A Concert and A Spark of Hope

Some people grew with Taylor Swift others with the Beatles. I grew with Once.

I didn't realize it until I found myself sitting in Radio City Music Hall with tears filling my eyes. This music has been a part of my story in one way or another for 15 years.

It all began in college. I was in a musical and sitting around during rehearsal waiting to run some songs. My friend and castmate (who happened to have a huge crush on) popped an earbud in my ear and I heard the beautiful swelling sounds of the music from this movie. I would later watch the movie, and though I never dated that guy, I instantly fell in love with this movie and it's songs would play a major part in my life from that point on. Mostly then being played over and over again after a rejection or sad moment in my life. As most good songs are timeless, and will pop up over and over again.

Fast forward to living in New York. Though I auditioned constantly my friends at church that I spent the majority of my time with were not theater people. I had one theater friend for many years from my time living in Missouri. But interestingly the year David walked into my life he played such a significant part in my journey. He was a theater guy and the first one that I did not have a crush on. He went to see Once with me and watched me light up.

That experience would leave a mark on my life. The way they took the themes of the Indie film of hope and hopelessness and portrayed them was beautiful and touching. It was something only a stage musical could pull off. It would come back to me later as I grew and started to be come cynical. It took many years to start to realize the depths of the meaning behind this music.

I watched Glen perform with another friend from church at the King's Theater and ended up knowing the songs from Didn't He Ramble backwards and forwards like the songs from once.

My story in the theater world like Glen's character's story in Once was often characterized by large seasons of hopelessness. There was a spark of hope that hit me when I started seeing my roommate's voice teacher. At that point I was playing my guitar more. He was good at helping young actors figure out what type they were castable as and also what they wanted to do.  

At the time there were a lot of musicals on Broadway that were crossovers between the singer songwriter world. He said I fit into that world well. I told him about how I loved Once and he told me that I should go for the tour and any regional shows. So that's what we geared up to do. I learned 2 Once songs on the piano (and one on the guitar just for fun). I attended countless Once auditions and always felt a little out of place surrounded by real musicians trying to play the part of one. I didn't even know how to play the piano but I learned the songs. I even took a bus to Rochester to go to their local audition.

Well, I never made into the show.

But little did I know that trying to play the part of a songwriter I would fall in love with songwriting and realize I liked singing, writing, and performing my own songs far more than attempting to win the approval of casting directors.

Glen and Marketa ultimately helped me realize what I love more than anything in the world. Playing Marketa's beautiful piano melodies helped me to become attuned to music in a way I hadn't before as a singer. I was writing more than ever. I wrote with my friends. I wrote at church. I had caught the bug.

So tonight as I watched Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova invite the cast of Once from any version of the production onstage to sing with them, I was flooded with sudden emotion. I realized how much it had meant to me to get into that production. I wanted to leap up and join them but with a twinge of sadness I realized my dream of being in that cast would never come to pass.

As I walked home from the performance, undone again from live music, I remembered also how Glen had invited a young audience member who he had met busking in Boston- playing his song. That's when it hit me that my dreams are so much bigger now. That was the part of the show that I actually cried. I cried because I was totally happy for this person because they were actually doing it- they were pursuing music with a passion and they were being recognized for it. That's what I want for myself. I don't want to pretend to be a songwriter anymore.

Update One- Day 13

I finally finished the first two weeks of "the test." I'm going to sum it up below.

Good things: Energy in the afternoons instead of a slump like normal, no cravings for sugar or carbs, I feel great digestion-wise, and I've slimmed down a few sizes.  Also I've been eating creams and tons of cheese and haven't had any gastrointestinal issues like they normally cause, which makes me wonder if that's what was causing it or if it was the combination with processed foods, sugars, and carbs. 

Disappointments: I started this hoping to pinpoint the culprit or at least sort of cure my inflammation. Instead the inflammation appears to have gotten worse. I will say it took me almost the entire two weeks to get over the "Keto flu" detox and I still don't feel on top of the world like I was promised I would.  It was hard constantly thinking about and planning what I'm going to eat next.  I felt like a High School boy emptying the fridge just as soon as I stocked it. I had little time for anything besides shopping, cooking, and eating.  I wake up early in the morning (sometimes 4:45am) starving and feeling like my blood sugar has plummeted. One day I nearly fainted in the shower because I chose to shower before eating. It's frustrating because I can't run. Finally, the increase in dairy I believe is causing me to break out. (I truly have been binging on it because I normally don't eat it).

 I'm also a little concerned about reintroducing foods correctly. The diet plan we are on doesn't give us a ton of guidance beyond the first 4 days. I know myself to know I can quickly defeat the entire purpose of something like this by jumping back into my old habits.

I think because of that it's important for me to clarify my goals so that I know what I want to take away from this. I liked that I was paying attention to labels on things. I want to do that more often. If something has a lot of added sugars, maybe I don't need to be putting it into my body.  I don't want to be addicted to sugar.  More importantly, I want to be able to gauge how my body reacts to different levels of sugar and then discover. 

I'm also curious about changing the grains I'm eating to whole grains and lessening my intake of them. Can I find a new diet that incorporates the one I was just on?

Tomorrow is day one of introductions and he says to do legumes first so I've already bought the Cowboy beans from Trader Joes. I plan to heat them up for lunch with a large dose of sour cream and shredded cheese. I may add half an avocado for variety. I'll update on how it goes but I know for one thing: I'm ready to find a stable normal where my body finally relaxes!

Crying for No Reason

Perhaps it's because I'm in my first real long term relationship or perhaps it's because I'm adulting hardcore these days. It's still unclear to me exactly how I became so aware of how dramatically up and down my emotions are. In therapy I brought this up a bit and we explored a number of things. My latest therapist, the scientist seated behind the glasses and the analytical stare, always trying to figure me out but never revealing her own secrets- explained to me how hormones may be effecting my emotions. It came as a shock to me that women actually get emotional twice a month. It's normal. So I started to pay attention to when my meltdowns seemed to occur and, surprise surprise, it was when I was ovulating.  I felt jipped.  Like, how did it take me 33 years to discover this? Why wasn't it printed in large ink on our feminine products? Why weren't more women talking about this? Sure, you've got PMS but what's this other space about where you want babies, everything is sexual, and you're suddenly so sad you don't know what to do.

Yesterday, as I was lying on my bed and my boyfriend was holding me I just started crying for no reason. He gently snuggled me and said, "Why the cry?" I answered, "I don't know." I mean it was probably more like "I...d-d-d-on't know" stammered through sobs.

So here I am again thinking about these things called hormones and how wild it is that we have them. How interesting too that a week ago I began this Ketogenic cleanse. I've been thinking a lot about what I put into my body since I got sick with long COVID in 2020. Both balancing hormones and inflammation in your body all go back to diet. It's amazing how much we can actually help ourselves by simply eating healthier.

This has been a long road for me though.  I tried a few times to give up foods like sugar because everyone who had similar arthritis inflammation from COVID told me it worked wonders. But I'm so adaptable to my environment it was hard. I knew I needed a community doing it with me.  Simply put: when you live with roommates who bake and want to share, it's hard to give up sugar.

But my boyfriend suggested this two week test and as I read about it and realized that we'd be doing it together, it felt like a dream come true. It's not about eliminating sugar and carbs altogether. It's about detoxing your body from them so that you can slowly introduce less amounts into your system and see how your body reacts. It's the most doable and healthy thing in my mind. It's a reset.

One of the many reasons I'm attracted to him is his core value of health. He pushes me to be more healthy. We went through long COVID together and then got better together. He's a marathon runner so when I push myself running I know I'm not going to die because he's there going, "This is normal. Keep going."

It's not that I'm not a healthy person. It's that I never really thought of my body as being important before. My head was always in the clouds. The real world seemed like a distant reality.  My faith and spirituality was far more important to me than my physical body. But what I discovered was that A) a lot of insecurity was driving that dissociation I had with my body and B) Faith is embodied.  We can't be our whole selves: experience our emotions and be fully connected to God and others without being connected to our bodies.

I think the insecurity came when I hit puberty and didn't really go away until I was like 27. Before I turned 11 I did ballet and gymnastics and swam and I was obsessed with these things.  Suddenly fear and shame hit me like a tidal wave when I got my period. I no longer wanted my body to be seen. I felt awkward. I got away with not working out for many years too because I had a fast metabolism I guess. I was told to cover up and I was also simply afraid. I used to do backflips all the time. Suddenly I was afraid of falling on my head.

But I did Taekwondo when I was 27 and started running a few years back. I began the process of being embodied again. I started going to yoga and pilates classes. The best way I got reconnected to my body was this class called the Alexander Method. It was revolutionary for me. I remember leaving the class one day and just breaking down in tears. The release of my body released my emotions as well.

Diet. Exercise. Sleep. I think these are things that I learned from my experience with recovering from long COVID are game changers. I instantly knew when I was stressed because my arms or legs would start throbbing. Taking time out to rest and nap when I need to has changed my life. I'm the type of person who will push through any activity just to cross it off my to-do list quickly. I have found that this is more than often not the best method to maintaining my health.

So what is the point of this blog post?

I suppose I want this to be a sort of intro to a daily blog of sorts on my experience with this cleanse and exercising. I want my embodiment to have a memorial space for others to make the pilgrimage to as well. I am longing for my spirituality, my emotions, and my whole being to be unlocked through the transformation of my daily habits. I know that may sound like a hyperbolic thing to say. But I truly believe the more I pay attention to what's happening in my body- even just keeping track of my emotions, the food I'm consuming, and how I'm moving through my day- I think that will be helpful for me. So maybe it's a journal but maybe it's a space where we can discover our bodies again.

33 and up to me

33 and up to me.

Every birthday I come up with a catchy rhyme for my age and this was what I chose.

Gods been speaking to me a lot about my choices and perspective. Life is made up of a billion small choices that lead to large choices.

The reality is- I used to love blogging because I felt like I had these “prophetic swirls” where I reached this deep understanding and I used the blog to preach to others and solidify the idea in my mind.

I set out, at least my intention was to do that very thing with choice. This year will be a year where I will only do what I want to do and nothing else. I’ll finally make decisions that I’m happy with and not make decisions to please others or to play it safe.

But, in delaying this post, I think I’ve become more curious about even this decision to write this post. The very words I am contemplating seem to hang in midair.

I struggle with making choices because I’m afraid of making the wrong ones. 

In the book Compassion and Self Hate Dr. Theodore Rubin explores why this is in a chapter that should be labeled "mantras of the self compassionate."  This section was titled with the words: "I need, I want I choose" and begins so: "My needs must be taken with seriousness if I take myself seriously." 

He goes on to say, "I never abdicate the chance to tune in on myself and my needs in favor of glorious martyrdom or in futile gestures of self-destructive sacrifice...I refuse to blind myself to any desire, to feel less than or more than human about any desire, to allow any desire to be a source of embarrassment to me or to reject it." Essentially, he is asking the question, are you making a choice out of your own desire or because you think you want it because it further feeds self hatred?

He talks about his patients and how they will stop at nothing to avoid making a choice.  "Their last ditch effort is to get someone else to make a choice for them. They're trying to ward off self hate, because they know about self-hate following choices made in the past." I've experienced myself doing this so I can relate.

He is trying to connect these two ideas.  The things we want and fear to decide and how we delay those decisions because we think we will make a mistake.  

"It means that I find my presence and myself to be a nuisance, an intruder and a stranger on the scene and that my actions and inactions are designed to ignore or even to obliterate evidence of my presence." I never thought about it but it sort of makes sense.  If I am constantly denying my needs or desires in favor of others then I am saying that I don't matter.

I am attending a church that also wants to explore what's underneath our actions and words.  Our pastor asked a question about the motivations behind this prayer in the midst of difficulty: "God, what do you want me to learn." He said he realized he prayed it so that he can learn it and not suffer again. His desire was control rather than surrender.

I feel a parallel reality happening in my own thoughts. the same with this.  If I have to justify why I want to do something to myself and others, then I must not take my desires very seriously. If I constantly feel embarrassed about my feelings then I must not take myself and my humans very seriously.

Coming back to my mantra, I guess what I’m saying is I want to make choices without the intense anxiety every time. I want to say, “here’s what I’m doing because that's what I want!” And not feel like I’m totally failing each time. I’ve worked through this a bit in therapy but I need more than just coping mechanisms to change. I need a deep reassurance that what I do isn’t life or death. That in fact, so called mistakes, can create beauty.

I also want to recognize and memorialize the 10 years I’ve been in New York. I’ve made a lot of decisions. I’ve worked really hard to prove to myself that I am worthy to be in this city. I’ve spent a lot of years sowing my time into church ministries. I’ve lost myself and found myself again. I’ve been broken and restored. Every year I thank New York in some short and sweet way. But 10 years feels big and felt like I should dedicate some time to think about how I've grown since being here.

When I was in KC before I even came to the city someone loaned me a book called Art and Fear. I can’t remember if I shared anything that may have precipitated this gift. I do know I was struggling with “what is my calling?” since I had finished my BA in theatre and felt like I had totally failed at that. I always felt like I wasn’t finished with art. I had so many dreams of different types of shows that would involve the audience in some way.

I had joined a small group at my church for artists and we talked about why we were artists and I dreamed about ways I could practice my art and be in full time ministry. But full time ministry was not for me and God radically called me out of it and to go live in New York.

Living here was literally living out Art and Fear.  For years I pursued theater hardcore but couldn’t catch a break. I had made some incredible theatre friends though with the amazing people I met along the way at auditions, August Corps, and even at worship training school.

I’m grateful for the turning points-the crazy moment where in prayer I felt called to Rikers and the connections that led me there and how I met Jeff. How I realized I had two equally strong passions- singing/songwriting and acting and decided to pursue acting by enrolling in William Esper Studio. How I got sick and crazily was forced back into my singing songwriting world as the world shut down in 2020. (I also took a musical theatre bookwriting class!)  How I decided to make an album. How I began going to church at New Life Fellowship, which aided immensely in my trajectory of inner healing and being ok with being instead of constantly doing in the midst of fast paced NYC.

New York City you are a dream and also a place where I felt like my dreams died. I hid behind your towering spires hoping that just being here would somehow qualify me to participate in a meaningful artistic life. My sensitive heart was torn out often and I am still learning how to protect myself from the ruthlessness of the entertainment industry.

But...I haven't given up nor have my dreams died. I haven't forgotten my dramatic EGOT dreams.  I followed my tears here to this city and 10 years later they are watering new seeds.

Musings of my time at Holy Cross Monastery

 The first thing I noticed as the city pace wore off and the calm began to take root was the immediate awareness I had of my thoughts and feelings.  The slow breathing in and out. The simplicity of being.

The second thing I noticed was God's voice, so unlike my own, breaking into my many thoughts and feelings. Sometimes it was a simple sentence or phrase. Other times it was accompanied, as I've known many times in the past, by a picture.

Then there was the new rhythm. I woke with the sun just before 6:00am. The bell at 6:50 beckoned me to the Matins service.  5 times a day we sang(chanted?), prayed, and listened to the word read. (It reminded me of the 6am shift of my 24 hours a week in the prayer room when I was at IHOPU school of ministry).  The chanting song of the Psalms of the monks sank into my being long after service.

I had no expectations of what taking part in the liturgy would do to me but if I have learned anything from my 22 year walk with the Lord it's that changing my way of doing things often yields me to God's presence even more.  In one service, Colossians 3 was read and I felt like God was speaking right to me. After the service I poured over the text again as God reminded me of my own personal history in him and his love for me.

Finally, I noticed the smell of the burning incense and it reminded me of the prayers of the saints "The smoke of the incense, together with the prayers of God’s people, went up before God from the angel’s hand" (Revelation 8:4).  After a fitful evening of praying and feeling nothing I sat in the chapel and smelled the incense. I just sat and smelled it. Then, I began to let my imagination wander, and suddenly I was speaking to God as one does to a friend about my future and the next thing I knew I was declaring things over my future family-my husband and my children. 

I had asked God to meet me in a way I had met him many times before the night before. When it didn't happen I had resigned myself to being content with the simple beautiful things he taught me on this trip. Yet, when I just went to sit and smell the incense and think about the praise that had gone up from this place for so many years, that's when the God came with his mighty presence and shook my frame so that I did not want to leave. It was a holy moment indeed at the Holy Cross Monastery.

After Therapy Sessions with Myself

I was chatting with my therapist about how I have this pressure on me to make big life decisions right now and it all just feels so daunting.  I have this fear that if I don't figure it out now it won't happen.  I am disillusioned by the things that I wanted to see happen not happening and deeply afraid that nothing will ever happen for me.

I described my vision or motivation in life as these flashes of light.  I explained that before it was like light out everywhere and there was a clear path in front of me. Now it feels like these small flashes here and there that don't seem interconnected in any way.

One of the reasons I always come back to the movie PS I Love you is that embedded in this reverse rom-com is the idea of grief and feeling like your life is never going to begin leading you to understand what you were truly passionate about to begin with.  For years since I first saw the movie I've related so much to the main character in the first scene (I used to watch the first scene on repeat).  I'm deepening my understanding as to why I feel so connected to her insecurities. 

In the first scene, she has an argument with her husband about something he told her mom. What you see unfold is her  her unhappiness and also her deep desire to control everything and make it just right.  When she met her husband they were both artists trying to make their way in the world. Now they are working in regular jobs just trying to survive in New York City. Of course this is relatable to so many people (particularly artists) but, I don't know, I feel the keenness of this relation today probably because it's so clear in the scene that he is happy and secure in who he is and she is not.  I feel this in my own relationship. I feel this in relationship to my art as well.

PS I Love You is a love story- but it's not about her and her husband. From the beginning the set up was the relationship between Holly and herself. That is the most important relationship there is. It takes the entire movie for her to find herself again and discover happiness. 

Now, I don't have a movie budget nor (spoiler alert) a dead Irish husband to show me all of the things I need to see to get myself back to myself. But I do have a therapist and therapy sessions where I talk about myself and confuse the heck out of my therapist with the tangents that I go on. But life is confusing and not necessarily a clear, bright path.  Sometimes it's just flashes. Sometimes it's an argument with your husband.  Sometimes it's death. Sometimes it's writing a confusing blog post you will probably delete later or a song that no one will get to hear you sing or a melody that only you understand and that's ok because it will get you one step closer to happiness and that's what really matters.

Suffering in Silence

 When I felt good I took it for granted that it was not problem at all to chop veggies up and throw them in a pot. Now, on a bad day, it is painful.  But if I don't have fresh food then I'm told I'm not helping myself heal. So I feel guilty (not to mention spend more money) if I buy take out or frozen food.

For someone who generally overanalyzes every decision she makes and often doesn't advocate for herself, I feel very much unable to cope with the after affects of COVID. It's been over a year since I first had symptoms. I now empathize with anyone who has any sort of pain.  I think of how I would support new moms or someone who just had surgery or someone who was grieving the loss of a loved one by offering food and a shoulder to cry on and realize how much I had to learn.

For one thing, it's not just a one time need for one person to accomplish. People don't often continually voice their needs if they are continually in need. It feels like old news.  I thought one time checking in on someone was sufficient. I think now I would check on them multiple times and rally more friends in on the process. 

For another, I would change my approach.  The general rule of thumb for any sort of pain is to listen.  Effective listening does not offer my point of view. Often we think we know what someone is going through or what they should do for themselves or how we can help them but at the end of the day they are the ones that know best.  Offering guidance isn't a bad thing. But finding out what a person really wants from their interaction with you is a good place to start before releasing all of your "knowledge" on them.

I've found more often than not that people do not understand nor do they care to understand what I am going through.  This may seem harsh but the reality is that people automatically judge. It's what we do. I'm guilty of it!  Even when we think we aren't, we are.

Like I said, people don't ask for help.  It takes strategy to realize how to love someone well. I'm learning the more time I spend with social workers that there is a lot of skill and strategy that goes into helping people.  But even when we fail at all of the above, if we still sense someone needs something, it's so worth it to try to help. I'm still overwhelmed by the love I have received, looking back on it. I had a friend drop groceries off for me and my boyfriend. I had people praying for me, calling me, texting me. It was unbelievable how many people cared about me.

When people ask me how I am doing, I often don't know what to say and it's exhausting to try and filter.  The most honest answer without going into details is that I am managing.  I have good days and I have bad days but I am managing.  Does this mean I don't need help? No, it just means I'd rather be around people who acknowledge how much knowledge they actually have about the situation and so I'm not going into it further because I've had too many responses that are frankly ignorant.

I am grateful for this silent suffering because I feel that it makes me even more empathetic towards the millions of other people who suffer in silence and the myriads of reasons as to why they do.