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Decisions, Decisions.

For several months now, I've known that something big is happening. Haven't been able to put my finger on exactly what it is, if it's career related, family related. It just feels big, and it's happening. It's also happening for so many of my friends. I keep asking around, "Do you feel like something big is happening?" And they answer "Yessssss!" How could something big be happening to so many of us simultaneously, in April/May of 2016? I think there was some planetary stuff, or maybe the election is making us all rethink everything. But really - I mean, it's not like the same exact big thing could be happening to all of us. How could that be? We're all holding onto the same string that's attached to a big balloon and floating together above the US? Whew, it's all kind of amazing, and kind of freaking me out. Aaaaand ... Too much thinking. Usually I expend energy trying to figure out what exactly the unknown is (in this ...

One potato, Two potato

Yesterday I was sifting through a bag of little red potatoes, picking out the ones that weren't soft. For some reason I just thought the soft ones weren't good any more. I honestly don't know where I learned that. In any case, I sifted, and at the end of my bad potato-be-gone escapade, I had about a dozen "good" ones and a big pile of "bads" that I threw in the trash. I stared at the trash, the little soft ones forming a potato layer of insulation for the garbage below it. And I had a blast of thought - about my grandfather, and him and his family being so poor and only having potatoes to eat. And then it popped into my head, a potato famine that impacted the Irish so horribly. I wondered if, like me, they all thought the soft potatoes weren't good to eat? I think their parameters and circumstances were completely and utterly different. I also can't assume that they didn't have their own experience of privilege (like mine of trash...

I got you under my skin.

I generally don't pay much attention to what others do. No, that's not what I mean. I don't pay attention to what others do in that way of attention turned into comparing what they do to what I do. My attention tends to be paid in being inspired by their work, or standing in support of their endeavors, whether it's listening, or offering to execute a task or two on their behalf. But paying attention and then lessening my confidence is something that's long in my past. Well, no. I'm lying. Sorry. That part of me that I just claimed to be long in my past I recently discovered has actually been laying long and low in the sleepy part of me, right here in the present. It woke me up last week and started making comparisons. I was dumbfounded! I thought for sure I was enlightened by now. I believe it's very good to pay attention to others, in the way of being inspired to aspire. That's totally legit. But being inspired to aspire doesn't ...

Snack Conversion

I wish all the snacks that keep making their way into my mouth would translate into a lyric. I'm so hungry all the time and I never get full, and that's what's going on right now with my songs - I'm only able to say things musically, but without words. I'm hungry for music, and when it's time for lyrics, I'm full. And my lyric output used to be so awesome, and fast. Now, I wish I could fast, but all I do is snack. I'd like to enter my snacks into some kind of Conversion machine: one jelly bean = one lyrical line about a past relationship one piece of buttered toast = a spiritual growth lyric for a bridge one handful of tortilla chips = a chorus that expresses the heart of the masses So through this machine, I eat but I also get words. I like that. I like it a lot. Or maybe, a simpler solution: I could just listen to my stomach. Clearly it's getting all the attention nowadays. It might have a wise word or two.

In my life, I've loved you more.

I can't stop myself from giving. It's a thing. Well, it's been a thing. It's gone a little too far, though. I've had some really good months of nothing planned, just me getting re-nested after many years of extensive travel. Cleaning, purging, relaxing. Reading, writing. Cooking, baking. And there's some wine, I'm not gonna lie. All part of creating a space to receive, to receive myself. The "going a little too far in the gift department" is what's prompted this quiet settling. Like so many of us, I've been doing-doing-doing for a long long time. Just doing what I've been doing, without much thought at all as to whether or not the doing is actually doing something for me. I'm often told what a difference I make for folks with my music and singing, and how it's clear that I'm doing exactly what I was put here to do. I know this is true, but it's not all of me and I know now that I've let it be all of me. ...

Quiet, please.

The noises are sometimes unbearable: bathroom fan from the downstairs neighbor a text coming into my phone the garbage truck in the morning Other noises are sometimes unbearable, too. These actually come from inside my own head: commentary on my body size chatter about my to-do list conversations about what I've done right or wrong It must be a good thing, for me to discover noises from within. Do I need to be medicated? But I can't be the only one. There are those of us who are HSP's ("Highly Sensitive Person") and I know I'm one of them. Yet, the aggravation has been heightened for me as of late. The other night I couldn't even walk into the living room until my husband turned off the newscaster who was yelling his news story. I have meditative music on repeat, all day, with the hopes that it'll calm me the heck down, and bring me to some place of peace, and of gratitude. Sighh ... Gratitude is something hard to find when you're...

When I think of home ...

I imagine it's not uncommon to envision living in different places. When I travel, it's become pretty common for me. I picture living in the city or town I'm visiting. I have my routine - checking rentals on Craigslist, seeing how many yoga studios there are, and of course, Are there Jews? A girl needs her tribe. I'm comfortable also blaming my friends for enabling me in the whole routine. In their defense they just want me to live where they live because they love me, & I get it. But it's tapping me out, this search for the ultimate home. "No place is perfect". Wise words from my wise mom. You can make a list of the pro's and con's of every last city in the USA and no one place will have everything you desire. And for me, the "everything I desire" can change and morph. I'm flexible and accommodating. I confuse myself even further. So I wonder what exactly it is I'm desiring - a city, a town, a farm, left or right coast....