  We don't want to hurt anyone with our decisions.  But this is not the true definition of love.  Love means living truthfully and honestly.  Love is feeling fearless and knowing that you have the support to go after what makes you feel "whole."  Love means change; not because you are forced to but because you want to...because it's in your best interest.

Over time, I've realized it's not anyone else's job to make me feel complete or happy. However, I do value being around people who are happy.  I've also realized the luxury of quiet, reflective moments...the more the better.  I don't have to be everything to everyone.  I just have be conscious of what's good for me.  Am I healthy?  Am I content?  If not, what has to happen to change that?  

Love is not guaranteed.  We must work on it, just as we must work on ourselves.  We must nurture ourselves and be patient for the growth. It needs respect, kindness and truth and sometimes manure or fertilizer. More importantly, we have to feed ourselves the good things.  We must do the hard work and realize, that we don't live in a bubble and the more we pay attention to our own self-love, that others will come along for the ride.  If they don't, then we move forward.  
I love the word "love."  But now,  the words "love" and "me" carry much more weight.  

"The long and the short....of it"

“Life's too short. I'm not!” - Kristen Chenoweth 

Ah yes, it's time and long overdue.  It's time a discussion be had regarding humor at the sake of someone's individuality.  What I'm discovering is that there is a lot more sensitivity out there then I ever realized which is funny because well, you can't be four, feet, seven inches tall and not have people joke about what has always been obvious....sometimes painfully so and sometimes not.  It goes with the territory of being a human.

I learned at a very early age that my height was going to make me stand out.  Just like any other biological trait we are born with and can't fix.  I learned early that my height would be the brunt of jokes, some out of love, some out of jealousy, some out of cruelty.  I learned early that the world could often be cruel but I also learned who loved me.  I have witnessed people being teased because of their height, hair, weight, religion and the color of their skin. Why do we do this?  The answer, because someone taught us we could.  We simply could. I know this doesn't sound like the ultimate answer but think about it.  We learn what we learn at an early age and imitate what we learn.

Most of the mistakes made by our most famous, historical figures were made because "they thought they could," and no one would stop them or say anything to them because they were empowered, at least until everything came crashing down around them and they realized that the rest of world saw them as they really were...foolish and insensitive.  Some learned from their mistakes. Some didn't.  Those that didn't, well, we don't read much about them these days do we?  Experience is always the best of teachers.  What I've learned is that when people feel the need to state the obvious it's usually because they have no better mind than to do so.  They are unoriginal.  Some are blatantly bullies and they will always have fun at the expense of others.  If we aren't careful we may even resort to the same type of behavior.  We learn nothing by hurting someone else.  We gain everything by letting them find out themselves that they have lost a great deal by their actions. 

Laughing at ourselves with self-deprecating humor is attractive.  It shows strength and most often shows confidence.  Laughing at ourselves takes the wind out of the sails of those who fail to see our talents, our character, our hearts.  Being petite made me vulnerable to a great deal of disheartening realizations but it didn't make me stupid.  Typically, when I was down on myself or wished I was born differently, I healed by giving and I healed by showing kindness. These fix the problem every time.  Now granted, I didn't learn this overnight and quick frankly, I'm done having to make excuses for other people's behavior but age and acceptance has shown me my way and usually humor is involved.  

We also learn with time and experience who our friends are and who means well.  We usually see this when a huge difficulty arises. We learn quickly then.  It's all right to have friendships that are at multi-levels of the food chain.  We know intuitively whether people mean well and when they don't.  Those that love us, never leave us.  They may not understand us all of the time but they don't leave.  When I got married, I grew up a lot.  Marriage is a wonderful mirror.  My husband may tease me about many things, get frustrated with me about many things but he has never made fun of me by stating the obvious.  That's why I married him.  He's much more creative than that and so am I.  

Have I provided the answers some have been looking for with these words?  Probably not but there's always the opportunity to look at the world through a different lens.  I won't change the world or history but I can appreciate the little changes when I see them.  In closing, a song came out in the late 60's - 70's called "Short People."  It was written by Randy Newman.  I believe it sums it all up nicely.  I was maybe 12 or 13 at the time.  Think about that...A teenager, driving to someone's house, maybe shopping, where ever, and hearing a song that is telling you that short people have no reason to live.

"Short people got no reason
Short people got no reason
Short people got no reason
To live

They got little hands
Little eyes
They walk around
Tellin' great big lies
They got little noses
And tiny little teeth
They wear platform shoes
On their nasty little feet

Well, I don't want no short people
Don't want no short people
Don't want no short people
`Round here

Short people are just the same
As you and I
(A fool such as I)
All men are brothers
Until the day they die
(It's a wonderful world)

Short people got nobody
Short people got nobody
Short people got nobody
To love

They got little baby legs
That stand so low
You got to pick em up
Just to say hello
They got little cars
That go beep, beep, beep
They got little voices
Goin' peep, peep, peep
They got grubby little fingers
And dirty little minds
They're gonna get you every time
Well, I don't want no short people
Don't want no short people
Don't want no short people
'Round here"