She Who Thinks & Sings

Mamadance!

2011-08-22T10:14:00.000-07:00

Someday I'm going to do a study to test a theory of mine: It's impossible to be in a bad mood while you're shaking your butt. I will examine the precise mechanism of this phenomena of brain, spine, sacrum, and endorphins, and my study will lead millions to toss their Zoloft and pump up the jams instead.

But I don't have time for any of that right now.

Instead, real quick, I need to tell all the Austin mamas who read my blog about a gathering called Mamadance! It takes place every other Wednesday evening, from 8-9 pm, at Empower Yoga, 1611 W. 5th St., 78703. There is a $12 charge. Leave your kids at home. Or somewhere. Don't bring your kids.

You need to come and dance with us. Why?

1. Because it's fun.

2. Because it's just for you.

3. Because something about moving, and not talking, and not fetching glasses of milk or juice for people, puts you in touch with yourself. You will find yourself moving through your "stuff" and emerging as a nicer and lighter human being.

4. Because at Mamadance, no one will tell you what to do. Do you want to waltz? Or polka? Fine. Want to do Sun Salutations for an hour? Okeydokey! Do you want to experiment with mixing Zumba with making rock 'n roll faces like Steve Tyler of Aerosmith? Great. Do you want to just lay on the floor without any small people climbing on you, and have the rare experience of finishing a thought? Good for you! Are you an arrhythmic, uncoordinated, or "bad" dancer? Have two (or more) left feet? Bring it on. No one will care, judge, or mess with you.

5. Because you don't get to experience this kind of freedom in your day-to-day life as a mother. Or even just as a person. I promise.

6. Once you get hooked, you can take a turn making the play list. It starts slow and builds. You might include "Sing! Sing! Sing!," followed by the theme from "Brian's Song." Or whatever. You never know.

Mamadance happens this Wednesday, 8/24. In September, it will be on the 7th and the 21st. Every other Wednesday. Please come. Bring a friend. Shake your thang. Thank me later.

Humanly Possible

2011-05-31T20:21:00.000-07:00

I am pleased to be able to share with you a recent life achievement. Through great conscious practice, over several years, I have let go of Perfectionism. Completely tossed her to the curb. I feel freer and happier than ever before.

OK, not every.single.second.of.every.day. I still have moments when Perfectionism beckons me, inviting herself back into my life and psyche. Generally, that happens when I haven't been getting enough rest. But truly, most of the time, I can report that I no longer give a hoot about Perfection, whoever she is, was, or will be.

When I was a younger mom, in particular, when I had one child, I had somewhat of a handle on things. I did a decent job, a good amount of the time. It wasn't until I had two that havoc ensued, when I got to really experience the agony and frustration of not being enough, not being able to do enough, not having enough arms, knowledge, patience, or energy. That was a tough awakening. I grieved so many instances of inadequacy, of well-laid plans going down the drain, of bizarre eruptions of chaos, disappointment, meltdowns, messes, sudden competitions over random objects and food products, and freakish, completely unforeseeable accidents (even though I scurried around trying to create safety). At first it was seriously disconcerting. After awhile, it became comical. And awhile after that, I decided to just let go and do the best I could--and really be okay with it.

I used to want to be so perfect for my kids. But now I see that we give our kids the most amazing gift when we choose to just be human. To accept our limits. To mess up. To say "Not today," or even just "No." To just make the dinner and let everyone groan and grouse. To just forge ahead anyway, knowing we'll get to listen to all the reasons why we didn't do it the right way. To just sigh and get to our destinations a few minutes late. Where I used to be aghast when things went wrong, now I just say, "Not ideal!" and move on. Now, I am thrilled and a bit surprised whenever things go smoothly.

Even if you can be perfect--in all the the myriad ways that modern parents and Attachment parents and Helicopter parents attempt to be--you can't be as real and as present. And you can't really prepare your kids for life. Everyone's kids are human, and there's a whole body of knowledge we deprive them of if we try to make ourselves and life be something else. Things like these:

What do you do when your expectations don't match reality?
How do you balance the expectations of others with your own experience?
When do you get to give yourself some slack?
Whose standards matter?
How can we periodically check in with ourselves, to ensure that our own values are guiding our standards for performance?

The one thing I do know about myself as a parent is that I don't want my kids to spend/waste time beating up on themselves. I want them to be resilient, to take a crack at things, to treasure their successes, to not be undone by their failures. Most of all, I want them to know what's important to them.

The funny thing? Since Perfection and I got our divorce, I believe I've begun to do my best work ever. I trust myself to give any given situation my best shot, and most of the time, that's good enough. I'm definitely enjoying myself more.

Love Austin Music? Support Austin Music People!

2011-03-31T13:03:00.000-07:00

Momo's Club proprietor Paul Oveisi is a high quality guy. Not only has he successfully run a music club on Austin's 6th Steet for 10 years--no small feat-- he also teaches, serves on Austin's Live Music Task Force, and is a guy who cares about and supports music and musicians.

So when I heard that Paul was involved in launching a new non-profit called Austin Music People, I wanted to know more.

The AMP website has a lot of good info about the organization's vision and mission. Basically, AMP wants to be the organization that represents the interests of the music industry with City leaders. Even though City officials drafted a 1991 resolution to proclaim Austin the "Live Music Capital of the World," there is neither a business plan nor a central organization to develop this vibrant sector of Austin's economy.

Issues come up all the time--from whether to charge for parking downtown to ordinances governing decibel levels of live shows--where having a central voice for stakeholders would make for better and more efficient decisions.

Paul Oveisi views our live music scene as Austin's professional sports franchise. The number of dollars and visitors that come to town to experience our music each year--for events such as South by Southwest, the ACL Festival, and many, many more--is mind-boggling. Austin Music People wants to be the organization that "protects and grows Austin's music culture and our reputation as the Live Music Capital of the World."

If you love music and/or musicians, if you care about music, please support AMP. They are having their launch party tonight, starting at 6 pm at ACL Live at the Moody Theater, featuring bands like

Ghostland Observatory

Blue October

Court Yard Hounds

Alejandro Escovedo

Brownout

Bavu Blakes

The Coveters

Bright Light Social Hour

Nashville Trip Log # 1: Tom Jackson's Bootcamp

2010-10-05T10:35:00.000-07:00

For the last two days of my trip to Nashville, I attended Tom Jackson's Live Performance Bootcamp for Singers and Bands. It was a very valuable experience and I highly recommend it for all performing musicians.

Tom Jackson is a guy who lives for great performance moments, and he wants to help musicians identify and accentuate them in their shows. He calls himself a Live Music Producer, and he and his crew (including three other Jackson-trained associates) claim to be the only people doing what they do: working with bands and artists to hone their performance into a truly memorable experience for an audience.

Even if they're not the only ones doing it, it's easy for me to believe that they are the best at it. Although I had seen many of his DVDs, I had a blast seeing Tom Jackson work in person for two days. He observes and listens with a keen eye and an open heart, and then leaps into action. He interrupts, extracts, rearranges. He suggests and watches. He brings dynamics into a song, where before there was a wall of sound--"goulash," as Jackson would call it. The process calls the audience's attention to the performers' personalities. We hear deliberate sparseness, then fullness. Suddenly, the hotshot guitar lead guitar player is in the spotlight. Then we get a glimpse at just how funky that bass player can be. Finally, the whole band rips it up together.

A lot of Jackson's feedback is nonverbal, a hilarious and fascinating combination of air guitaring and imitating the sounds of various instruments. The communication is beyond words--yet musicians get it, because it reminds them about what's exciting about music, about why they play in the first place, about the things that can get lost in the effort to get the notes and pitches right. After a few repetitions of this process with an artist or band, everyone in the room of about 70 musicians would erupt in applause in response to the exciting effectiveness of his changes.

Tom Jackson's work is ultimately about courtesy for the audience. It's about stepping back--really stepping back, to the tune of weeks' worth of additional rehearsal--to a) become conscious about what we're trying to say with a song and b) make that absolutely obvious to the person watching and listening. It's also about writing a giant permission slip and handing it to developing performers--inviting them to take charge, take a chance, cop an attitude, and shine like a star when they step onstage.

If you were in a play or a movie, you'd have a director to help you focus your performance this way. If you're a writer, an editor could help. But for musicians, particularly in this Wild West era of Indie and the Internet--where an artist has to cobble together a support and development team on his/her own--artists and audiences alike can benefit from this kind of coaching.

Colin Boyd

2010-09-10T20:56:00.000-07:00

I met Dallas singer/songwriter Colin Boyd in 1994 at the Kerrville Folk Festival, and we became fast friends. In the years since, we have written and performed together a bunch, and he has always been a great supporter of my music and writing.

Against great odds--at a time when I was living in Houston and getting my MBA at Rice University, a million emotional miles from my musical self--he was able to talk me into beginning the recordings that became my debut CD, Purple Room.  He was an awesome producer, engineer, player, teacher and collaborator throughout the project.

This coming Tuesday, September 14, Colin's coming to Austin to play a show with me at Momo's. It will be an extended, Happy Hour-palooza, from 5:15 until around 7:30 p.m. The show will be some of me, some of him, and some of us.

There are so many reasons why the whole city of Austin needs to catch the Colin Boyd magic! He writes the most yummy and catchy pop songs. Like "Flutter," the song Jack Ingram recorded and took to #51 on the Billboard Country chart. Or "Rainbows Follow the Rain," the song he wrote for a Barney movie. He is a seasoned, rock solid performer who has logged about a bajillion live shows in the time I've known him.  His vocal and musical choices are always tasteful. But perhaps my favorite thing about Colin Boyd is something you'll just have to come to Momo's next week and see live, and that's his amazing rhythm hand on the guitar. Not that he doesn't rock it on the lead, too--but his rhythm hand is jangly and thwacky and for me, always a bit breathtaking.

One of my favorite memories of my wedding day is Colin's version of Springsteen's "If I Fall Behind." He is my very favorite guitar player, which is one reason why I wanted him to play in my band when I performed at SXSW. Colin always sounds great, and I always know that when we share the stage, he's gonna make me sound great, too. I can't wait for you to check us out!

My Coach

2010-08-24T09:50:00.000-07:00

You may have asked yourself, "How does that Tricia do it? How, exactly, did she grasp her creative life back from the swamp of motherhood? How does she juggle all of those plates in the air, while standing on her head?" If you have ever wondered, the answer is simple: I have a lot of help.

For example, I have a creativity coach. Her name is Katherine Torrini, and we have been working together for almost a year and a half. Mostly we talk on the phone, and sometimes we meet in person. Since we began our relationship, I have accomplished many goals. I have successfully established routines around practicing and writing and also begun performing again. However, these outward actions are merely the blossoms, the outcome of extensive inner discovery. Katherine has supported me in questioning the way I feel and talk to myself about creating, helping me to remove real and perceived obstacles to getting to work.

My favorite things about Katherine are her enthusiasm and her empathy. She has the ability to meet me wherever I am on a given day. The best thing about coaching is that it is my investment in my creative life. I do it to strengthen me in remembering and making time for the most important and life-giving parts of myself.

In October, I will be joining a new coaching group, led by Katherine. If you live in Austin and are interested in investing in your creative life--which is to say, connecting with your truest self--maybe you'd like to join us? Group coaching is more affordable than individual coaching, plus you will get the benefit of having a team. The 3-month group will meet, in person, twice a month on Thursdays beginning October 7th, from 9:30-11:30 a.m. Please contact Katherine, via her website, for more information!

Snippetwriter

2010-08-08T20:36:00.000-07:00

I've had a lot of great breakthroughs this year. For one thing, I shocked myself by getting a regular, twice-monthly gig at Momo's. And it really does get better and better, more and more fun, each time. A couple of weeks ago, I met with a music publicist, Cash Edwards, who gave me a ton of great advice and suggestions about working with the local press to get more folks on my bandwagon.

I also have some great stuff coming up. In early October, for example, I'll be attending Tom Jackson's Live Music Performance Bootcamp in Nashville. It's my first trip to Nashville, and since I'm a songwriter, I feel a bit like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, heading off to the Emerald City. Only it's me who's green!

I'm writing away, fantasizing about having a purseload of new songs, with which to knock off everyone's cowboy boots. But I find I'm just not finishing songs right now. I don't really like that.

The other night, I had my Songwriter Date Night, and I took some time to look back over my big songwriting notebook. As I flipped through it, I saw that I have a ton of snippets--ideas, unfinished bits, etc. I also saw a few instances where I worked on songs for awhile, several times, before I managed to "finish" the song. These are songs I play live now, and I got to go back and see how I started them four or five different times before I came to the version that turned into the "finished" one. Each time, I added more depth and exploration and came to a clearer sense of what I was trying to do with the song.

I'm choosing to embrace the snippets. To see myself as a snippet writer, not a songwriter, and trust that the snippets will lead me on. If I get all freaked out, I put pressure on myself to finish things. But I don't want to miss out on the depth.

I Heart Creative Moms

2010-07-22T09:03:00.000-07:00

This is a YouTube video by Mom's Rhap(sody). It's a parody of Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody." These women totally have my heart, because they're taking their everyday life and making art out of it. Brilliant, funny, nuts. Their kids are lucky. (Thanks to my friend John Winfrey for passing this on).

Approximating Fairness

2010-06-17T12:43:00.000-07:00

photo: Luke Sharrett/The NYTimes

This morning, as is usual when I run errands, I was listening to the radio. Today's top story: BP Chief Executive Tony Hayward's appearance before a House panel to discuss the recent oil disaster in the Gulf of Mexico. There weren't a lot of details at that point, but without hearing too much, I knew some of what to expect. From our representatives, I assumed there would be high emotion, tough questions for Mr. Hayward, as well as opportunities to publicly declare--and for all of their constituents to witness--strong stances on the disaster. From Mr. Hayward, I expected an apology and careful side-stepping of legally treacherous details.

This is how we do it when things go wrong. Does it work? Does it help? I hope so. Over the past two months since the Deepwater Horizon explosion, I have heard a lot of people, with much good reason, condemn BP, the oil industry, and corporations in general. I've heard expressions of satisfaction that BP and its shareholders have seen their stock plummet in value. I've heard a lot of folks express sadness, anger, and helplessness about the extent of the damage. Some are tired of greedy executives. Others, even those who drive gas-powered cars and enjoy the convenience of petroleum-based plastic products, have grown tired of the drawbacks of fossil fuels.

It's a relief, and a luxury, to have someone to be the target of all of that rage. I envisioned another scenario, in which God was invited to appear before a similar committee. I imagined outraged representatives presenting equally blistering questions on the technical aspects of various earthquakes, tsunamis, floods, hurricanes, and that obnoxious volcano that grounded European air travel for a week or so back in April: "Why does the Earth's mantle have faults, anyway?" "Why must the continents drift?" "What, exactly, did You know, and what did You do or neglect to do to protect innocent people?" I imagined a "shakedown" in which God was summoned to the president's office and pressured to establish an e$crow account for the victims of His disasters. I imagined the factions building on each side--one side defending, the other accusing--according to whether He had contributed to or doomed their political campaigns.

I also imagined the outcry that might ensue if God failed to appear, which He has been known to do, at least in my experience.

I intend no disrespect to the residents of the Gulf Coast Region. Nor do I intend to minimize the gravity of the destruction of life and property caused by this tragic disaster. I just wonder about the productivity of the media frenzy. No doubt, Tony Hayward wishes for a way to click the "Undo" button, to somehow have the power and capacity to make it up to the sea, the birds, the fishes and shrimp, and the fishermen and shrimpers who make their livelihood on the Gulf. Not to mention BP shareholders. Or the families of the 11 crew members who were killed. Fairness isn't so easily found. And so, in a scenario of specialized knowledge, expensive technology, mind-numbing devastation, and slow progress, we grope for fairness as best we know how.

Guest Blog Post

2010-04-26T20:30:00.000-07:00

Check it out!

I wrote a guest blog post for Stacey Hoffer's blog, The Mom Renewal Project

Serious

2010-04-22T13:02:00.000-07:00

My Comeback Gig

2010-03-24T20:43:00.000-07:00

photo: Melissa Kellogg

A couple of weeks ago, I played on stage for the first time in about three years. While I have kept up writing, singing, and playing, I have taken a big ol' hiatus from performing since my daughter was born. My "comeback gig" was a truly wonderful experience. I had a great turnout of loving and supportive friends from my whole life in Austin. I am so grateful for everyone who came out and helped create the festive and electric vibe. Special thanks to my pal Renee Trudeau, who wrote a blog post about my show!

I loved playing at Momo's--it was my first time to play there. I love the stage, the sound system, the fun indoor/outdoor space, and I loved the gorgeous weather we had that day. My set wasn't perfect, but I knew it wouldn't be. I had spent weeks working to remember my old songs, to write a new song, and I challenged myself to try out some guitar leads on about five of the songs. There are so many balls to keep in the air when you're doing it on your own, as I am. Overall, I was really proud of myself. Now I just have to replicate and improve it, over and over.

We had fun. I gave out free CDs to everyone in the audience. I sang a song about cookies. Since I’m on this big scrapbooking kick, I had people sign a guest book to commemorate the night. And I had a contest where folks could have a chance to win a $50 gift certificate to Waterloo Records if they named other artists who I sound like. Want to know what they said? My fans said I sound like early Jewel, Carrie Underwood, Leonard Cohen, Joni Mitchell, Tori Amos, Suzanne Vega, Sheryl Crow, Colbie Callait, Sarah McLachlan, the Indigo Girls, and Joan Baez. Wow!

They used these words to describe the show: “smokin’ hot,” “beautiful,” “amazing presence,” “grounded in life,” “sweet,” “from the heart,” “hilarious,” and “inspiring.”

This is my dream! To listen, to write, to play, and to sing. To make space for all of the things that we don't always talk about, but need to feel, once in awhile. To explore the connection between audience and performer. To experience the power of music. And to have fun. There, I said it. I don't know why I have this dream, but I am committed to showing up to see where it leads me. If you are reading this, I hope you will join me when I perform. My next Momo's Happy Hour is Tuesday, April 27th, 5:15-6:15!

Live at Momo's Happy Hour!

2010-02-25T19:41:00.000-08:00

It's my debut at Momo's. It's my first public performance in over three years. It's my return to the stage after a "hiatus" known as motherhood. It's your chance to hear some old songs and some new songs. Bring your smile. Bring your heart--get ready for me to climb inside!

Wed. March 3rd. 5:15-6:15 p.m. 618 W. 6th Street.

What Makes Me a Good Mom?

2010-02-21T16:05:00.000-08:00

First of all, I don't want to be a good mom. I want to be an excellent mom. I don't have to be perfect to be excellent.

So what makes me an excellent mom?
1. An excellent mom is awake, present, open, and responsive.
2. An excellent mom takes care of herself. She has a self and a life.
3. An excellent mom knows when to lead and when to follow her kids' lead.
4. An excellent mom controls the pace and stress of the house. She knows when to push and when to put on the brakes. She doesn't overschedule herself or her kids! She knows it's important to have time to putter. She knows when it's time for a treat, a break, a bubble bath, or a backrub.
5. An excellent mom is creative. She creates "home," schedule, nourishment, nurturing, learning experiences, and perspective.
6. An excellent mom is centered enough to weather the storms of her kids' feelings without getting sucked in.
7. An excellent mom shares her joys, her struggles, her triumphs...not in a burdensome way, but in an informative way: "this is what life is like...you try things..sometimes it works/feels good, sometimes it doesn't. and you try again."
8. An excellent mom has a network of support. She doesn't try to do it all alone.

As kids, and as adults, who do I want them to be?
1. I want them to like themselves. I want my kids to know who they are and what is right for them. Sure, they can take time to arrive at that place, and they can make mistakes in the process. But I want them to know that they have a place in the world, that they belong, just as they are.

2. I want them to be problem solvers. I want them to develop tools to figure it out and/or ask for help. I want them to be able to take something big and break it down into steps. I want them to be confident to make decisions, to take risks, to try new things, and to learn and move on when/if something doesn't work.

3. I want them to dream big. I want to provide an example to them that shows that dreams are real. I want to help them to find the thing(s) inside of them that thrill them, and to make that into what they contribute to the world and make their livelihood from.

My Guru

2010-02-15T20:43:00.000-08:00

It was around the holidays. I was grocery shopping, with both kids in the cart, around 5 p.m.--the busiest possible time in the very busy store near my house. I was dashing from aisle to aisle, trying to hustle our way out of the building with dinner, before either kid (or both!) melted down. My mind was full of plans, my to-do list, the recording of the Christmas song I co-wrote with my friend Terri Fann, which I had been schlepping around to radio stations.

At first, I didn't notice him: the aisles were so packed with people. But as I walked past him, in this kind of incredulous tone, he said, "Wow! You're really beautiful!" And I must admit, I did look really good that day! I was wearing jeans and boots, and my favorite new orange sweater, which my super-shopping husband had given me for my birthday. But still--it's not every day that someone comments on my appearance in the middle of my grocery store trip.

I was so taken aback, I tried to think of what to say. So I decided to keep it simple: "Thank you." That's when I first really saw him. He was young, probably college-age. I don't know what his particular diagnosis was, but he walked with a walker, so I would guess he had some type of nervous system degeneration--maybe multiple sclerosis? Talking was, for him, a great effort. So this one statement, "Wow! You're really beautiful!" took awhile to get out.

After I thanked him, thinking that was the end of it, he went on: "Are you seeing someone?" And at that point, I really had to start laughing. Good grief, who on Earth did this guy think he was? I was wearing my wedding rings, I had two children in my cart, I was grocery shopping, and he was hitting on me? Huh? I must have looked confused, because he said it again: "Are you seeing someone?" Followed by, "Are you seeing me, right now?" It was then that I saw the twinkle in his eye, and I laughed again and said, "Yes, I am. I'm seeing you, right now."

I don't remember much after that. I was in my hurry, and it was crowded, and the whole thing was just so...weird. He shuffled off, and I finished my shopping. But in the next few minutes, I realized that something truly momentous had just happened to me. Here was someone who must be the subject of so much projection from people in life, just making up his mind to have a good time. He just didn't care, in a way that was completely inspiring. He was gone, but I was suddenly so curious about him--who he was, what was going on with his body, what his parents were like, everything. I wanted to know how a spirit could be so bright, so oblivious of rejection. I wanted to be just like him.

If I see him again, I hope I have time to buy him a coffee, and to hear more about his story. For now, and from then on, he's my guru.

Ass Power

2010-02-01T21:04:00.000-08:00

Quincy Jones famously attributed Michael's enormous success to his "ass power":

At one point I asked Q what separated the great stars from the near greats he'd worked with. "Ass power" was his reply. To illustrate his point, Q compared Michael Jackson to another well-known vocalist he'd produced. The other singer, an artist with an immense voice and an insatiable appetite for cocaine, would come to the studio, maybe lay down a scratch vocal, and then wander off for hours. Jackson, in contrast, would come to the studio, record a strong lead vocal, work the stacked harmonies that distinguished his work, and practice where to place those ad-libs that were his trademark.
"His ass power," Q said, "would keep him in the studio until he felt he'd accomplished something that day. That ability to focus, to stay in that chair in the studio, listening to playback and then going back in to record some more -- that's what separates the good from the great."

(From City Kid: A Writer's Memoir of Ghetto Life and Post-Soul Success by Nelson George)

On Accepting My Family Members the Way They Are

2009-12-13T20:35:00.000-08:00

(This is a re-post of something I wrote in 2005).

It's the holiday season....

So that means it's time to get together with friends and relatives, go to parties and work get-togethers, and plan how we're going to spend those special days.

I've been thinking a lot about these rituals, as I prepare to spend part of Christmas Eve with my in-laws and most of Christmas Day with my family. I always try to reflect upon what the season means, I mean, aside from running around and shopping.

I spent seven years living away from my family, and now we're all in the same town again. I'm getting a crash course in what being a family member means. Ideally, families accept and support us no matter what. They provide company and friendship and a sense of where we come from. Ideally. Now, I don't know how your family is, but mine doesn't always meet my ideals.

For me, the birth of Christ represents a wellspring of hope into the world. This year, I am celebrating that hope by working on accepting others. That means accepting every single member of the bouquet of humanity, as I would like to be accepted.

It's no picnic, accepting others. Some people are quirky. Or abrasive. Or messy. Or absolutely lacking in empathy. Or really self-absorbed. Some are just plain clueless. One of my family members, who shall remain nameless, seems to need to have the TV turned up very loud to get through a social gathering, even for just a few hours. Another, also anonymous, is absolutely lovely and a joy to be around, provided that she's getting her way. After that, all bets are off. She becomes snippy, short-tempered, and brittle. And it's always someone else's fault!

All of these special qualities in my family members tend to make me have feelings in response, and they aren't generally comfortable or enjoyable feelings. I find myself wishing they'd change, fantasizing some more perfect family gathering that would result from their transformation.

But this year, I'm trying to avoid spending my time wishing these traits away.

Because I think it distracts me from being present. This year, I'm working on beholding my family in a spirit of gratitude and acceptance, treasuring each encounter just the way it is.

I'm working on giving and accepting love. Giving love even though someone else may have done something or been some way that means they don't deserve my love. Accepting love even if it doesn't feel just the way I hoped it would.

The tricky part is that some of these folks can really offend me, and I don't think being accepting means being a doormat. So it's a fine line to balance, accepting someone just how they are because it's probably the best they know, and also speaking up for myself, firmly, when my gut tells me I need to.

Lately, I've taken to wearing what I call an Invisible Teflon Shield. You can't see it, but it's silver, and I activate it with a switch above my head. And I also think a lot about the general health of my spirit in any given moment, and try to remain inspired no matter what goes on outside. I have an internal dialogue when someone irks me, and it goes something like this: "OK, so that happened. What does that really have to do with me?"

I've also been thinking about the 23rd Psalm, the part that says, "He prepares a table before me in the presence of my enemies." It may be shocking to think about family members as being enemies, but in a spiritual sense, they really can be. The way certain family members wield disapproval and judgment is truly a form of violence. That passage reminds me that God will continue to bless me even if every single person doesn't agree with or approve of me. Remembering that makes it easier to let go, to let others be nasty if that's the path they choose to walk. What does it have to do with me? I don't need them to change to know who I am and to walk my own path with confidence.

Finally, as I approach the big holiday week, I remind myself that it will all be over in a few days. We'll come together, there will be a bunch of moments, some warm and fuzzy, others cold and bristly. Each person will most likely do what each person tends to do. We may all get surprised by something. The experience either will or won't live up to our expectations of how a family holiday should be. My plan is to just keep breathing in and out.

Then we'll all go back to our respective lives.

In a way, the holidays are annoying, because they're a disruption to my normal routine, and they're a lot of extra effort. They can be truly overwhelming if I'm not up for it. But this year, I've really enjoyed the extra effort. I am excited about giving gifts. I attended a Christmas party that felt like Old Home Week, where I saw about a dozen friends I hadn't seen in almost a decade, most of whom didn't know I was even back in town. And I'm so looking forward to watching my kid open the gifts Santa has brought him because he's been so good! Today someone asked me how I was doing and I said, "I'm riding the wave." The wave, of course, being the holiday surge of energy. We have a few more days left until we reach a fevered pitch and then the wave will pass for another year.

God bless everyone!

Donations Needed

2009-12-09T09:19:00.000-08:00

My street is adopting a family for the holidays. It's a big family, and they need many things. If you can help with any of the following items, please let me know by Friday, Dec. 18th. Happy Holidays!

Mom: New Bed, cordless phone & answering machine

Mom & Aunt: Appointment at beauty salon for haircut

Son: New dresser for his room, watch, disco ball, gamer/floor chair for his room, hair clippers, telescope

Items for the entire family to enjoy:

Steam clean carpets
New oven (the stovetop only works now)
Space heaters (2)
Monopoly
Dance, Dance revolution (with compatible game system)
PJ’s for all
Futon to replace a living room couch
New pillows, pillow cases
Picnic table
Karoke machine
DVD player & DVD’s (requested: Dora, Spongebob, English learning instruction)
Laptop w/internet
Trampoline with net
Bikes
Stereo
Nintendo Wii
Game boy
TV

For the younger ones:

Little red wagon
Little red scooter
Step 2 Easel for two (says the young ones like to draw)
Magnetic chalk/dry erase board
Any Dora & learning toys
(beds!?)
learn to play drumset elmo
learn to play keyboard
baba baby elmo
fun 2 learn cash register
on the go gift set elmo

Loving What I Have

2009-10-21T21:13:00.000-07:00

"Mona With Curly Hair," by Olaf-Jan, Norway

I wanted to post a photo of the woman who takes my latte order on Fridays, while I'm waiting for my daughter to finish her Gymnastics class. However, although I chat with her every week, I'm too shy to ask to snap her photo. So I will post this photo of Mona Lisa instead, with hair that looks a lot like the Latte Lady's. The first time I met her, the Latte Lady's long, curly hair was swept up on top of her head in a bun, with big, uncontainable chunks spilling out--in short, the kind of hair I have always admired and wanted. So, of course, I asked her what I always ask someone who has that kind of hair: "Do you like your hair?"

Of course, she said "no." She then went on to tell me about the lengths she goes through to straighten, flatten, blow-dry, etc., so her hair will be straighter.

This will be a short post, because I have stuff to do, and it's about not really about hair. It's about taking time to like what we have. Lately I have been writing posts about my kids and parenthood and conflict, and how challenging it can all be at times. I have written before that these intense moments capture my attention, but I need to say that, percentage-wise, they make up a very small part of my life as a mom. And although I might make it sound like I would change my kids or my situation, I have numerous and frequent moments when I recognize that I really have a great deal going over here.

This weekend we went camping, and since the weather was absolutely beautiful, I had occasion to put sunscreen on my kids. And I was slowed down enough to truly soak up the enjoyment of rubbing the lotion on their little faces. I said all of these things, like "Hold still!," "Don't wiggle," "Be careful so I don't accidentally get it in your eye, it stings so much when that happens!" All of that was true. But really, I was just prolonging and savoring the opportunity to gently hold their little chins, and rub their cute little noses, and have them standing still, so close to me, for a little bit longer.

I have been blessed with two of the most beautiful children ever. They are healthy and bright and curious and energetic and loving. Most of the time, I adore taking care of them, and I can't wait to see who they grow to become. They do so many things right, and even their "wrong" is still just a part of learning about life on Planet Earth.

I just needed to say that, because it's true. And I'm all about telling you the truth.

Comments, hmmm....?

How My Kids Drive Me Crazy

2009-10-10T22:35:00.000-07:00

A few years ago, I had a cool conversation with Austin child psychoanalyst JoAnn Ponder. Not only did she totally validate me by saying that she feels that being home with kids is harder than any other job, she described the parent's work as being a lot like being a therapist. "You have to be IN your feelings, but able to step OUT of your feelings," she explained.

I loved that! It perfectly summed up the crazy-making part of being a truly effective parent. Sure, there are a lot of challenging things about raising kids. Lots of decisions to make: things like what to feed them, when is bedtime, where do they go to school, who should they hang out with. But, at least for me, none of that is what drives me crazy. It's that part of being like a therapist that drives me crazy.

First, the first part, being "in your feelings." To be a great parent, you have to be deeply, and I would argue, almost insanely, engaged. You have to be tuned in and connected to facilitate the optimal development of an infant, toddler, preschooler, or older child. This truth is the reason why you can't outsource your parenting to a computer game, Baby Einstein video, or boarding school. Your kid might develop in relationship to any of these things, but she won't thrive as well as a child whose parent really cares about her and spends time in the trenches with her. Some--especially some who have never had kids--say this kind of engagement is mere narcissism, namely, that I love my kid so much because he/she is MY kid. For me, I love my kids because they're my kids, but I also just love kids. I am motivated by a blend of wanting to help create happy and mature humans and a sense of responsibility to society and to my kids.

So when we are "in our feelings," the best barometer of our kid is our own feelings. If we are open and connected to them, we exist in this bizarre state of symbiosis (only we're the same species, sort of!). We muddle along with them, and we feel what they feel. If they're happy, we light up. If they fall down, we mirror concern and frustration. This feeding-back process how kids learn to understand and internalize a sense of their emotions. And it can be really fun and rewarding for the parent, too. Our kids, with their not-quite-yet connected cerebral cortexes, rely on us to regulate their emotions. I like to think of it as their making a remote connection into my limbic system. "Thanks, Mom! Much better now..."

Yet there's this second part, the "able to step out" part. Normally, that just means that the parent and the child are not equals, and that the parent, ideally, has a greater level of objectivity and control, which he/she lends to the child. Even this business about helping kids label the feelings that go with experiences shows that the parent is in a different place. He/she isn't actually the one with the skinned knee, but rather the one who helps the child name and process the feelings that go with it. So even though a good parent is tuned in and invested in what his/her child is going through, it is really important to be able to both be there and let the child have the space to have her own experience.

Knowing when I should step out of my feelings is fairly straight forward for me. Being able to...well, that's the real challenge. For one thing, all kinds of things, such as sleep deprivation, sickness, bad days, and other upsets can make my own feelings especially sticky in a way that can ooze out onto my kids. When I am in need of rest or support, I am sometimes a little too connected to my kids' feelings. Which is bad news, because they're all over the place! And then there are the times when my kids are actively attempting to hook me in to their feelings. For example, as another famous child psychoanalyst, Erna Furman, wrote, "The toddler's close but primitive relationship with the mothering person contains a kind of love which derives pleasure not only from mutual kindness but also from mutual irritation and conflict. ..at times, hurting and being hurt are sought and felt as a form of being intensely close to each other."

I know that, when my kids are being little pests, they're not doing it deliberately to drive me crazy. Who wants her mom to be carted off, after all? They're doing it because they're acting out something they're feeling, and they probably couldn't put words on it if they tried. Or they're tired, or hungry, or overstimulated. Or teething. Whatever!: they're still being pests! The vast majority of the time, I take it in stride, maintain my center, and step out of the way. But if I'm not on top of my game for some reason, it really does feel like my head is going to explode, and not taking things out on them is a big challenge. Sometimes I send myself to Time Out. Sometimes I give warnings that I am about to begin yelling, which no one likes. And sometimes I actually do yell. Mostly, I just wish for a vacation, or someone who will take care of ME for awhile. I remind myself that the stress comes in finite pockets of time that eventually pass. Sometimes, just for laughs, when my husband comes home from work on one of these extra-pesty days, I quip cheerfully, "Did you bring home any heroin for me?"

I'd love to hear your observations...leave a comment!

Where My Rights Begin

2009-10-05T15:20:00.000-07:00

I want everyone to leave my blog, right now, and go over and read this one. It's a post by Bernadette Noll, about what is, for me, the most fascinating and vexing parenting reality: what to do, how to respond, when I get angry at my kids.

By now, all faithful readers of my blog know that I sometimes lose it with my kids, as evidenced here. To give myself credit, it doesn't happen often. But it's so huge when it does, and it feels so overwhelming, that I find it absolutely compelling. I want to understand myself in these moments. And mostly, I want to find a reliable and principled way to deal with them.

So now I am inspired by Bernadette, and I was planning to write more on this topic anyway! I got several comments on that post about smacking my son, folks saying how courageous I was to write it. To me it doesn't feel that way. It feels natural to write about it. If I'm not ashamed to ACT that way with my kids, I sure shouldn't be afraid to WRITE about it. (Oh...but I was ashamed to act that way! anyway...)

Here's what I wrote on Bernadette's "comments" page:
"Why isn't everybody in the world talking about these moments with our kids? In our ker-ay-zee world of war and suicide bombers, why aren't all parents taught, early and often, about these inevitable times? Because they're just the very most important opportunities, that's all. Dealing with anger--that almighty mobilizer and protector of our selves--is the linchpin of our work as parents. Whatever we do, our kids will take as true, and bring out into the world. Just like all the other billions of humans are doing."

Family life is the greatest of intimacies. It's about love and sharing, and it's also about our needs bumping up against each other. When anger comes up, it is always our self telling us that we are ignoring and/or neglecting it. The trick, especially with kids, is to heed that warning and stand up for ourselves, AND to do so in a way that we would feel proud to see our kids replicate. I want to give my kids a way to deal with their own, and others', anger--one that will best serve them in life, outside of our unique family communication system.

When I am angry at my children, it is generally for these reasons:

They are behaving egocentrically, i.e., incapable--usually temporarily--of thinking of anyone else. Of course! They're kids
They are harming persons or property.
They don't "get it" about what's expected in a given setting.
They are demanding my presence, only in an unacceptable way--by acting out. They need my authority and leadership (and often, a pillow).
I am overwhelmed and undercared-for in some/many ways.

I'm going to be writing more about this, and I hope you'll be reading and chiming in.

Blue In A Red State

2009-10-01T11:58:00.000-07:00

Dear Senator Cornyn,

As a constituent and someone who has worked professionally to improve the quality of health care, I would like to be kept apprised of the conclusions of the Senate health reform working group of which you are a member. Specifically, I would like to know what you feel are the most pressing areas of reform, and which areas you would go on record to support. I agree with you that our country is large and diverse, that our health care system is complex, and that there are many problems.

I appreciate hearing your bottom line--that you would like to protect the private market players and individual choice. However, I am skeptical that the private market will just stumble across the kind of efficiencies you mention, without legislative pressure.

Sincerely,
Tricia Mitchell

From: "SenateWebmail@cornyn.senate.gov"
Sent: Thursday, October 1, 2009 8:24:41 AM
Subject: Thank You For Contacting My Office

Thank you for contacting me about efforts to reform our nation's health care system. The American health care system faces a myriad of complex challenges: rising medical and prescription drug costs, a lack of stable insurance coverage, and a medical bureaucracy that is increasingly difficult to navigate. I appreciate having the benefit of your comments on this important issue.

I am well acquainted with the frustration of many Americans struggling to meet their health care needs within the current cumbersome system, and I understand the urgency to implement sound revisions. According to the Congressional Budget Office (CBO), spending on health care will account for nearly 17 percent of Gross Domestic Product in 2009—totaling as much as $2.6 trillion. Health care costs have more than doubled over the last ten years and far outpaced wage growth, and I believe that meaningful health care reform is very important. However, I believe reform can be achieved by lowering the cost of health care without spending more money and without giving Washington more control over the decisions of doctors and patients.

Health care affects every American and I believe we need to take the time to listen to the patients, providers, families, and small businesses that will be significantly impacted. America has a highly complicated system and it is important to ensure that changes are thoroughly considered and not hastily passed by Congress. It may interest you to learn, that I am helping lead a Senate health reform working group that meets regularly to discuss the most pressing areas for reform in our nation’s healthcare system. It is important that Americans have access to affordable health insurance and therefore, I believe we must reform our health care system, emphasizing individual choice and trusting patients, their families, and their doctors—not lawyers or bureaucrats—to make health maintenance and treatment decisions. I am committed to improving access to quality, affordable health care, and you may be certain that I will keep your views in mind as I work my congressional colleagues, as a member of the Senate Finance Committee, to address this critical issue.

As Congress works to reform our health care system, I will adamantly oppose the creation of a Washington-run government health insurance plan, which I believe is unequivocally a gateway to a single-payer system. I believe that a new government-run health insurance plan will devastate private insurance markets by acting as a competitor, regulator, and funder. Independent estimates have found that such a plan could result in 118 million Americans losing their current health benefits, and leave 130 million Americans to rely on a government-run health care plan. Additionally, I cannot support punitive health benefit taxes on small businesses, which will hurt wages and jobs.

Successful health care reform will put patients in charge, and improve the insurance system so that providers will compete for their business by delivering high quality care at affordable prices. I appreciate having the opportunity to represent the interests of Texans in the United States Senate. Thank you for taking the time to contact me.

Sincerely,

JOHN CORNYN
United States Senator

517 Hart Senate Office Building
Washington, DC 20510
Tel: (202) 224-2934
Fax: (202) 228-2856
http://www.cornyn.senate.gov

Please sign up for my monthly newsletter at http://www.cornyn.senate.gov/newsletter.

PLEASE NOTE:
Due to the nature of electronic communication, if you did not receive this e-mail directly from my office, I cannot guarantee that the text has not been altered. If you have questions about the validity of this message, or would like to respond to this message, please use the web form available at my website, http://www.cornyn.senate.gov/contact.

The Worst Day

2009-09-16T13:54:00.000-07:00

photo: Aihibed Magaña

I'm going to tell you about one of my worst parenting moments: the day, about a year ago, when I smacked my 5-yr old upside the head. When I shared this story with Carrie Contey, Ph.D., who I consult now and then about all matters mom-related, she urged me to write about it. She thought it might help other parents.

The first thing you need to know about me is that I endeavor to be a very, very conscious, and certainly non-violent, parent. (I almost wrote "hands on," no pun intended). I read a ton, and probably have at least the equivalent of a Master's degree in child development. I am very engaged with my kids, I spend a lot of time with them, I am tuned in, and I have worked hard, especially in the first three years of each of their lives, to meet the vast majority of their physical, mental, and emotional needs. This is my job; I am a professional. Other parents have commented on my exceptional patience.

I don't spank my kids, because, well, I think it sends a bad message. I know it's a controversial topic, and to those who advocate corporal punishment, this post will seem silly. My bottom line is that using violence teaches violence. And if an adult hit another adult, it's called "assault," and you can go to jail for it. So why not give kids some other tools for their tool boxes? I do a lot of things to help my kids communicate and behave well, so that's normal for them. When things get out of control, we do "time outs," but my kids aren't isolated in their room while they're upset. The "time out" is really a time to calm down, not a place to experience intense emotions without any support. I have also been known to send myself to "time out." My basic approach to my kids' emotions is something like teaching them to drive. When they're having feelings, I try to support them by putting words on the feelings and helping them, gradually of course, to learn to regulate them. It's possible to learn to regulate your own emotions while also dealing with being afraid and confused by your parent being violent, but I think it's harder.

But there was that one afternoon about a year ago, not long after my son started Kindergarten. I had a neighborhood party to get ready for, so I was probably rushing. And rushing him. We found ourselves in an escalating power struggle over homework, and I could tell that he was getting overloaded. Suddenly, as I was leaning forward over his paper, he hit me in the face, knocking my glasses to the floor. Before I even realized it, I smacked him right back. And then I stopped, gasped, and well, I don't even remember all of what happened after that. I vaguely recall a lot of intense upset, a "time out" for him, an apology from me, and a lot of attempts to get back on track. He said some things about the "pressure" of being in school all day. I said what I believe--that it's never ok for a grown-up to hit a child, no matter what. The whole thing blew over, on the surface, in that I stopped talking about it to him. But I was a wreck for about a week. At the neighborhood party that evening and afterward, I felt really, really horrible. Who was I now that I had struck my kid? How would other people see me if they knew? No one was more shocked than me to learn that, if you hit me in the face and knock off my glasses, I just might hit you back, even if you're less than half my size. It was pure reaction--this was something I never would have consciously chosen as a parent.

But you know what? I also felt relieved. My son and I had been having these micro-skirmishes, pretty much ever since his little sister was born. And when these things happened, I would act okay on the surface, saying and doing the "right" things. If another adult observed me, I think he/she would say that I handled them well. But under the surface, I was becoming acquainted with the most intense rage I've experienced since, well, probably since I was a little kid. My son's behavior and our conflicts were triggering a bunch of old stuff for me. I don't think I ever really put a lot of stock in "the unconscious" until I began to be emotionally hijacked by the behavior of this little person I love so much. My internal reactions were much bigger than what his part of it warranted.

So when I finally snapped and smacked him, I was relieved because I had finally done what I was so afraid I was going to do. And then, I could not only forgive myself for it, but I also talked to some other trusted friends and they still thought I was a pretty awesome mom. And my son? Well, it was really not such a big thing from his side of things. He did hit me first, after all, and he knows what it's like to lose control and then move on.

Being a mom of two kids been a long hard road, with many chances to learn about myself and to do something that feels like detonating internal land mines. I want to give my kids the best of what my parents gave me, plus more, including all of the information we have now about how kids attach and develop. I'm amazed at how well I've done, how much help is out there, and how many ways I've figured out to react differently. I'm happy to report that I don't think I will do that again.

Poverty and Politics

2009-09-15T11:59:00.000-07:00

When I was an undergraduate at The University of Texas, I took an unforgettable government class, from a professor named Henry Dietz, called "Poverty and Politics."

According to Dr. Dietz, all poverty policy is created from one of two approaches: structural or cultural.

If you believe that poverty is structural, you think that people are poor because, try as they might, the system is not accessible to them. If you are a policy maker who believes poverty is structural, you might try to pass laws that do things like expand transportation services, improve schools, or make housing (or health care) more affordable.

If you believe that poverty is cultural, you think that people are poor because, even though the system is accessible to them, their immediate social environment prevents them from taking advantage of opportunities. If you are a policy maker who believes poverty is cultural, you might try to influence the culture, by providing opportunities for education and role modeling. Or you might believe it's not government's place to do anything at all, since poor people need to change themselves.

Which one is "true"? They both are! It varies from individual to individual, which one has more impact--structure or culture--even within one poor family. That's why people can say, "Look at so-and-so! He rose up from nothing!" And it probably varies over the course of one individual's lifetime.

Legislation is, indeed, a blunt instrument, especially if we're talking about federal legislation in a country as large and diverse as the U.S. People can say that "government doesn't fix X, Y, or Z," but that statement will inherently miss part(s) of the picture--either who needs fixing, or what might fix them. It will also overlook the fact that, in our glorious representative democracy with term limits, "government," like the population, is a changing body.

And I would also add my own theory: poverty is spiritual. Interestingly, this kind of poverty afflicts all kinds of folks, and doesn't care how much money you have. In this case, the politician might not be as effective as the minister--or even better yet, the present, active, and engaged parents and community, from square one.

Death Panels

2009-09-13T20:41:00.000-07:00

No one really wants to think or talk about rationing health care. No one wants to be the one who chooses which country gets hit by the tsunami, either. We call those decisions "acts of God," and we accept them as part of life, even if we don't understand or like them.

But what about in realms, like medicine, where humans get to play God (sometimes)?

In the heat of current debates about health care reform in America, former Alaska governor/vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin caught a lot of folks' attention by spreading the rumor that the House bill contained provisions for the creation of government-run "death panels." Aside from reminding everyone that a vote cast in fear counts as much as one based on reason, this news further galvanized conservatives who already opposed the plan.

Rationing is a fact of life in a world where resources are finite. We ration food, money, time, and lots of other things every day. In health care, rationing decisions are ideally made by the doctor and her patient, with a reasonable assessment of the likelihood of success for a given treatment. But you hear stories about families who prolong the patient's treatment, for lots of reasons, healthy or otherwise (Terri Schiavo comes to mind). And you hear stories about doctors who misjudge the prognosis, informing that someone has X months to live when, in fact, the patient goes on for years.

In a previous life, when I thought I wanted to be a doctor, I had interviews at several medical schools. In one of them, the interviewer posed an ethical dilemma about rationing. In the scenario he described, there were two patients with kidney failure and only one dialysis machine in the hospital. I was in charge: who would I allow to use it? The wife of the town's banker, or the town drunk? He wanted to know who I would choose, and why. What criteria would I use to decide who would get to live--would it be age? social status? financial ability to pay? gender? the fact that one or the other had a family at home? future productivity? The interviewer grew increasingly frustrated with me because I kept coming up with answers like "fly in another dialysis machine." He then amended the scenario to include a blizzard! This went on and on, comically, because I refused to choose whose life was "more important" than the other's. (I got wait-listed at that school!)

Conservatives can act like rationing will happen with reform, as if it doesn't now. They can pretend that the current form of rationing--folks with money get to live, folks without don't--produces the best results, or the most truly American results. Really it's just the results that favor them, for now.

What if we had town hall meetings about who we value most and why? Or meetings to help us better accept the reality that health care dollars--which represent the time and training of medical professionals, plus supplies, overhead, the unpaid bills of the uninsured, the fraudulent payments to the dishonest, the payments on the MRI machine, the decades of pharmaceutical research, the bonuses of insurance company executives, and so much more--are limited? What if we talked about how life is unfair, but that we--as families, communities, and as a nation--can try to make it as fair as possible, and accept it, with love, respect, and dignity, when we can't? Maybe those meetings should be called "church," or "therapy." Whatever they're called, they're not happening, as far as I can tell.

Pulling the Plug on Grandma

2009-09-10T09:15:00.000-07:00

By now, if you're tuned into the debate in the U.S. about health care reform, you've heard the scary predictions about how the proposed changes will affect folks who already have insurance. Conservatives and Republicans believe that offering a "public option" will lead to the following undesirable consequences:

no private insurance company will be able to compete with the public system because the government will keep raising taxes to subsidize it. The private companies will go out of business.
corporations who now offer health insurance to their employees will stop offering that coverage, forcing people to move to the public system.
the public system will be, by definition because it is public, poorly run and will provide worse care.
the public system will not adequately reimburse doctors for their services. Doctors who earn a lot of money now will not be able to do so once a large number of people are covered by the public plan.
the best doctors will not be doctors anymore. the doctors who remain in the field, and the people who train in the future to become doctors, will not be "the best" doctors.
the new plan will not be adequately funded (or something?), so there will be rationing of health care. In other words, someone else--not your doctor, and not you--will be deciding whether you receive treatment for your condition. Most likely, I'm told, it will be a government bureaucrat who knows only spreadsheets and not you. And certainly not health care.
we will pass on an unmanageable financial burden to future generations with no benefit.
providing health care to all Americans will cause us to lose our national character in terms of excellence and global competitiveness.

I have so much to say about all of these assumptions. First of all, because it's just how I am, I wonder how we know these things are going to happen. Second, I enjoy pondering what these assumptions say about us and our beliefs about human motivation. What do we believe and trust when we imagine about why people become doctors or politicians or bean-counting bureaucrats? And third, why do we act like this is the end of the world? Like we can't go back and adjust and amend things later as all of these "catastrophes" materialize?

Have you ever kept track of your predictions about the future? I'm amazed at how consistently I'm wrong! If I'm reluctant about going on a trip, I end up having fun anyway. If I'm in a bad mood, something good happens that turns my mood around. All of my fears (especially the worst ones) are based on the past. Usually the reality of life turns out to be a little bit of what I was afraid of, plus good things, plus some stuff I never imagined. If I reflect too much on how little I know about what a choice will bring, I might never get out of bed. The good news is that I trust myself, my ability to deal, and the support I have around me. And I trust that I can always re-group and keep evolving.

My bottom line? Health care reform has to start somewhere. Honestly, I don't care where, as long as 1) it does start, 2) it does continue, and 3) it always puts the needs and health of consumers above those of the shareholders of publicly-traded companies.

One of the Best Things I've Ever Done

2009-09-07T21:15:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, for some reason, I thought back to 2005, which was one of the hardest years ever for me. At that time, we were struggling after a cross-country move, we had a toddler for whom we couldn't find the right child care, I was sleep-deprived and overworked, on and on. Oh, and I had two miscarriages somewhere in there. All of that stress played itself out everywhere, but especially in my marriage.

I remembered relaying all of this to a confidant, and saying these words, which still kindof amaze me: "I would never forgive myself if I made any decision about my marriage right now, because we're just under too much stress. When things are better, when we're sitting on the beach sipping daquiris, I'll ask myself if I like the person I'm with."

I'm here to tell you that I am grateful (and I gotta say, more than a little impressed with myself) for that stunning stroke of maturity. Yesterday, when we were all home for Labor Day, relaxing, I thought about all the good that has come out of not letting a genuinely trying time bring out the worst. I still like my husband--or maybe I like him again--and together, we've not only weathered some tough times but given our kids the gift of having parents who work on their relationship. I'm also grateful for my husband, who is also committed and hardworking and didn't give up on me, either!

Oh Well, That Mug Was Too Much Pressure Anyway!

2009-09-07T20:57:00.000-07:00

It sure did fit a lot of coffee, though! I will miss that part.

All of the Poor People Should Just Die

2009-09-03T11:47:00.000-07:00

I don't like it that participants in the current Medicare Part B program can get free flu vaccines. I just saw that, on a sign at the grocery store. I don't want to have my tax dollars going to people who don't work as hard as I do. Why should I have to pay for other peoples' bad choices? It's not my problem that people didn't work hard like I did, and like my family did. It's not my problem that they don't have health insurance like I do. I work for a good, solid corporation. We were a plum account for our insurance company. We work hard, so the insurance company negotiates discounted rates with our doctors and hospitals.

If poor people can't afford to pay for their own vaccine, then let them get the flu. But if their kids get the flu, they shouldn't send them to school. They should stay home with them. And if they have to miss work to take care of their kids, they can just lose their jobs. And if their employers have to scramble because their employees have to stay home instead of coming to work, they'll get over it. And if their landlords have to evict them, they will find someone else to move in. If the landlord has to foreclose on the property, someone else who works hard will buy it. Eventually, the housing market will recover.

America is a great country because you can see what you're made of. You can pull yourself up by your bootstraps. That's what I do. Pull myself up by my bootstraps and make good choices. I was once a sperm and an egg, and I made the good choice to get myself together, to grow, and to be born. Then, I made the good choice to grow up in a good home and go to good schools and live in a house with people who had health insurance.

I don't want to have to pay for health care for poor people because it's too expensive, and I work hard. I am in the top tax bracket, and folks like me are the ones who pay for these programs, not the vast majority of people who don't work hard and don't make good choices. If my taxes go up, I might not be able to pull myself up by my bootstraps. If small businesses have to pay for their employees' coverage, then there goes the fabric of this country, entrepreneurship. Let them scramble when their employees are sick, or when their own kids get the flu from those other kids whose parents don't have the good sense to keep them home from school.

Government can't do everything! All I want is to preserve the fabric of this country, what has made us the envy of the world. And that's the ability to make your destiny, if you work hard. I don't want to live in the former Soviet Union. It's a slippery slope. If you start paying for the health care of people who don't work hard, you're just a few steps away from communism, despite the fact that the former Soviet Union was not a representative democracy with term limits, and despite the fact that that country began with a violent overthrow of the czarist system. Still, it's a slippery slope.

Doctors work hard. And hospitals work hard. If poor people can't pay their bills, that's not the problem of doctors or hospitals. They should just refuse to treat them. And then, maybe the poor people will all either die or go away. Or maybe go to college to get a better job.

I don't want to have to pay for prisons, either. I'd rather save up my money for a 15 foot high fence with an alarm system around my house. I'd rather move to a part of town where there aren't any poor people. I agree that health care is a problem, but it's not my problem.

Is Giving Over-Rated?

2009-09-02T19:44:00.000-07:00

I'm being serious! For the life of me, I don't understand why humans say "it is better to give than to receive."

Aren't they both important? If I don't receive, then how can someone else give? And when I do give, I don't find as big of a "gift" in giving to someone who isn't able to graciously receive my offering. I guess it's noble to give to someone who's indifferent or ungrateful--but is it better than graciously receiving from someone else?

Also, I think that giving too much can dilute the value of a gift. I'd rather have someone give me one rare but thoughtful gift than a whole bunch of tiny ceramic thingies I don't have space for (not to mention that my small kids demolish breakables). And I'd prefer if some folks would give to themselves sometimes, instead of dissipating their own energy by worrying so much about others. Why doesn't anyone talk about that?

The older I get, the more I think it's about being mindful of all of this stuff moving around than about which direction it's going. We give and receive all the time, with our presence, our energy, our attention and encouragement, our sincerity. Happiness in life depends on paying attention to that, and remembering that we're all connected and dependent on each other.

Current Motherhood Conundrums

2009-08-31T09:55:00.000-07:00

I see a lot written about what mothers are, or what we suppose them to be, but not so much about HOW they do it. Mothers are the Orientation Advisors for Planet Earth. They're Julie, your cruise director. They are the matrix from which a person emerges. How wonderful it would be to have a helpful matrix, one that facilitates success and happiness in the broader culture.

To be truly successful that way, a mom must have a perspective. That is, she has to be awake. As a mom, my goal is to be like an oak tree--rooted, strong, unerringly stable. That doesn't mean I'm never confused, broken down, or fed up. It means I have words for these feelings and their expressions, and that helps me to present them as transitory states. They are all part of life. They are not end points, and they're not to be stridently avoided like pits of quicksand.

If you are not awake as a parent, you will do what you do. But you won't necessarily have reasons for it, you won't have words to describe it, and you won't be able to present that path as a choice, with both benefits and drawbacks. I want my kids to have choices. Having choices means you can weather whatever hard feelings come with the drawbacks of the choice. Coping with hard feelings involves 1) being rested, fed, and not overwhelmed, and also 2) being able to distract oneself and re-focus on something helpful or positive.

Here are my current conundrums, as I nurture, protect, and teach my developing humans:

1. How do I teach that # 2 above (distraction/re-focusing) to a 6-yr old? By modeling it? By lecturing? By supporting him through micro-doses of those experiences? Some combination of all of these?

2. Then there's also this piece about me--my basic rights and needs, like the right to not be driven crazy by my kids' nit-picky and ever-changing preferences. That is pretty easy. Deeper still is my need for self-esteem. How do you tease out the self-esteem that might come from being a "good" mom--after all, it's a LOT of work--and the self-esteem that I need to bring with me to the party?

3. How affronted should I be by my kids' behavior? How much affront is OK to express?

4. How do I separate when they need to go through something themselves and they object strongly? How do I know when to not take their behavior personally?

5. How do I balance what my kids appear able to handle with the real or perceived demands/expectations of the culture? How do I learn about age-appropriate behavior and, once I do, protect my kids and allow them to be below the curve (above the curve isn't ever a concern, is it?).

The House That Merce Built

2009-08-02T19:03:00.000-07:00

Twenty years ago, I was awarded a scholarship to study in the Professional Training Program of the Merce Cunningham Studio in New York City. I had been in New York for about nine months, and a friend at the restaurant where I worked suggested that I check out the studio. Since I had primarily trained in ballet prior to that, and because my friend knew someone in the company, he thought it might be a good fit for me--Cunningham's technique is, in part, based in ballet. Not long after I started taking classes there, I decided to try for a scholarship.

The audition was, well, like an audition. Which is to say it was like taking a dance class, only we had paper numbers on our backs. Merce was there, but he wasn't obviously paying attention. In fact, he did something that looked like balancing his checkbook at a small table in the back of the studio, while we were trying to impress him. Somehow, though, he must have found out what he needed to know--I have a vivid memory of taking the elevator up to the 11th floor of the Westbeth building to look at the list later that afternoon. My name was on it! Thus began two rich years where dance was the center of my universe, in the dance center of the planet Earth.

Here is the part where I would love to tell you about the beers I shared with Merce, how he became a mentor, how we stayed in touch until his death last week. All of that would be a big lie. Merce and I were at various functions at the same time--performances, fundraisers, we'd even ride in the elevator together on occasion. And he definitely knew who I was, and once sponsored me in a dance-a-thon I did for a local AIDS charity. And at the tail end of my time there, I even got to take his class. But Merce was busy being a world famous choreographer, and I was one of what must be thousands of students to come through his studio over the years.

But what I did get was the house that Merce built. I received a scholarship, a Pell Grant, and a work/study position in his film/video archive, three very welcome things that made it possible for me to both pursue my passion and live indoors. I was expected to take class six times a week--and I could not be late!--in the gorgeous studio in the West Village, lined on each side with windows. Until I die, I will remember the sensations of my bare feet on that fine, smooth wood floor, the click-click of the teacher/human beat box' rhythms as he/she demonstrated a combination, and the sweaty thrill of dancing to live drummers and musicians. I could go into a long list of the folks I trained with and from--some of the finest dancers and teachers anywhere. I soaked up Cunningham's choreography in day-long repertory workshops each quarter. And I watched tons of videos of his work in my 9-hr a week job on the 2nd floor, when I was supposed to be just duplicating VHS tapes.

My time at the Cunningham Studio provided me a dance home in New York and entree to a world that deeply affected my heart and sensibilities. Not only did I get to see Cunningham's amazing dancers, I was also swept into performances, in the Cunningham Studio and off the beaten track around town--spaces that might be living lofts by day and impromptu concert halls by night, spaces where ordinary dancers like me, from around the world, combined movement, words, music and/or film in delightful ways I had never imagined.

I never did get into Cunningham's company like I had hoped, but I had a great time trying. The Studio was a place of work, of discipline, of trying things, of seeing what happens, and of letting go of what happens. During my time there, I got to push through being an intermediate level dancer and reach an exciting command of my physicality. I got to see how professional dancers approach a phrase--it turns out that they just start somewhere and dive in! I grew half an inch while I was there (literally!), and I learned, during the spine bending warmup exercises that are repeated in each and every Cunningham class, to pop my sternum, a feat that still confounds. Best of all, I got to see Merce come to the studio, every day--even as arthritis slowed his pace--to make dances. I have carried that image, and I believe, a little bit of his spirit, into every endeavor I have undertaken since. I am extremely grateful for that amazing gift.

A Personal Renewal Group for Mothers (and Other Artists)

2009-06-16T19:36:00.001-07:00

"Courting the Muse!"
Starts Tuesday July 28th, 2009
Creativity coaching group. Facilitated by Austin singer/songwriter Tricia Mitchell .

Do you want to feel more connected--to yourself, your art, and to others?
Are you craving the support and structure that will enable you to move to "the next level" as an artist?
Would you like to learn how to nurture your physical, emotional and spiritual well-being--so you can be at your creative best?
Are you interested in new ideas for self-renewal and life balance?

Topics Include

"The Transformative Power of Self-Care" (on a physical, mental, spiritual, and emotional level)
"Your Identity As An Artist"
"You and Your Crazy Dreams!"
"Inspiring the Work Space"
"The Inner Play Space (for Kids of All Ages)"
"Managing Your Energy: Setting Priorities, Saying 'No,' and Asking for Help"
"Treasuring Your Obscurity"
"The Power of Flow"

Feedback About Tricia:
-"Brings great focus, reverence, clarity and humor to the process, while she lovingly guides the meetings and the follow up." -Liz B.
-"Knowledgeable about both the systems and the attitude that I need to succeed." -Donna R.
-"Packed a tremendous amount of rich material, reflection, and sharing into a short time without giving any impression of rushing." -Deb. P.
-"Every time I walk away from a meeting, I have a spring in my step and AT LEAST one new idea I want to pursue or ruminate upon." -Risa F.
-"If you want to cry less and laugh more, run--don't walk--to Tricia's next PRG!" -Kara S.

About the Facilitator:
Tricia Mitchell is a mother, a singer/songwriter, dancer, and writer, and a Renee Trudeau & Associates-trained Personal Renewal Group (PRG) facilitator. Her approach is appreciative, motivating, and filled with humor. She has an MBA from Rice University and lives in East Austin with her husband, two young children, and a Labrador Retriever.

To Learn More or to Register:
Begins July 28th, meeting every other Tuesday evening for twelve weeks, at Armstrong Community Music School at Austin Lyric Opera, 901 Barton Springs Rd., 7-9 p.m. For info or to register, e-mail Tricia at pigtailrecords@yahoo.com or call (512) 940-4027. Cost: $180 for 6 meetings (includes e-mail support/reminders between meetings). Registration is on a first-come, first-served basis; group size is limited to twelve participants.

Decide

2009-05-25T21:07:00.000-07:00

At our last PRG meeting, we talked a lot about deciding. It's something I'm really into right now. I used to really agonize over things, and now, especially as a mom, I find it so freeing to "just decide." Did you know that the origin of the word "decide" is "to cut"? When we decide, we take leadership over our future, by cutting off some of the possibilities. It's powerful stuff.

Of course there are good things and bad things about any choice. Of course we always have limited and imperfect information. What I like about deciding is how good it feels to choose as best I can, know it won't be perfect either way, and vow that I will live with the choice I made, whatever it brings. When I was a kid, my dad always made these cracks about what a drag it was to have adult responsibilities. I have been surprised at how much I really enjoy being an adult, being the captain of my ship, getting to try things and see how they go. It's not so bad, and in most ways it beats the heck out of being dependent.

When the husband and I were on the fence about having another kid, he kept coming back and asking me increasingly strange questions...about what if the baby had a disability, what if we struggle financially, what if I went back to work, what if this, what if that. After awhile, I said, "you know, it seems like you might not want to have another child. And if you don't want to have another child, for sure I do not want to have another child. So let's just decide! Let's be happy with the two beautiful children we already have. We're grown ups--so let's just say that we're not going to have any more kids. Sure, there may be times when we feel wistful and wish we had another, but there will also be many times we're glad we didn't take that on."

That was such a great experience, and we were both immediately relieved. Then I got to start thinking about the next part of my life, post-mom-of-young-kids, which gave me this great surge of energy. I hadn't realized how much of my energy was caught up in not knowing whether I would be prolonging this intense and exhausting stage of my life even longer. Now I think that not knowing and being in limbo actually use up tremendous amounts of energy, way more than dealing with the fallout of any particular choice does. Carrie Contey, Ph.D., my favorite parenting coach, concurred with me that deciding is great role modeling for my kids. It teaches them that they can choose, without a lot of waffling or wailing and gnashing. I'm one of those people who believes that we really do know what the right choice is, if only we will listen to ourselves and own the responsibility of making the cut.

Churning the Universe

2009-05-07T19:27:00.001-07:00

You may be asking yourself the following questions about the past couple of weeks:

1. Tricia, why did Howard Thompson begin playing your song "Girlfriend of the Band" on his internet radio show, North Fork Sound this week?

2. Why did David Hooper recently play your music on the "Demo Derby" portion of his marvelous radio show, Music Business Radio? (I haven't heard it yet, and I can't even tell you which episode it's on, but it's due to air soon).

3. Why is Sara Hickman's version of your song, "Learn You Like a Book" in a voting contest (details below)?

4. Why all this, so all-of-a-sudden, in the last two weeks, when you're not performing live or actively promoting your old, old, CD, "Purple Room"?

It's simple. I have begun a self-imposed singer/songwriter boot camp, and I am churning the universe, from the inside out.

I have hired a coach. I have a new guitar teacher, we're meeting twice a month. I have resumed piano lessons. I'm still with my same voice teacher I've been with for almost five years. I am practicing like a little someone-or-other who practices a lot. I'm taking on my personal demons, summoning my inner hero, and shining up my goals and direction. I've connected with a version of myself who lives 20 years in the future, and you know what she told me? "You're going to have so much fun not being so creatively pent up anymore!" I even bought a new music stand--it's shiny and red. I'm busting through, come hell or high water.

For real. All that inner stuff, and then this outer stuff pops up, no less than two weeks later. Awesome, huh?

So go vote for my song! You can vote once a day through May 30th.

1. Go to: Hoss the Boss
2. Scroll down to "Sara Hickman, 'Learn You Like a Book'"
3. Check the box
4. Click on VOTE!

Thank you! (we're in first place right now!)

Every Mom Needs A Copy ...

2009-05-06T11:51:00.000-07:00

FREE MOTHER’S DAY BOOK DOWNLOAD ($20 value)

Download a free copy of national life balance expert Renee Trudeau’s award winning The Mother’s Guide to Self-Renewal: How to Reclaim, Rejuvenate and Re-Balance Your Life for 48 hours: May 8th-May 10th.

www.mothersguidetoselfrenewal.com

I can't say how much I love this beautiful and powerful book! It has contributed greatly to my peace, happiness, and ability to be a balanced role model for my kids. I am currently leading a self-care group for moms based on this book.

Download it today! Thank me later! (You deserve it.)

Happy Mother's Day!

To Wake Up Inspired...

2009-04-03T07:00:00.000-07:00

This is a brilliant video/song by Tanya Davis, from Halifax.

Thanks to Kathie Sever, who posted this on her blog.

It's just so perfect, everyone needs to see it.

And big kudos to me, for figuring out how to embed a video in my blog! La la la la la..... :)

TOP 10 Reasons Why You Should Love Brad Paisley As I Do

2009-03-28T21:06:00.000-07:00

Now it is time to write my long-awaited reflections on seeing Brad Paisley perform at the Frank Erwin Center. I have received hundreds of comments from faithful blog readers since I posted my musings on Darius Rucker's show. The people, they want to know: How was he?

All I can say is that I believe everyone should be a fan of Brad Paisley. I am afraid some of you-- namely my Yankee friends, my really cool liberal friends, and some of my other friends who aren't keen on country music--won't even check him out. On the surface, he probably comes across like any other skinny, little white guy who sings with a southern accent.

When I have these fears (and this is part of what has taken me so long to write about this), I get a little frustrated. I'm just so sad for y'all.

My TOP 10 Reasons Why You Should Love Brad Paisley As I Do:

10. He just won two Grammys and is nominated for six American Country Music awards, including Entertainer of the Year. 10 million albums sold. Thirteen #1 hits.

9. If you're a dude, Brad Paisley should be your role model. You should admire him because he is SO grounded in the things he loves in life. It's not that he's not into chicks--he is (just check out "Ticks")--but not so much that's he's gonna give up going fishing or playing his guitar. He's not the one writing these pathetic, co-dependent, "I'm gonna die without you" songs. (Well, except for "Whisky Lullabye." but that song is SO over the top, with the double suicide and all. You know better than to try that at home).

8. If you're a woman, you should want to be/be with a guy like Brad. See #9. Women, believe me, you want a guy who's grounded in the things he loves in life. And most importantly, you should ground yourself in the things you love.

7. He is a great songwriter. His songs are catchy, and usually funny, and smart. We all need more catchy, funny, smart songs. Do yourself a favor and go watch "Letter to Me" and see if your heart is unmoved.

6. At his Austin show, even though he's a big fancy famous guy, he brought out locals Ray Benson and Redd Volkaert. How cool!

5. He did this crazy thing where Alison Krauss appeared on stage with him in a hologram. Spooky!

4. He showed this amazing and fun little animated movie that he made, featuring delightful caricatures of his band, The Drama Kings. Like he doesn't have enough to do, between being a great songwriter, an amazing guitarist, touring all over, being married to that actress from the "Father of the Bride" movies, and being a dad. He's just gotta bring it home to the fans.

3. He respects his elders. Brad is a guy who reveres the traditions and teachings of those who came before him. His new CD, "Play," features many of his heroes, folks like B.B. King, Albert Lee, James Burton, Buck Owens, Steve Wariner, and Vince Gill. And oh my God, speaking of elders: have you seen that video with Andy Griffith, for "Waitin' on a Woman"?

2. He is a complete badass on the guitar. I call him "BrAD-ASS"! If you have any doubts that this statement is true, go buy or download his new guitar record, "Play." Thank me later. Any dudes who didn't make him their role model after reading #9 above, should do so after listening to this CD.

Here's what Brad Paisley he says about his new CD:

"This album is my love affair with the guitar. When I was eight I got a gift from my grandpa. No coincidence that around that time I also got an identity. See, no matter how I have changed, learned and evolved as a person, the guitar has been a major part of it, and really the only constant. A crutch, a shrink, a friend, love interest, parachute, flying machine, soapbox, canvas, liability, investment, jackpot, tease, a sage, a gateway, an addiction, a recovery, a temptress, a church, a voice, veil, armor, and lifeline. My grandpa knew it could be many of these things for me, but mostly he just wanted me to never be alone. He said if I learned to play, anything would be manageable, and life would be richer. You can get through some real tough moments with that guitar on your knee. When life gets intense, there are people who drink, who seek counseling, eat, or watch TV, pray, cry, sleep, and so on.

I play."

1. If you are a human, you ought to like Brad Paisley. He comes across as a very successful, multi-talented, down-to-Earth, super nice guy who gets to do what he loves for a living. And he's at all shy about expressing his gratitude about that.

(Brad, I do have to say that I will not be watching the ACM awards on Sunday night. I'll be taking my husband to see Bruce Springsteen, at your joint, the Frank Erwin Center. I guess this is my year of big arena shows.)

Got Cracks?

2009-02-19T19:33:00.000-08:00

As in, spaces one might fall through?

Sometimes really suddenly, so that your life completely changes?

Do me a favor, and head on over to some websites for me:

Start by clicking on the photo of the cute baby on the upper right side of my blog.

You'll meet Ike, a 10-lb baby who is doing time in the pediatric intensive care unit at Dell Children's Hospital. He was born something like 15 weeks premature last fall. Lately, he's been making a strange wheezy sound when he breathes, and then, more recently, he caught a virus that made it almost impossible for him to breathe.

His mom is a wonderful writer who also has two other kids. Check out her blog, too, especially if you like witnessing someone who can go through a pretty horrific set of events and remain funny, tender, smart, and tough. After you check out her blog, go buy her book, Haiku Mama, from Amazon. Makes a great baby shower gift!

Ike's dad's whole department was laid off last week. Very unexpectedly. They have COBRA coverage, but it's expensive.

Everyone knows that the "current economy" is not in the best of shape. You may be hearing about people losing their jobs, homes, etc. This particular family is caught in the midst of that. Their community is stepping up in a major and very inspiring way, and I invite you to step up, too. Ike's website lists some upcoming fundraising events. Please attend, and give generously. And regardless of whether you attend, or whether you give, please keep this family in your thoughts and prayers.

Personal Renewal Group for Mothers

2009-02-12T19:33:00.000-08:00

Do you want to feel more connected—to yourself and others?

Are you craving community with like-minded women?

Would you like to learn how to nurture your physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being--so you can be at your best for your family?

Are you interested in new ideas for self-renewal and life balance?

You are invited to join a Personal Renewal Group (PRG)—a life coaching group for women at all life stages, based on the award-winning new release The Mother’s Guide to Self-Renewal: How to Reclaim, Rejuvenate, and Re-Balance Your Life, by nationally recognized career/life balance coach Renee Trudeau.

Facilitated by good old me, Tricia Mitchell.

Topics for the 2009 Personal Renewal Group may include:
“The Transformative Power of Self-Care” (on a physical, mental, spiritual and emotional level)
“Motherhood and Identity: Reconnecting with Who You Are”
“Good Is Good Enough: A Mother’s Mantra”
“Motherhood as a Spiritual Journey”
“Outrageous Living: Reclaiming Adventure in Your Life”
“Strategies for Life Balance”
“Managing Your Energy: Setting Priorities, Saying No and Asking for Help”

Feedback from 2003-06 Personal Renewal Group Participants:
“I love the powerful, deep nature of this work, it has made a huge difference in my life.” -Susan
“I was concerned about spending $ because our budget is really tight. Wow, am I glad I decided to do PRG. This has been a truly meaningful and life-changing experience for me.” -Kristan
“The open, safe environment for sharing was amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it. I felt comfortable to say anything.” -Maria
“The exercises on saying “no” (boundaries), setting intentions and managing our energy were profound.” -Janet

For info or to register, e-mail Tricia at pigtailrecords@yahoo.com.
Cost: $200 for 12-month program (includes 12 morning workshops, e-mail support/reminders between meetings and a copy of The Mother’s Guide to Self-Renewal). Meetings will take place at my house in East Austin, on the fourth Monday of each month beginning MARCH 23rd*, from 9:30-11:30 a.m. Registration is on a first-come, first-served basis; group size is limited to ten participants.

(*this is a revised start date, as of 2/17/09)

The Amazing, Invisible Mama!

2009-02-04T10:38:00.000-08:00

She was having a hard time. She was the mom of a 5 month old baby, and for the first time in a very long time, she wasn't sure that her work, her life, was valuable enough. This mama, who I will call Mama (actually, it is her real name!), posted on one of my favorite listservs, and I immediately knew I had to respond.

Here's part of her post:

"I have been struggling with the idea of my identity now that I am not working and letting my husband support me...I have always had female role models that worked and worked hard outside of the home. I don't really want that for myself (I think)...I know that I am working hard as a mom, but it just seems unfair for him that he has to be gone and at work so that we have the
luxury of having a family. Is this just the way it works and I need to get used to it? Seems so
domestic role-ish, which is not how I pictured my life being going into my thirties."

Here's what I told her. Some folks said they liked my response a lot, and the truth is, I liked it! So here you go, faithful blog readers:

Dear Mama,

I can totally relate to your struggle.I have a 5 y/o son and a 2 y/o daughter. I have been working for $ since I was a teenager and I really miss bringing home a paycheck for my work. I have been a full-time working mom and a part-timer work-at-home mom, and my
feeling is that, if you have kids, you always feel like a giant piece of taffy somehow.

The one thing I wanted to tell you is to be kind to yourself. Becoming a mom is a huge journey. Those tensions will keep...they're not going anywhere and you will both have time to reflect upon them and also relax into them as time goes on. Some days you will feel like a freeloader, other days like a complete badass who makes the world turn! I have a feeling that when it's time to go back to work, you will know it, and you will know what the right next step is.

You should know about about Marilyn Waring, who in the 1970s was elected to the New Zealand Parliament at the age of 22. She went on to work on a budgetary committee, in which capacity she learned all about the ways that countries calculate metrics like GDP and GNP. She
discovered that, all across the planet Earth, women's work is invisible, in an economic sense. She wrote some books, including one called, "If Women Counted," and she's now a public policy professor.

I bring this up because sometimes I feel like my work doesn't count, like I've fallen off the map of life somehow, because I don't go to a "job," and because my "customers" ignore and/or scream at me a lot. Because my work involves being patient and often, sitting on the floor, one could imagine that I eat bon bons all day. Though in reality, I work my tail off.

If you feel this way too, you have good reasons! A woman can work hard, producing goods, i.e., children who will become productive members of society, and performing services, like taking care of family members, helping neighbors, running the PTA, etc., and yet at the end of her life, she may be seen as a drain on the system because all of that work doesn't "count." I had a friend who had to go work at her husband's store so she could rack up some $ toward her Social
Security, because "all" she had done before that was raise three kids!

It's a crazy planet, this Earth! Our society is a giant funny mirror! We're all mixed up!

I loved reading the book "Parenting for a Peaceful World," by Dr. Robin Grille. Grille argues that, throughout history, every advancement in democracy, social justice, and better treatment of the
environment has been preceded by an improvement in the treatment of children. Reading this book reassured me, beyond doubt, that the work we do as parents is the most important work of all in the grand scheme.

I recommend that you spend some time thinking and maybe journaling about what would make you feel that your days are productive enough to "count." Especially since it doesn't seem like it's your DH who is complaining. You get to decide what "enough" looks like! You are the one who gets to find a million bucks in the smile of your little cutie-booty.

"Some Rules and Hints for Students and Teachers," by John Cage

2009-01-26T08:17:00.000-08:00

Rule 1: Find a place you trust, and then, try trusting it for awhile.

Rule 2: (General duties as a student) Pull everything out of your teacher. Pull everything out of your fellow students.

Rule 3: (General duties as a teacher) Pull everything out of your students.

Rule 4: Consider everything an experiment.

Rule 5: Be self disciplined. This means finding someone wise or smart and choosing to follow them. To be disciplined is to follow in a good way. To be self disciplined is to follow in a better way.

Rule 6: Follow the leader. Nothing is a mistake. There is no win and no fail. There is only make.

Rule 7: The only rule is work. If you work it will lead to something. It is the people who do all the work all the time who eventually catch onto things. You can fool the fans--but not the players.

Rule 8: Do not try to create and analyze at the same time. They are different processes.

Rule 9: Be happy whenever you can manage it. Enjoy yourself. It is lighter than you think.

Rule 10: We are breaking all the rules, even our own rules and how do we do that? By leaving plenty of room for "x" qualities.

Helpful Hints:

Always be around.
Come or go to everything.
Always go to classes.
Read everything you can get your hands on.
Look at movies carefully and often.
SAVE EVERYTHING. It may come in handy later.

Darius Rucker at the Frank Erwin Center

2009-01-23T11:25:00.000-08:00

I am trying to decide which melted substance is most similar to Darius Rucker's voice. Butter is too thin (although properly yummy) and it's not deep and dark enough. Something like warmed up Hershey's syrup would come close--but not close enough. Really, don't settle for Hershey's. Make your own sauce--a dark chocolate sauce that isn't too sweet, whose flavors have taken awhile to meld together, one that is smooth and makes your taste buds want to keep hitting the "rewind" button so they can feel it all over again. That is how your ears and heart will feel while they listen to Darius Rucker sing in person.

I will write about Brad Paisley later. Today's post is all about Darius.

First of all, thank God Rucker is now making country music. As a Texan, a singer/songwriter, and a fan, I love country music. Lots of kinds of music are great, but country is where the best and most real songs are. I'm grateful that Rucker is making music at all, because it's been way too long since I've heard from him. And finally, thank God that Rucker gets to have a chance to get out from under being called "Hootie."

I was still roaming the massive Frank Erwin Center during the first song, so I missed a bit. I think he played about a 25-minute set. He has the vibe of being simply a great and very experienced entertainer, grabbing each song and jumping inside of it, sometimes giving a brief introduction that helps the audience connect with it, always using his body, face, and gestures to get his point across. I got to witness this huge presence on stage, and I wondered about what exactly that mystery element is, why he's so easy and fun to watch. I especially wondered about this during Dierks Bentley's set afterward--I liked it, and Bentley certainly works his tail off, but he didn't fascinate me the way Rucker does. And then, oh then, there is that voice--oozy, flowy, like melted chocolate. Even on the songs I hadn't heard before, I could hear every note, every word, from up in my nosebleed section seat. I thought about something my voice teacher, Liz Cass, says about how good technique enables a singer to convey much deeper levels of emotion.

I loved hearing Rucker's hit, "Don't Think I Don't Think About It," as well as "It Won't Be Like This for Long," and his rousing cover of Hank Jr.'s "Family Tradition." But the chocolate ran the thickest during his country tinged acoustic rendition of "Let Her Cry," his hit from the old days. Hearing it again made me appreciate what a great song it was and is.

So Darius, since I know you're a devoted reader of my blog, here's my recap of your show:
1. I'm happy I had the chance to hear you sing in person.
2. You inspire me to keep working on my singing.
3. I wish your set had been longer.
4. You'll be getting some iTunes royalties from me and my iPod.
5. I am really looking forward to hearing more.

Rappeling, With Children

2009-01-19T21:04:00.000-08:00

You were calling out to me all day today
Down there, all mushy on your bed,
you invited me to join you.
A school holiday, eight or so long hours, with my creations.
I was ready with structure--
square meals, nap, fresh air, and video
--so it's not like I was unprepared.
Yet still
there were moments where they tag-teamed me,
an odd little pair of stalkers:
"Mommy, mommy,"
pecked to death by ducks,
Before I can answer one, the other comes up
If make the taco, it should have been the hard-boiled egg,
I say, "use your strong voice" when I hear
Just how betraying each failure feels,
I say, "I will, as soon as I finish this,"
I say, "I need you to listen to my words"
who knows how many times?
And on a day--like today--when I'm not on top of my game,
When my composure is cracked and certain
adult critical voices can and do intrude,
when they are no longer cute,
when all of that need wants only to gobble me up,
when I have grown shadowy and thin,
and yearn for invisibility.
And there, there, is where I find you.
You, supine and resigned, call to me with your creepy smile,
a part of me, I think they're called mirror neurons?
Rappels down
While the rest of me stays.
I begin to believe that I could or should
be doing all of this perfectly, and am not
Yet I perform the most amazing feat anyway:
I am present, responsive, full of spine.
"Be like an oak tree," a friend says,
I remember this and do my best to seem oaky
whatever that means,
I muster a smile, a nod, a comment
that at least sounds like I'm hanging on every word
knowing that
If I can suspend this lie, over time,
for my two self-absorbed yet ever-watchful nubbins,
you, your memories and worldview
unspoken, unexplored, sporadically spooging their way out
you, who feels so small and incapable
who took all the wrong things for yourself
and gave the remainder too freely
will stay down there
and perhaps die a lonely death
while we go outside to play.

From Tricia Mitchell and Terri Fann. . .

2008-12-21T21:07:00.000-08:00

Happy Holidays!

This year, Terri Fann and I wrote and recorded a song honoring the person from our youth who represented the spirit of Christmastime. The one who untangled the lights, baked the gingerbread, shopped, swept up crumbs and pine needles, and tucked us in at night. The person who gave us the precious holiday memories we have today.

Now as we pass on the magic of Christmas to our own children, we get the magnitude of that gift!

During the occasional moments of quiet this season, we'd love you to grab a tissue and join us in reflecting on those times, to remember those we love and those who have loved us, and to celebrate the joy of creating holiday magic for today's kids.

Here's Terri's beautiful version of "Me and the Tree". The link will take you to an index page where you can 1) Click "meandthetree.mp3" to listen, or 2) Right-click "meandthetree.mp3", choose "save link as" or "save target as" (depending on your Internet browser) which will allow you to download the song to your computer (for burning your own CD or putting the song on your iPod). This is a free download, and it will be available through the end of the season.

Me and the Tree © December 2008 Tricia Mitchell, BMI, www.triciamitchell.com, Terri Fann, ASCAP, www.terrifann.com. Prod by Marvin Dykhuis, Terri Fann

Merry Christmas!

"What I don't like about office Christmas parties is looking for a job the next day." --Phyllis Diller

"The one thing women don't want to find in their stockings on Christmas morning is their husband."--Joan Rivers.

"Mail your packages early so the post office can lose them in time for Christmas."--Johnny Carson.

"I once bought my kids a set of batteries for Christmas with a note on it saying, toys not included."--Bernard Manning.

"I stopped believing in Santa Claus when I was six. Mother took me to see him in a department store and he asked for my autograph."
--Shirley Temple

"Never worry about the size of your Christmas tree. In the eyes of children, they are all 30 feet tall."--Larry Wilde.

"Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful."
--Norman Vincent Peale

The Angels

2008-12-14T20:33:00.000-08:00

From the top of a folding table at church,

we picked up two pieces of paper

shaped like angels,

with sticky note paper on the back.

By so doing,

we committed to the purchase of two gifts

for the children of an incarcerated parent.

It seemed simple enough at first.

First we drove, then shopped and chose.

Only as I tenderly folded the creases of the shiny wrapping

and tore the rectangles of tape

did I fully sense my unease.

Who on Earth did we think we were?

What right—and what power, really—did we have

To become a link in this particular chain?

Whose idea was it, to see if total strangers would (or could)

Put together what was certainly broken?

From you, the parent who can’t even guess what your child’s shoe size is,

Who writes on the little angel, “I hope I hear from you soon,”

You, without money to spend or presence to share…

To you, Young One, who has been told God knows what?

How might you make sense of this gesture?

Some hopeless part of us imagines the sneakers or the jacket:

Opened, then thrown casually aside.

I fret for way too long about whether they will see the gift receipts

And know to exchange them if the size is wrong.

I pine for the clue to shape or stature

That could make these items feel personal.

Our minds fill in the blanks with scenes from somewhere:

A mildewy apartment,

a TV that blares too loud,

a Christmas that is more punishing than peaceful.

We want to share our blessings,

To give a burst of delight,

How, without the reminder that our charity signifies a need,

Deep and stupendous,

That extends to the remaining days of the year?

We pray for forgiveness,

For our sins of omission and of commission.

We give up and just give.

What I Don't Understand About American Politics, Part 2

2008-09-05T10:33:00.000-07:00

"Supporting the Troops"

Why have the Republicans been allowed to claim that they support the troops and Democrats don't?

Isn't the best support one could provide a rigorous level of discernment about a) when and where we put our armed forces in harm's way, b) clear objectives, and c) a plan for determining the next step, once those objectives have been met?

Are "good" Americans truly supposed to yield to the chief executive officer once Congress gives approval? For how long? How does that jive with the right we're all supposed to have, in a democracy, to demand that our leaders represent our views?

I don't mind that John McCain supported sending troops to Iraq. A lot of people did. We were all deceived about the premises for going there. I also don't mind that McCain spoke up about giving enough resources to the troops so they could do their job.

All I want to know is what the definition of "victory" is at this point, and what happens when we get there. I support the troops by applauding their efforts and also by questioning the success of the mission.

What I Don't Understand About American Politics, Part 1

2008-09-05T10:06:00.001-07:00

What's wrong with being a community organizer?

I watched the RNC convention this week, and I heard Rudy Guiliani and Sarah Palin both mock Barack Obama's experience as a community organizer after college.

Shouldn't Republicans, who favor a smaller government, applaud a college graduate who takes on such a job in the private sector?

Here's an article that quotes Obama's boss when he held that position, who says that Obama went on to direct the program. Isn't that "executive" experience?

And if "executive" experience is what a presidential candidate needs, isn't Palin more qualified than McCain, as well?

Big Day Haiku

2008-08-24T20:45:00.000-07:00

what a special ache
for a mom, the night before
Kindergarten starts

The Breath of God

2008-08-16T11:01:00.000-07:00

Taking a slow, deep breath is like a cool drink of water for the mind.

This came to me this morning in yoga class. I've been thinking about breath a lot lately, in my voice lessons and practice, in yoga, when I meditate, and in certain moments of my life when I realize that I am stressed out and not breathing much. This morning I became mindful of my breath in each posture, as if that breath was the final inner flourish that brought it to life. Sheila, my Saturday morning teacher, even said something to this effect: "When you can take a deep breath, you know you're doing the posture correctly."

No one really knows if you're taking deep breath. You can get through your whole life hanging on to your tension, and you won't go to jail or be shunned by your community. It's really your business, your secret.

After yoga, waiting in a slow moving line at the grocery store, I had another thought: whenever I find myself holding my breath, it's because I'm worrying about someone else. Someone who has standards I might not meet, or someone who is going to judge me, or someone who will get upset. With a husband, two small kiddos, and a dog, it's pretty fair to say that someone or other is getting upset with me pretty frequently! I had this thought, and then I took a deep breath. There it was, a cool drink for my mind.

Somehow, I believe that holding onto tension will be a consolation to those judging, upset people. If I can't meet their expectations, so goes my thinking, I can at least show them how hard I'm trying! In this way, just taking that deep breath felt a little rebellious. I felt like I was slacking off somehow, or not being serious about my commitments. Silly, huh? Taking a deep breath wasn't going to change how fast the cashier scanned merchandise, after all.

As I drove home, I imagined all of this invisible pressure coming at my body from the outside. This is a chronic part of motherhood, and it really feels crushing at times. But then I imagined my breath as counter-pressure, a force that pushes back and holds all of that external pressure at bay, then dissipates it. The way to not collapse is to create that space inside of myself, by breathing in that cool drink. Suddenly breath has become prayer!

I had thought earlier that it's your business if you breathe. But that's not really true. I guarantee that, if you start to become more mindful and present, other folks will notice, even if they can't articulate what's different. In fact, I find that the more calm and centered I learn to be, especially in stressful situations, the more people gravitate toward me. And the whole reason why I get so stressed is because people depend upon me! Saying "no", being very decisive about commitments, taking time for self-care, and above all, remembering to breathe are my essential survival tools for being who I want to be in my life.

God is Here, Right Now

2008-08-11T20:00:00.000-07:00

My husband got a fancy new phone. No, it's not an iPhone, but it's still plenty cool. He was lost in it for days. He kept eating and sleeping, but his awake state was consumed by the phone. It has a cool keyboard that slides out, it can access the Internet, it takes photos, so many cool features.

The one I like the best has to do with the Internet. If you're into such gadgetry, you've probably seen this before, but I live under a mommy rock, so it's new to me. This phone is always scanning for wireless networks. We were driving home from somewhere one evening, and the husband allowed me, briefly, to hold his new phone. Suddenly words popped up on the screen: "detecting wireless network scooty1." Or whatever. Then we'd drive a little further and those words would disappear, only to be replaced with some other words about a new wireless network we were in range of.

"Can this phone tell when God is here?" I excitedly asked my husband, who looked at me quizzically. "Because I can't see a wireless network, and I can't see God. If your phone can tell you when a network is here, can it tell me when God is here?" "No wait," I said. "This phone can't do that, but maybe the gPhone could. Definitely not the iPhone." I chuckled to myself as I pondered this (to me, anyway) brilliant idea.

My desktop computer has a marquee screensaver where you can type in words that scroll across the screen when you aren't using it. I'm going to make it say, "God is here, right now." I wonder if it will make me pay attention more.

No Spanking at Sea World

2008-07-20T20:08:00.001-07:00

I think this is a good rule. If anyone from Sea World or the Anheuser-Busch corporation reads my blog, promise me you'll do everything in your power to make this a real rule.

My friends J & R went to Sea World with their 5-yr old. On an absolutely sweltering Texas summer day. Along with about 500 million other families. As they were going in, J happened to notice a group of several families, adults and kiddos, also entering. For some reason, they caught her eye. Well, later on that day, J & R stopped at some place in the park, and the same cluster of families was nearby. By this time, one of the kids was crying, and his dad was losing patience with him. Well, before you can say "Shamu," J sees the dad pick up his kid by the arm and begin whacking him on the behind. Right there, in front of everyone.

Now my friend J is not some meek bystander type. So she courageously walks up to the guy and asks, "Do you need to take a break?" And he asks her to repeat herself, so she does. He tells her he does, in fact, not need a break. J says, "That's going to stay with him for the rest of his life." To which Bruiser replies, "I want it to stay with him for the rest of his life." And then his wife, in what J described as a sticky sweet tone, walks up to interrupt, saying, "Ma'am? This doesn't concern you. Please move on." J replied that when someone chooses to physically discipline their child in front of her child, it actually does concern her. And the wife just repeated herself until J moved on.

I think there should be a whole website devoted to how to approach people who spank or shame their kids in public. Because although I so admire J's nerve, I can imagine being totally taken aback, and not knowing what to say, when this dad responded as he did. Someone (maybe even me!) needs to create a place where folks can find (and give) words to say in these moments. Because even if the parents are convinced that what their doing is the very best, one stranger chiming in with a different perspective could get through to that kid. And he might remember it and think back on it when he, for example, grows up and wants to understand why he has certain problems he may have.

When I heard the story, here's what I wish J had said: "Even the most hardcore proponents of spanking say that you shouldn't do it in anger, and you seem kinda angry. And you're at Sea World. And the tickets are REALLY expensive, and I doubt you worked so hard and saved up that much money so you could come here and hit your kid."

The Intelligent Edge

2008-07-13T19:52:00.000-07:00

I am nuts about yoga.

Since the beginning of last year, I have taken a yoga class at 7:30 a.m. almost every single Saturday morning. Now, to some, once a week might not be much, but I'm a mom, I'm super busy, and I get what I get. On Saturdays, what I do is wake up before everyone else in my house and quietly run out the door to my class. This year I have added a Wednesday morning class, as well as some brief and sporadic home practice (generally the kids begin to climb on me or exhort me to try postures they make up) and some meditation before I go to sleep.

The teacher I started with on Saturday mornings, Jenny D., is a wise guru trapped in a hot blonde, surfer girl body. Her class is very challenging, and she has the most amazing things to say about how yoga can help you live your life better. She says things like, "Yoga is about breathing into uncomfortable positions, both on and off the mat." "Everyone who can do X (a handstand, an arm balance, etc.) used to not be able to do it." and "The sign of an advanced yogi is that he/she can fall and get back up, all with a smile."

In yoga they talk about finding something they call the "intelligent edge." That's the place where you are just a teensy bit beyond comfortable, but not yet causing damage to yourself. In yoga and in life, the goal is to be present and aware, and then to attempt things with an eye on playing around with our limits.

Tight hamstrings? Tension in the shoulders? There are postures for these, and more, in yoga. You start where you are, and you push into your intelligent edge, a little bit each time. You don't have to "do" it the way your neighbor in class does, you just try. And it's amazing how all of that trying adds up. One day I absolutely SHOCKED myself when I tried to do a headstand, all the while thinking to myself, "there's just no way!". Lo and behold, that was the day that all of that trying accumulated into doing. My core muscles engaged, my feet FLEW up, and before I could say, "there's just no way!" one more time, I was flipping over! After which, of course, I smiled and tried again.

But the reason why I'm crazy about yoga is not what it's done for my body but rather what it has done for my mind and my ability to cope with my life's challenges. It's all the same: try it, find the place where it starts to feel challenging, and breathe into it. Watch what happens. Breathe some more.

Difficult relatives? Smile. Try. Breathe into it.

Defiant toddler? Breathe some more. Sit down on the floor at eye level. Try.

Torrential hail storm destroy the back window on your minivan? Stay present. Breathe. Try.

For every moment that you experience as not going your way, it's all the same: Keep breathing. Try. Forgive yourself. Smile. Try again. It is lighter than you think. It all passes.

I'm Not Sleep Deprived!

2008-06-11T22:22:00.001-07:00

How much sleep do I really need? Apparently, not so much, according to this article

Daniel Kripke, co-director of research at the Scripps Clinic Sleep Center in La Jolla, CA, compared the death rates among over 1 million American adults.

How much sleep is ideal? (drum roll, please!)...

folks who sleep between 6.5 and 7.5 hours per night live the longest. Which is good news for me, since that's about how many zzzz's I get in an average night, and since I plan to live to be 100.

All this time with my kiddos, I've been so worried about not getting enough sleep. It turns out I'm paving the way for longevity.

I Miss My Blog

2008-05-12T20:47:00.000-07:00

I am so freakin' busy.

I got sick last week, either a GI bug or food poisoning.

I'm the costume mom for my big kid's dance performance.

My two college student part-time nannies have been too busy with school to help much.

We're thinking about remodeling our house, so we have been spending a ton of time talking to contractors and architects. Exciting, yes.

My baby girl went to school last week, for three hours!

I wrote a new song that I love.

I had an AWESOME Mother's Day! I got a new ring

That's all for today. Stay tuned, devoted readers!

The Bear Suit

2008-04-28T10:15:00.000-07:00

Oh sure, sometimes it was fun at birthday parties and family gatherings. Inevitably, someone would nudge Nella on the arm, and say, "Hey, why don't you go put on the bear suit!" This had been going on for as long as Nella could remember, and before that, even. After several promptings, she would go and dig into the dark corner of the hall closet, behind the coats and the grey suitcases, until her hand felt the familiar dark brown fur. First she'd push her feet into the bottom paws, then she'd slip her arms into the sleeves and pull the shoulders up over her own before reaching down for the long zipper. The head piece was always a little tricky, and when she was very young, she'd need help hoisting it up, but after awhile she became inured and it was quite automatic.

Nella would walk out into the living room, or out onto the back porch--wherever the family was gathered. She'd raise up her arms inside the furry claws, and she'd raise her knees to make her steps larger. Then the game would begin. Nella would say something quite ordinary, like, for example, "I'd like a cup of lemonade," or "Could I trouble you to pick me up today after school?" and her entire family would do their best imitation of horror. They'd open their mouths wide, gasping, and either run or make a mock screaming sound. After a minute or two, they'd all break out into laughter, after which they'd ask her to do it again.

Nella could not even remember where the bear suit came from. She vaguely recalled that it had belonged to someone in her father's family. She couldn't even say why it was she who was always asked to put it on. That's just the way it had always been, and Nella knew that her being a good sport was part of the game. One day, as her family once again prepared for a celebration, while the food was cooking and Nella set the table, just as the excited murmurs that always preceded such gatherings began to mount, Nella felt the strangest sensation in her chest. It was a tightness, accompanied by the cold, dry feeling she got in her trachea when she sucked on a Wintergreen Life Saver. The step of her heartbeat felt a little stronger. She felt just a twinge of nausea.

For several moments, she just busied herself with preparations and tuned out these feelings, until the tightness also moved behind her neck and into the tops of her shoulders. After she finished placing all of the flatware, Nella went to get a drink of cold water and sat down. She began to think, with dread, about the bear suit: it never truly fit. It was hot. Without even having it on, she remembered the sweaty rivulets she always felt tickling down her back, even on a cool day. She would always have to juggle the bear's head atop her own, tilting one way and then another so the bear's eye holes and her own would align and she could see where she was walking. Her sight was so obscured that even when she could hear the muffled peals of her family's laughter, she couldn't really understand what all the fun was about. And the zipper stuck, so when she was ready to remove the suit and rejoin the festivities, there were always several minutes of struggle.

Right there, Nella decided: she would not put on the bear suit today. Her voice echoed inside her head, as her breath quickened.

For the Love of God

2008-04-24T11:02:00.000-07:00

I just got an e-mail from Eli Pariser, of MoveOn.org. I had to go and eat a cupcake afterward because it made me feel so confused and cranky. Here's what Eli asked of me:

"Right-wing pastor John Hagee says Katrina was New Orleans' fault. John McCain sought out, and embraces, Hagee's support. MoveOn members are trying to deliver a petition to McCain in New Orleans just a few hours from now: will you sign?"

No Eli, I won't sign. I don't know about you, but I am getting so sick of all of this business about presidential candidates' pastors and preachers. Who cares?

For the record:

I do not care that Barak Obama's pastor said a bunch of inflammatory things about being black in America, nor that Michelle Obama said that she has only very recently been proud to be an American.
I do not care that John McCain's pastor said that the people of New Orleans were being punished by God.

Could we please get back to talking about the economy, the crappy public schools, health care, and how we're going to straighten out the mess we've made in Iraq? Please?

I thought that you had to be a U.S. citizen over the age of 35 to be a presidential candidate. I never knew that the following were also required:

You must never, ever have made a judgment about someone or used a stereotype.
You must not know or associate with anyone who has judged or used a stereotype.
You must never have said something stupid, nor known anyone who has said something stupid.
You can't go to a church if people there believe or say stupid things or even just things that some other people disagree with.

Hello! We are human beings, and we live on the planet Earth. If we have to find someone who meets these criteria, we will never have qualified candidates for the job. And it's already a hard enough job as it is.

Hello! Religious leaders aren't politicians! Their job is to deal with issues concerning life, death, and morality. And so they make statements about how people should live, about "right" and "wrong," about how our behavior relates to God. That's what people look to them for. They're not trying to make friends, they're trying to make determinations about how to live. Inevitably, such determinations will upset people. If you don't like what they say, if it's stupid, if you disagree, that's OK. You can leave their church, or not invite them to dinner, or not. Their stupidity doesn't make you stupid, too.

One of the things I like about John McCain is that he can work with people with whom he does not agree. That's something the American people should encourage and demand from their leaders.

One of the things I like about Barak Obama is that he can stand with a foot on each side of the vast chasm that is Race in America.

One of the things I like about America is that we can handle the tension of complexity when it comes to living amidst people who are not like us. We're the Melting Pot--we do it better than anyone in the world. That ability is our greatest asset, and it needs to be our chief export. We need leaders with demonstrated proficiency in this trait.

I Hate Cats

2008-04-22T20:42:00.000-07:00

Well, just one cat, really. He belongs to my neighbor. I met him last week, on my big kid's birthday, just as I was frosting cupcakes. I heard a big scuffle out on the porch, where our mailbox is, inside of which was a nest full of baby birds. For the past three years, the birds (at least I assume they're the same birds) have built a nest in our box.

The first year, we put up a big sign on the mailbox, warning folks that there was a nest inside. We also put a big box on the porch so the mail carrier could use it instead of our mailbox for awhile. All of this was very exciting, as well as educational, for my big kid. The problem that first year was that the sign on the mailbox was too exciting. People would read the sign and the next thing we knew, they'd feel compelled to look inside the box. A few people almost got whapped in the face by the startled bird as she flew out. But after the babies came, the peeking in was too much for the mama. She abandoned her babies and they all died. That was not exciting, yet it was educational for Big Kid, when we had to bury the nest and babies.

The second year was our most successful yet. The second sign said "STOP!" at the top, followed by some warning language. This sign was more effective than the first, as was my story of woe about what happened the previous year. The babies hatched and we got to enjoy their little chirps and watch the big birds care for them until they learned to fly. One day, imperceptibly, one of the babies flew into our house! He/she was so tiny I probably would never have noticed, only I heard the "cheep! cheep!" and it was louder than normal, so I followed it until I discovered it was coming from under a desk in the living room. Big Kid and I carefully opened the door, and away the bird went.

This year, at the first sign of construction, we put up the sign and put out the box. Over the next month, the birds came and went. For awhile I wouldn't see or hear them, and I wondered if this was one of several potential nests--like a construction contractor who takes on a new job and then doesn't come back for several weeks because he has other projects to work on. But lo! The other day we heard the "cheep! cheep!" in the box, and we saw the big birds coming and going.

So anyway, on Big Kid's birthday, I heard a ton of noise out there, and it took awhile to register because I was so distracted with the festivities. When I finally went out to look, I saw a scrawny orange cat, wearing a collar, who was involved in an altercation with the birds. Two big birds flew around screaming at him. A squirrel on a nearby tree joined in the hollering. As I looked out my front window, the cat darted back toward the house, picked up a bird in his mouth, and skulked away. I ran for the broom, thinking I could scare the cat and free the bird, but I was too slow.

So then I put a post on my street's listserv, asking if any of the neighbors owned the cat and could possibly do something to help keep him away from the babies. A day or so later, after a couple of other sympathetic responses, the cat's owner posted. He gave me a condescending lecture about how cat kill birds, but that he didn't blame the cat. He told me that I should not let birds set up a nest in my mailbox, for the sake of both the birds and the mailman. (He didn't even say "mail carrier," he said "mailman," despite the fact that sometimes the "mailman" is a woman." grrrrr...).

I wanted to write back so many things to my neighbor, but I didn't. I thought of everyone else on the list who just didn't need to be involved in my ire. Instead, I said, "I will give that some thought." This is my standard response when someone is saying something to me which a) I think is completely retarded, b) I intend to ignore, and/or c) I would be wasting my breath to give an honest answer to.

So now the birds are gone. My friend Cynthia thinks the big birds came and moved the babies away, and my husband thinks they learned to fly well enough to get to safety. In any case, I have Empty Nest Syndrome. Happy Trails, birdies!

Duct Tape

2008-04-21T20:04:00.000-07:00

From the corner, behind the couch,
crouching, I watched you work.
First, you scrubbed the stainless steel surfaces
with a nonabrasive cleanser
and a blue toothbrush
taking care to sweep up any loose particles
with an antibacterial sponge
as you went.
Then, you carefully vacuumed
the floor, the baseboards, the door frames,
and the cobwebs in the places where
the cobwebs would take up residence if
they stood even half a chance.
I noticed you used almost all of the attachments
including the one for crevices
and the two with bristles.
Back and forth, back and forth,
before you turned the hose back on itself,
inhaling all over the attachments themselves,
cleaning the cleaner,
so that no lint, crumbs or dog hair remained.
Then the mop, slipping around to and fro
sending strong, fragrant wafts throughout the room
and the rest of the house
as it made the surface below your feet gleam.
Finally, you double checked your lists,
your schedule,
and your voice mail,
lining up ducks, nudging the ducks constantly,
keeping so many things balanced just so,
kids and husband,
groceries and errands,
things to pick up, prepare or put away, arrange or discard.
It was only then, at the very end,
as you were balancing the phone
between your shoulder and ear,
that I saw the tiny protruding corner,
grey and not quite shiny:
duct tape.
sticking out from underneath the top edge of your bra
Imperceptible, almost.
Hidden from the world,
beneath the thoughtfully selected blouse,
between the underthings,
and the skin, bone and muscle
that enclose your heart.
not at all attractive, not intended to be seen,
not something you'd show anyone,
and so, presumably, absolutely necessary.
I watched you take a second,
only one,
to breathe
before you grabbed your keys, purse, cell phone
and some snacks for the kids
and ran out the door.

Longing and Self-Doubt

2008-04-20T19:31:00.000-07:00

In January, on our last night in Colorado, my mom and I caught Daniel Day Lewis' Screen Actors Guild Award acceptance speech. Lewis made headlines for dedicating his Best Actor award to his fellow actor, the late Heath Ledger, and that was, of course, great. But that wasn't my favorite part.

The part that got my attention was the intro to his tribute to Ledger, where he said,

"...for as long as I can remember, the thing that gave me a sense of wonderment, of renewal, the thing that teased me with a question, 'how is such a thing possible?' and then 'dare you go back into the arena one more time?'--with longing and self-doubt jostling in the balance--it's always been the work of other actors..."

Longing and self doubt? Daniel Day Lewis? The famous, handsome, talented, successful, acclaimed Daniel Day Lewis? Who was he kidding? This admission was such a gift to me. Because if Daniel Day Lewis feels longing and self doubt when he begins a new project, then maybe there really is hope for me.

I thought of Lewis today when I got together with my friend Terri to write. She is a new friend, and this was our first time to try to work together. I think Terri is really cool, and I wanted to make it a productive time for both of us. So I jumped in with both feet, and we accomplished a lot. Even if we didn't finish anything, we made some good headway on two ideas. And we got to learn about each others' thought processes, which was fun and inspiring. But you know who else came to the session? Longing and self-doubt. I even had to calm myself down a bit afterward, because I have such yucky critical voices that come out when I'm writing, when I have the idea but I just can't find the right way to say it, when it's not happening quickly enough, when my best effort just isn't coming together. I want to be so great, and I'm just not there (yet?).

I need to be patient. I need to stay in the tension of the effort. Wait for the ideas to grow a bit on their own. Stay at it, slow and steady, until the quiet voice inside gives me the song. Trust the mystery of creativity. Allow myself to be teased with the question, 'how is such a thing possible?'

So DDL, since I know you're a faithful reader of my blog, thanks for sharing that business about the longing and self doubt! If you can walk through those feelings, and live to tell the world, it gives me courage to try, too. I'm working on my next crop of songs, and I'm going to think of you each time I walk into that space of wonder. I promise I'll let you know what I find there.

My New Persona

2008-04-16T19:33:00.000-07:00

OK, I'm exhausted. This whole week of planning my big kid's birthday party has worn me down to a frazzle. So tonight, devoted blog readers, you get ONLY 15 minutes. And don't even try to start crying when that runs out. It will get you nowhere.

David Hooper, a guy I like to read, sent out a list of "Top 10 Mistakes Bands and Musicians Make." Who doesn't love Top 10 lists?

Here's the one that really cracked me up: Mistake #5, "Laying Everything On the Table"

You're a rockstar. Keep that fantasy. Don't tell people how broke you are, that you're still living with your mother, or anything else that breaks the image of you fans have in their minds.

One of the reasons people like music is because they have the opportunity to live vicariously through the people they are listening to. When you are on stage, they're up there with you. When you're on the road in your tour bus, they're riding shotgun. Don't take that away.

Give them insight into your life and what it's like in your world. However, be selective with the details. Always remember, you're selling music, but you're also selling a persona.

Oops!

What the hell am I supposed to do with that one? Not let anyone know that I have two kids, that I spend a lot of time folding laundry, that I have virtually hundreds of CDs in my closet that I have no compunction about begging folks to buy? Although if Hooper says it, it must be true, so I've decided to create a new persona for myself. Instead of the sleep-deprived mom, I'm going to go for a more classic rock star path, the road-worn drug addict.

Help me out, willya?

Anyone wondering why I don't play out much around town? It's because I've been in rehab.

Want to know why I haven't gotten the attention I deserve from the industry? It's because my personal recklessness has made me too risky for the pros to deal with.

If anyone needs a reason to tell all of their friends about me and why I'm deserve a cult following, just pass on the lore about my wild side, the glam parties, the debauchery, the lengthy binges. It wouldn't be stretching the truth too much to talk about my house being trashed (don't mention the toys and Cheerios, of course), the high drama environment (spilt sippy cups and all), all-nighters (did someone say "breastmilk"?!!), and too much time on the road. It's all me. Forget about attachment parenting, trying to sneak pureed veggies into my kids' food, and spending an entire year shopping for the right Kindergarten--please just make up something negligent involving my kids, like dangling them over a balcony rail or driving around with no car seats. Better yet, say that I have four nannies and haven't even seen my kids since they were born. The fans LOVE that stuff!

Then, please send anyone you can find to CDBaby to buy my CD. Rehab's expensive!

Five

2008-04-15T19:16:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is my big kid's 5th birthday. Ever since I was pregnant with him, people--strangers, acquaintances, relatives, friends--have told me how quickly children grow up. They say things like, "Savor every moment!" Well, there have been a lot of moments in five years, and I sure didn't savor every one of them. But I know I have done my absolute best to be present, engaged, and responsive as much as I possibly could.

All at once, it both feels like every bit of five years have gone by (maybe even longer?), and like all of sudden, my baby is a big kid. Of course it wasn't sudden. Of course I somehow survived and managed through each stage of his infancy, toddlerhood, and preschooler-ness. There are moments when motherhood feels like it is sucking the very marrow out of my being. I have, somehow, endured the powerful tension of allowing my identity to be consumed, for a time, by my small child. I have sacrificed income and some amount of external reward. I have read enough about child development over the past five years to have earned at least the equivalent of a Master's degree, and yet I'm not checking my mailbox for a diploma, because there won't be one. I have sought out experts and amateurs alike who offered me support for the very labor intensive brand of parenting to which I have been called. And as I result, I have learned to let roll off my back, like a duck, the comments of people who "compliment" me on my "patience" in a way that smacks of criticism. I have waited out the rough stages of my son's development, holding my tongue much of the time--instead, watching and listening for clues as to what he might possibly be trying to tell me with his sometimes infuriating behavior, and searching for the right moment to attempt to influence him.

And now, it feels like a storm has passed. I see glimpses of a big kid--a kid who can, at least for short spells, delay gratification, who can at least approximate empathy, who can be thoughtful and helpful. I see a child who described to me, after a half-day solo visit to a potential Kindergarten, what it felt like to almost start to cry when the reality of my absence first set in: "It started in my stomach and went up into my throat...I just kept it inside." This one comment, to me, was the blossom of my endless efforts to teach him to name and feel his feelings, something that is my biggest goal as a parent and, I believe, the cornerstone of his future as a person who can flow with life's challenges.

But the moments that really thrill me are those in which I see a child whose face absolutely lights up with joy. Mind you, he may be lighting up about saying, "Bot-tom, bot-tom, bot-tom!!" in a loud voice--he's five, after all--but still. When parents say, "but it's all worth it," they're talking about those kinds of moments. I see my big kid laughing, or being inquisitive, or trying to figure something out--in essence, being as robust and engaged in life as I have endeavored to be with him--and I allow myself an inner celebratory "Woo Hoo!" As if some of my words and gestures have actually sunk in. In which case all of the hassle and sacrifice has truly been worth it.

His turning five is whetting my appetite for a chance to regain some things for myself: to be the mom who sits and reads a book while her kids swim at the pool; to be like my neighbor who has a few girlfriends over for wine and chatter in the evening; to see my kids become more and more self-sufficient and less like tiny cyclones who scatter toys and books in their wake. When I allow myself to look forward to those days, I realize how much I have really surrendered to these ones. Who knew? In my own way, I suppose, I have savored every moment.

Ten Alternatives to Road Rage

2008-04-09T21:20:00.001-07:00

As a mom of two, with a minivan, I spend quite a bit of time on the road. I have developed some techniques for managing the boredom and irritation that can sometimes come with driving. Most of these tips will help you when you're sitting in traffic, waiting at a light, or parked for a brief time, for example, if you work part-time for your husband and part of your job is going to the bank a lot.

Don't be like those nutsies you read about in the newspaper, who lose their top while in the car! These tips will help you stay calm, fit and well groomed.

Things To Do During a Brief Stop (traffic light)
1. Read a book! I always take a book with me, and if I have to sit a bit, I read a paragraph or so. Then, when it's time to take my foot off the brake and begin moving again, I think about what I read. "Hmmmmm.... that's so interesting/funny/poignant!"

2. Pluck your eyebrows! The natural light of my minivan is SO much better than in my bathroom at home, and whenever I pull down the visor mirror, I see so many more little stragglies. So hey, be efficient on the road, and just whip out the tweezers! I have had to experiment with places to put the tweezers when they are not in use, however, so as to keep them away from the curious toddler. And if you attempt this one in your own vehicle, you have to pull up to just the right spot so the folks in the cars next to you don't see you. Unless you don't mind them seeing you, of course. In which case, you should just go for it!

3. Make a list! Groceries to buy, errands to run, phone calls to return, bills to pay, old friends to "Google."

4. Kegels! I don't care who you are, young or old, male or female, you can benefit from having a well-toned pelvic floor. If you're waiting at a light, do the slower, sustained variety.

5. Take some deep breaths. Check in with your body. Identify areas of tension and try to relax them. If you're at a light, keep your eyes open. If you're in line at the bank drive-through, you can close your eyes until the teller says "Have a nice day!" through the intercom.

Things To Do While Moving:
6. Listen to the radio! It's your choice--music, Terri Gross, right wing talk radio (my personal fave--don't ask, I can't explain it).

7. More Kegels! If you're zooming along on the road, try the quicker, pulsing ones. This is particularly effective if you're actually getting upset while driving. You'll distract yourself! I absolutely defy you to try to flip the rod at someone while you're doing Kegels.

8. Try to remember what it was like to be 16 years old and learning to drive. The thrills! The excitement! The absolute oblivion to the irritation of sitting in traffic. Try to re-capture what it was like to just marvel at how wonderful it was to drive at all!

9. Be patient! Practice being a nice guy on the road. Remember that being behind the wheel of a car doesn't change the fact that drivers are human--they get confused, lost, don't know where their turn is, they pull out too far in to the intersection, they underestimate how much space they need to turn around. Try taking the high road and being kind.

10. If you get really irked, make up a song about it. Sing it to the other drivers.

Hope and Expectation

2008-04-08T19:50:00.000-07:00

Here I am again! I am answering the call of my Inner Nudge, who is urging me to start up a more disciplined writing practice. Plus, my friends Donna Rich and Spike Gillespie have challenged me to write 15 minutes a day on this blog. I imagine these posts will be a bit disjointed for awhile, until I get my creative juices flowing (and/or small children aren't interrupting me as I write!).

Let's go!

I've had a lot of great stuff going on lately. First of all, it's Spring! And of course I can always go on and on about my beautiful kiddos, who inspire, amuse, confound, and challenge me daily. I've made a new songwriter friend, Terri Fann . I'm really seeing some results from my efforts to get more organized and de-cluttered in my office, after months and months of chipping away. I've been getting in more time to practice guitar and piano. And, on a quite superficial note, I have a new flat iron which allows me to super-hyper-shine and silkify my hair! Woo hoo! Isn't being a girl great? :)

So that's some of that. But isn't it funny how my mind just cogitates on discomfort instead of all of the goodness?

One thing that's been stuck in my craw over the past couple of days is about what it's like to try to be present--attentive, listening, willing, open--around people who are not. Keep in mind these are not folks I have a choice about spending time with. And also this question: when I hope that these absentees will somehow or someday "get me", is that just my ego talking? I asked my friend Cynthia, and she said, "yes, that's your ego wanting things to be different." But another friend made a distinction between "hope" and "expectation," and said that when we expect, yes, that's our ego, but hope is something different.

Now, here's some definitions of the word "hope".
Many of them actually contain the word "expectation," so that's not very helpful. I think this one is my favorite: "the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best."

For "expectation," I like: "the feeling that something is about to happen."

Here's the deal: I think we're all wired up to connect with one another, and when we're spending time with someone, we orient ourselves in relation to the feelings invoked by these attempts. We can either be very earnest and open, or aloof and distant, or light and humorous--there are so many different ways to be. The people who make me feel good are ones who, somehow, are open to a moment of connection, who seem to "get" me, or receive what I bring to the table. When I "hope" that one of these moments will occur, it means that on my end of the relationship, I have a certain amount of openness. Which is a good thing. But there are times, with certain people, when being open is disorienting and painful because of the energy it takes, the level of vulnerability, and the disappointment I go through when "it" doesn't happen.

What I am working on these days is to just be open because I'm an open person, to not close myself down because I'm not getting one of those wonderful connecting moments with someone. I have been ruminating on the ways in which I can psychically "walk out" on myself, and trying instead to stay connected with myself even if it's not really happening with the other person. If I stay present and connected with who I believe I came to the planet Earth to be, then there is hope in that. When I wish so hard for "the moment" that that it hurts a little bit, well, then I think I've moved into having a very specific picture I'm trying to fit the other person into, which is not what I want to do.

How To Accept Help

2008-04-07T11:38:00.000-07:00

I wrote this for my sister:

Take a deep breath.

Acknowledge that things are a little rough, shaky, and/or exhausting right now.

Imagine how nice it would be to have help. Help is so helpful!

Take another deep breath.

Identify and brainstorm about the toughest moments of your day or week. Write them down if you can find something to write with/on.

Imagine very specific things that would help you—examples:

“It would help me to have somebody to tell how hard it is right now; or to tell the one good thing that gave me hope in a really hard day/week; or someone to help me lighten up; or someone to please, please, please not tell me to lighten up.”

Or very specific things that you could hand off—examples:

“I need someone to help me with housework, yardwork, cooking, groceries, paying my bills, getting organized, going to yoga, having time to play with my kid, playing with my kid for me so I can drink a glass of wine and stare into space.”

Imagine that people, even people you’ve never set eyes on before, want to help you. Imagine that!

Take another deep breath.

Put your request out the world…use e-mail, phone, fax, carrier pigeon, sidewalk chalk.

Behold what comes back to you, which never would have, if you hadn’t taken all of those breaths and JUST ASKED!

Take another breath.

RELAX for awhile.

Profusely thank everyone.

Find someone else to help!

My Open Letter to Dr. Laura

2006-03-01T07:28:00.000-08:00

NOTE: I love listening to Dr. Laura Schlesinger. She's entertaining, and she makes me think. Sometimes she's sweet, sometimes she's shockingly judgmental and abrasive. She stands up for motherhood, and all moms need more of that, even if Dr. Laura has some pretty strict rules about what good moms do.

But one thing that's been bothering me for awhile is the way she slams feminists. Because it has occurred to me that she is, um, a feminist. And if you ask me, she's both ungrateful and a little hypocritical.

So I wrote her a letter. Her website only allows 3000 characters, so I had to keep it as brief as I could (I actually had a lot more to say). I don't expect her to respond, and she hasn't. I think I raised some good questions.

********************************************************

Dear Dr. Laura,

I have been a listener of your radio show for a decade or more. I am grateful for the insight you provide about family life, I admire your advocacy for children. For example, the other day, you spoke glowingly about the benefits of breastfeeding, and it warmed my heart, since breastfeeding mothers are often under attack in American society. Thank you very much for doing that.

I hope it's okay to say that I don't always agree with you. Sometimes I have a hard time seeing myself in your generalizations. My husband doesn't fit your stereotypes about men. I am devoted to my family, yet I think of myself as a feminist, although one who doesn't behave the way the feminists you describe do.

In fact, sometimes it seems like even YOU don't even fit your own stereotypes about women. It's funny, because I think of you as a feminist!

I know you don't think much of feminists, but did you have any idea that if there had never been a feminist, you would be known as "Mrs. Laura," not "Dr. Laura," since feminists paved the way for women to pursue higher education? Before the feminist movement of the late 19th century, leading physicians promoted the idea that advanced study would siphon valuable blood away from the reproductive organs and toward the brain, rendering women sterile. Without the women pioneers who were the "firsts" at leading universities and in fields traditionally limited to men (especially scientific areas such as Physiology), such views would prevail today.

Did you know that without feminists, there wouldn't be any coeducational institutions, and you wouldn't be able to tout your Ph.D. from Columbia University?

Did you know that without feminists, you wouldn't be able to get a bank account in your own name, own property, or publish a book? Did you know that you'd have a hard time getting your own radio show because the proper place for a woman was in the home, not influencing public opinion?

I know you said not to bother writing if I don't agree with your views about feminists. But I had to. I've been wanting to ask you these questions for years. It seems like you have exploited the gains of feminists, yet your appeal to your listeners rests largely on criticizing them.

I call myself a feminist, but I'm not like the feminists of the 1960s. I don't hate men. Although I work for my husband now, I have stayed at home with my child, and I am a very devoted mother. I truly respect the right of every woman to attempt to strike the right balance between doing right by her family and pursuing work that's meaningful. Finding that balance is HARD, especially if you've worked to develop yourself prior to having children. You make it sound so easy, as if just vilifying the women who have attempted to try a new way will make the tension go away. But it doesn't.

I'm out of space. Thanks again for the work you do to honor and dignify mothers. Keep it up!

Sincerely,
Tricia

On Accepting My Family Members The Way They Are

2005-12-22T21:32:00.000-08:00

It's the holiday season....

So that means it's time to get together with friends and relatives, go to parties and work get-togethers, and plan how we're going to spend those special days.

I've been thinking a lot about these rituals, as I prepare to spend part of Christmas Eve with my in-laws and most of Christmas Day with my family. I always try to reflect upon what the season means, I mean, aside from running around and shopping.

I spent seven years living away from my family, and now we're all in the same town again. I'm getting a crash course in what being a family member means. Ideally, families accept and support us no matter what. They provide company and friendship and a sense of where we come from. Ideally. Now, I don't know how your family is, but mine doesn't always meet my ideals.

For me, the birth of Christ represents a wellspring of hope into the world. This year, I am celebrating that hope by working on accepting others. That means accepting every single member of the bouquet of humanity, as I would like to be accepted.

It's no picnic, accepting others. Some people are quirky. Or abrasive. Or messy. Or absolutely lacking in empathy. Or really self-absorbed. Some are just plain clueless. One of my family members, who shall remain nameless, seems to need to have the TV turned up very loud to get through a social gathering, even for just a few hours. Another, also anonymous, is absolutely lovely and a joy to be around, provided that she's getting her way. After that, all bets are off. She becomes snippy, short-tempered, and brittle. And it's always someone else's fault!

All of these special qualities in my family members tend to make me have feelings in response, and they aren't generally comfortable or enjoyable feelings. I find myself wishing they'd change, fantasizing some more perfect family gathering that would result from their transformation.

But this year, I'm trying to avoid spending my time wishing these traits away.

Because I think it distracts me from being present. This year, I'm working on beholding my family in a spirit of gratitude and acceptance, treasuring each encounter just the way it is.

I'm working on giving and accepting love. Giving love even though someone else may have done something or been some way that means they don't deserve my love. Accepting love even if it doesn't feel just the way I hoped it would.

The tricky part is that some of these folks can really offend me, and I don't think being accepting means being a doormat. So it's a fine line to balance, accepting someone just how they are because it's probably the best they know, and also speaking up for myself, firmly, when my gut tells me I need to.

Lately, I've taken to wearing what I call an Invisible Teflon Shield. You can't see it, but it's silver, and I activate it with a switch above my head. And I also think a lot about the general health of my spirit in any given moment, and try to remain inspired no matter what goes on outside. I have an internal dialogue when someone irks me, and it goes something like this: "OK, so that happened. What does that really have to do with me?"

I've also been thinking about the 23rd Psalm, the part that says, "He prepares a table before me in the presence of my enemies." It may be shocking to think about family members as being enemies, but in a spiritual sense, they really can be. The way certain family members wield disapproval and judgment is truly a form of violence. That passage reminds me that God will continue to bless me even if every single person doesn't agree with or approve of me. Remembering that makes it easier to let go, to let others be nasty if that's the path they choose to walk. What does it have to do with me? I don't need them to change to know who I am and to walk my own path with confidence.

Finally, as I approach the big weekend, I remind myself that it will all be over in a few days. We'll come together, there will be a bunch of moments, some warm and fuzzy, others cold and bristly. Each person will most likely do what each person tends to do. We may all get surprised by something. The experience either will or won't live up to our expectations of how a family holiday should be. My plan is to just keep breathing in and out.

Then we'll all go back to our respective lives.

In a way, the holidays are annoying, because they're a disruption to the normal routine, and they're a lot of extra effort. They can be truly overwhelming if you're not up for it. But this year, I've really enjoyed the extra effort. I am excited about giving gifts. I attended a Christmas party that felt like Old Home Week, where I saw about a dozen friends I hadn't seen in almost a decade, most of whom didn't know I was even back in town. And I'm so looking forward to watching my kid open the gifts Santa has brought him because he's been so good! Today someone asked me how I was doing and I said, "I'm riding the wave." The wave, of course, being the holiday surge of energy. We have a few more days left until we reach a fevered pitch and then the wave will pass for another year.

God bless everyone!

Attitude of Gratitude, Part I

2005-12-21T20:43:00.000-08:00

I love this time of year.

(Except last year, when I was fried and exhausted from moving across the country with a husband, toddler and two dogs. And still fuming about Diggins and Rose Inc., www.digginsrose.com, an agent of United Van Lines, who "lost" five boxes of our stuff. Last year I was in touch with my Inner Scrooge).

But not this year. I'm back to my old self, looking back on 2005 and looking forward to the future.

I had a great year!

So here's some things and folks I'm grateful for:

-my husband, for supporting my music-making.

-my son, who got better at sleeping late at night, which enabled me to practice

-Tree Tops Learning Center and Alyssa Heegel, who care for my kid when I need to get some work done.

-my family, some of whom are sure to make it to every show I play.

-my girlfriends, especially Donna Rich, Lynda Taylor, and Cynthia Wells, who cheer in all the right places.

-the AustinMama listserv. www.austinmama.com

-my pal Colin Boyd, www.colinboyd.com, who has always been a great champion of me and my songs, and who convinced me to start working on my first solo CD. I call him "a fairy godmother in a scruffy, straight guy package." Everyone should be so lucky as to have a Colin Boyd in their life.

-my teachers, especially my current voice teacher, Liz Cass, and my current guitar teacher, Tony Redman, as well as former teachers like Danny Barnes, www.dannybarnes.com, Mady Kaye, www.madykaye.com, and Ruth Morton.

-SXSW, www.sxsw.com, for giving me a showcase.

-my band at SXSW, who rocked the house.

-the Toups and Ostdieks in Houston, who hosted a house concert that funded the band who rocked the house at SXSW.

-Sara Hickman, www.sarahickman.com, for recording two of my songs for her next record.

-Jody Denberg at KGSR, www.kgsr.com, and John Aielli and Melanie Shrawder at KUT, www.kut.org, for putting me on the radio.

-Everyone who bought my CD and/or came to one of my shows.

-Bill at Millennia Guitars, www.millenniaguitars.com, for sending me two new guitars to play with.

-Courtney at www.bandfreaks.com, who wrote the most amazing review of my CD. (I know I'm not supposed to thank her, because she didn't do it to be nice...I'm just saying I have grateful feelings on the inside).
and last but not least,

-I am grateful to God, for giving me the courage to take baby steps toward my dream, and for helping open doors to walk through. Every time I get to perform, I feel like it's my birthday.