Category Archives: Emotional Health

Character, Emotional Health, Goals and Dreams, Health and Long Life, Music and Theatre, Poverty, Uncategorized

Make music or make a living?

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Is it true that you can’t follow your heart and still make enough money to live on?

How many musicians labor, toil, worry, and obsess about that?  How many suffer the regular admonitions of those more responsible folks around us who tell us to be sensible, you’ll never make money as a musician?

“You lads and lasses should always remember that 24 record companies turned the Beatles down and that John’s Aunt Mimi said, ‘The guitar’s all very well, John, but you’ll never earn a living with it.’”

Is it true?  Must I find something non-creative, less artistic, by which to earn a living?

At the moment, I am beginning a full-time job that aligns with my other education and hobbies; my organizational fastidiousness, love of walking and out-door beauty, fascination with history and what makes people tick. But while I give wholehearted effort at the office for 40 or more hours each week, will I give up my music?

No way.  I will continue to raise young musicians.  I will continue to play and sing for others every chance I get. I’m not going to let go of that piano anytime soon. That would be to rip out a part of my heart and soul.  Besides – I’ll let you in on a secret:

Over the years I have made more money in music than any other avenue I have ever worked. Am I often a starving musician?  Yes. but I have been able to make much needed money off this gig ever since I was 15.

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Character, Emotional Health, Family, Health and Long Life, Home and Hearth, Spiritual Well Being, Uncategorized

Why hermits should sing

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Singing is aerobic. Aerobic activity releases endorphins which promote a feeling of well-being. A feeling of well-being brings happiness. Yes, singing requires an intake of oxygen which is invigorating.  A couple of years back, when I was singing with the quartet, I had to remember to finish practicing well before 8:00 o’clock in the evening if I wished to get to sleep on time.  You may have experienced the same cause and effect if you play a wind instrument.

Talking is a somewhat aerobic activity.  They say friendship talking releases endorphins. Perhaps that is because we feel connected, or maybe because of the intake of added oxygen.  I was reminded of this Thursday night on the way back from an outdoor concert.  My cousin and I rode in the back seat to chat while her husband drove and a friend rode in the passenger seat.  The stars were brilliant and we reminisced about a similar night sky when she was seven and I six years old.  The olde tyme simplicity of conversation left me feeling great.  A delightful evening well spent.  Singing or talking can become downright intoxicating.

Frankly, since I live single, I don’t get a frequent chance to talk just for the sake of getting historic.  No problem. Walking or hiking is also an aerobic activity. Walking in the great outdoors, getting a bit of exercise out in nature is another essential for that feeling of well-being.

So, here’s what I am thinking:  Unless hermits hike about their caves all day long, they need to be about the business of singing.  Obviously, they don’t have cousin Coni to talk with.

Character, co-dependence, Emotional Health, Health and Long Life, Uncategorized

When networking with friends is wonderful

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I reconnected with a high school classmate, someone I had not seen for forty years. We were never close in high school, but I knew her well enough for several years to feel that she was a solid person and probably was unchanged in essential ways like integrity and sense.

We now get together two or three times a year. We have an uncanny list of things in common. It would be fun to get together often. But, the years have run their course and no matter where we move, we continue to be separated by a few hundred miles.

As our friendship was re-forming, she offered me a side job representing her in a minor way. I was honored that she thought of me.  The duties required a good deal of trust. Though I am sure this was one of her reasons for re-initiating the acquaintance, she did not drop me like a hot potato when I declined.

Unlike the various relationships I criticized in my “Why I loathe friendship evangelism and network marketing,” posts; our friendship has continued – without either of us trying to manipulate the other with shame for not meeting expectations; without using and discarding; and certainly without added isolation. Friendships are wonderful. Networking can have great result. Do it right! It is not necessary to use friendships only for personal gain and discard them when no longer needed. 

Character, Emotional Health, Goals and Dreams, Health and Long Life, Poverty, Religion, Uncategorized

Why I loathe friendship evangelism and network marketing, Part Four: Isolation

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Why do I loathe network marketing and friendship evangelism? It makes me feel isolated, like I really am the only one.

Nothing depresses me more than unrelenting poverty. When I have done my best, beat the streets, thought of every angle (and it is acknowledged I think too much) – and I don’t know where the rent is coming from at the end of the month – or even where my next full meal is coming from, I am more ready to throw in the towel than at any other time.  Relentless bills.  Poverty.

At this end of the rope phase, I consider all the possibilities, I put the word out to friends and family that I am job-hunting. An old family friend calls, “We have a job opportunity where I work.  Come by the office and see me.”  It sounds entry level, but I am ready to do anything.  I will wash dishes, clean toilets, take out the trash before I will go delinquent on my bills, be homeless, or especially before I will use my piano for firewood.

I arrive at the appointed time.  There are pleasantries of getting to know each other once again. Then my friend introduces a way to add to my income; a plan by which I can make money by sharing a multi-level marketing plan.

Can we have a sincere relationship, please? Okay, I know you brought me here to share a good thing with me, not to give you a lesson in  logic, but consider this:  Your product saves money only if I have been using the most expensive services out there. I am already as frugal as common sense can make me.

Many of these plans are wonderful for making extra money – particularly if they are products you buy anyway and you are essentially co-oping. But, if hard times are already standing so close to your door you have eliminated toothpaste or hair conditioner or food from your budget, you are not looking for a way to earn extra money, you need immediate basic money.  The secret is not in a better budget, or better product. The secret is earning money to budget.

You see, I already have a way to earn extra money – it is called persistent music and writing. If I devote as much time and effort to music gigs and free-lance writing jobs as it would take to make cold calls and pursue old friends long forgotten (only for the sake of recruiting them); I assure you, I will make as much extra money working my passion as I would working your multi-level program. 

With regard to friendship evangelists and net-work marketers; I am sad. I really wanted your friendship and friendship is something you didn’t think to give me until you had a money motive or an honor and reputation motive.  You saw me as an opportunity for another notch in your belt.

And now, I am done ranting about the disappointments, shame, isolation; and the used and discarded feeling of Friendship Evangelism and Net-Work Marketing.

Next posts: some friendship networking that builds genuine lifelong friendships.

Character, co-dependence, Emotional Health, Goals and Dreams, Health and Long Life, Religion, Spiritual Well Being, Uncategorized

I loathe friendship evangelism and network marketing: Part III, used and discarded

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The place was Nashville. The reason?  Dove awards. Already that year I had been to Christian Artist’s Seminar in the Rockies and CBA Convention. I was a songwriter. My goal was to make and maintain friendships in the music publishing industry.  I had no money to do this on my own, but some mentors who had succeeded in publishing wanted the best for me and arranged for me to be there.

I bolstered my confidence and utter aloneness by dressing for success and headed toward the convention hotel lobby and breakfast. She must have been watching for the likes of me. Her reason for being in Nashville was a business trip with her husband. They had the wealth associated with Texas oil.  Awhile back she had written a few stanzas of lyrics that ought to be made into a song. When she arrived in Nashville and found a songwriter’s convention was afoot, she secured a premium, at the door, ticket and waltzed right in; sat right down.

Her friendliness was disarming.  She wanted to know everything about the music industry. “You’ve done this before?” she asked.  “Tell me everything you know.  Come on, I’ll buy you breakfast.”  Always ready to help and always ready to share knowledge, I followed her into the breakfast lounge. Also, always considerate of budget – mine or others-I ordered a modest muesli. She had an entrée with sides.

As the time allocated for breakfast drew to a close, a music executive whom I knew from previous conventions stopped by and greeted me.  I made introductions. My erstwhile breakfast companion rose and attached herself to him as he exited the breakfast room.  Guess who picked up the tab?

I felt used and discarded. I do not like friendship solely for network marketing.

Character, Emotional Health, Goals and Dreams, Health and Long Life, Religion, Spiritual Well Being, Uncategorized

I loathe friendship evangelism and network marketing; Part II Undeserved Shame

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Last time, I wrote that disappointment, was one reason I loathe friendship evangelism and network marketing. I am an introvert who responds well to the gregarious nature of extroverts.

Oh, I can smile generously and be well mannered, even friendly from the get go.  Stranger or not, I will help you in the moment and we can work together and have fun together. You are welcome in my pool of 50 or more people I am getting to know better; but the minute I feel you are using me, that you pursued the relationship only to recruit me, I am done.

Do not try to manipulate me for your own goals and headcount. Goals, manipulation, headcount, another football decal on your helmet, a notch in your belt; are the reasons I loathe friendship evangelism and network marketing.

If I find you have something good to offer, some talent or product, I will not hesitate to pass on your name or promote you. But I will not be bought or pressured. Don’t try to shame, manipulate or cajole a commitment out of me.

Many years ago we answered the knock at the door to find a magazine salesperson. The kind who says they are pursuing a career to keep them off the street. Only this time, it was someone we knew from school days.  We invited the young woman in, renewed old acquaintance, served iced tea. Then, we declined to purchase a magazine.  There were none we needed and we were on a strict budget. She rose indignantly and left saying, “You wasted my time!”

Experiences like that make me a bit wary of one who has become an  e-pen pal.  He is a fun correspondent. He has been steadily pursuing common ground. We have found a few similar interests. But, I know this gig. I am waiting for the other shoe to fall.  I suspect this will turn out to be friendship evangelism. When will he pop the question (Are you saved?)?  I could simply answer in the affirmative, in which case he can cross me off the list and focus on other conquests.  Or, I might respond in caveat laden candor that leads to debate. Either way, I predict he will “shake the dust off his feet,” and move on. Given past experience, do you blame me for my skepticism?

I have developed a few online relationships over the past five years. Some with good mutual result which I will highlight in positive posts after I get the loathing out of my system.  But right now, I loathe both the disappointment and undeserved shame of friendship evangelism or network marketing.

Character, Emotional Health, Religion, Spiritual Well Being, Uncategorized

I loathe friendship evangelism and network marketing, Part I

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I loathe friendship evangelism and network marketing.   I am always in search of more friends.  I have a couple of fingers left to fill up in that category referred to as a handful of close friends. I seldom run hastily into new friendships. Once committed to a friendship, I am a pretty loyal soul, so I think long and hard about the cost of friendship before I extend myself.

Last week, while working in a non-profit setting, I met a potential soul-mate.  I kid you not, for the first two hours, I thought I was getting to know my new best friend. The energy was there as we began to reveal interests and hobbies in the intervals between working on the project. First of all, both of us love music.  Two; we have grown kids.  Three; we are world travelers and residents. Four; as musicians we play church and retirement center gigs.

Then, as our project time drew to a close, the energy dwindled and my new acquaintance lost focus on the task at hand.  Each time she returned to our conversation, it was to grill me about gigs I had played. We were no longer comparing notes – she was taking notes. I don’t mind sharing my contacts, but her total focus was networking.  All the while, what I really wanted was a good friend.  

I came away from the encounter disappointed. Just one of the reasons I loathe friendship evangelism and network marketing.  Part two – coming soon.

Character, Emotional Health, Goals and Dreams, Health and Long Life, Uncategorized

To a world starving for beautiful words

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I love words.  I love the way they bump up together and create meaning. I love rhyme and internal cadence.  A well turned phrase – or a truly witty pun – brings joy and laughter. I heartily agree with the Proverb: words fitly spoken are like apples of gold in frames of silver.  Can you imagine the beauty?

Today, at weekend work, I received a bouquet of words. It is amazing how quickly good news can fly. Before the words of commendation reached me, at least three other pairs of eyes had seen them, so it was like gossip, only better.  The electronic note came through the National Park Service, to the lead ranger, on to my immediate supervisor, into my hands.

Less than 24 hours ago, I served an amiable customer at the Visitor Center. One among 990 that day. He was the perfect customer; competent and quietly confident-the type of person who is so open and kind, it would be impossible to not serve him and his party well.  Yet, he took the time and trouble to write a commendation, within 24 hours, while on a cross-country trip.

You know what? I want to be like that customer; to pursue everyday folks and bring out the best in them.  I want to spread positive gossip; to encourage people simply by my presence and well chosen words; to not only notice the best in others, but take the time and trouble to point it out; thus bringing hope for the future to a world starving for beautiful words.

Character, co-dependence, Emotional Health, Fiction is Truth, Metaphor, Uncategorized

A Friday Fiction Mashup wherein two speakers try on well known roles to make truth into fiction.

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“She left me!”  the heart rending and spine-tingling wail echoed from the darkness of the cavern like Rachel weeping for her children.

“She’s gone!” No, make that like Gollum weeping for his Precious.

“She left me, my Precious.”

“There, there.  Calm down,” said the traveler.  Maybe it’s not so bad as all that.  Perhaps your precious is just lost and you need to go and find her.”

“No. No.  She left me!  My precious left me.”

“Why did she leave you?  Did you hit her?”

“No. No.  Hitting is wrong.  I would never hit my precious.”

There was silence in the darkness.  Then the wail began again.

“Make her come back.  Make my precious come back.  She left me.”

Patiently, the voice from the darkness asked again, “Why did she leave you?  Did you take another lover in her place?”

“She left me.  Didn’t you hear me?  She left me.”

The wail melted into heaving sobs like a scoop of ice cream slowly spreading into a puddle. The wail continued in a murmur,

“Happy we were, in our little cave, away from the noise and crush of the crowds.”

“Well then, was she isolated, lonely?” prodded the voice.

“No. No.  Not lonely.  We had each other.”

“In the darkness?”

“No, not always darkness.  She had a lamp. Only darkness now because I spend my days exploring the dark part of the cave. Around the corner and up about 50 paces there is a fissure in the rock where the sunshine streams in. Precious loved that place.  There is a back exit to the cave through a lemon squeezer. Precious used to climb through the lemon squeezer and go hike along the tiny stream.  She said the running water sang to her and showed her wonderful things.”

“So, Precious really loved this place?”

Oh yes, loved this place, did Precious. And I.”

“So, if your precious loved this place so much, why did she leave?”

“I don’t know.  She left me, my precious!”

“I know, I know, your precious left you,” said the voice with quiet annoyance.  “I am trying to figure out why.  If we can figure out why, perhaps we can take some steps to get your precious back.”

“She belongs here.  She should come back.”

There was a pause in the blackness.  After some thought, the traveler asked, “Did your precious ever get away from the cave?  You know, go down to Metropolis for concerts or shopping?”

“Every day!”  he wailed.

“What?  Precious went shopping every day?  This is an unexpected development.”

“No, no.  Precious left me and went to work every day. She didn’t love the cave as much as I did or she would not have been able to leave,” he stated petulantly.

“Precious left you everyday to go to work?”  inquired the voice.

“Yes, yes,”  he wailed, “Precious, stubborn Precious.  She wanted me to go to work everyday too.  She said the only way we could keep living in our wonderful cave was for both of us to work.  That’s not true. This cave belongs to me!

“So, you didn’t want to go to work?”

“No. No.  It is more important to hold tightly to the things you have than to work for something better.”  He paused for emphasis, then continued,

“It wasn’t possible for me to go to work.  I was busy working here in the cave.  There were so many tunnels I hadn’t yet explored. I found some fascinating stones and minerals in the lower tunnel and I needed to catalog them.”

“Are you a mineralogist then?”

“Me?  No. I’m a  horticulturalist….I just know a lot about minerals because, my precious, she came with a degree in mineralogy when I married her.”

“So, she went to the city every day to work as a mineralogist?”

“No, she was just typing orders for a bakery.”

“Do you think it bothered her that you got to stay at the cave doing research in mineralogy while she was away typing bakery orders?”

“Why would she leave the cave every day if it bothered her? What it all comes down to is, you do the thing you are interested in.  I had more heart for the cave than she did. You only do what you want to do.”

There was a moment of silence as the traveler shrugged along with the man.

“Besides, while my precious was doing her little bakery job, I was conducting an experiment and was deep in research.”

“Oh?” said the voice.

“Yes.  I noticed I had to stoop to bring the rocks from the lower tunnel to daylight to look at them.  I was collecting data to find which way of carrying rocks made me stoop least.”

“I see,” nodded the voice. “What did Precious think about your experiment?”

“See?” wailed the man, “I just realized she was never supportive of my work! She was a woman, so she was shorter. How could she know how difficult it was for me to bring up rocks?  She didn’t have to stoop.”

Again, there was silence.

“One other question,” began the voice. “Just out of curiosity, how did that work when your, uh, precious came home from the city each evening; did you have a fresh garden salad on the table for her?”

“What?” asked the man with a good deal of incredulity as though he had never heard the word salad before.

“A salad,” repeated the voice. “You are a stay-at-home horticulturalist.  Did you greet her with a fresh green meal at the end of the day?”

“I didn’t have time,” said the man indignantly.

“I worked hard at my research, right on into the evening. But, she never appreciated that.  Most of the time I wasn’t aware of her arrival.  At first when she came home from the bakery, she used to call down the tunnel, ‘Hi!  I’m home!’ But after a while she quit doing that. Once after she had finally fixed us dinner and we had eaten, she asked me to do the dishes.”

“Really?” inquired the voice.

“I told her it made me feel less of a man to be doing dishes.”

“Did she apologize?”

“Are you kidding?  She didn’t say a thing. The next night when I came up to the kitchen, there was no food on the table.  She should have been home for two hours already. The dishes were clean and neatly stacked in the cupboard.  She was gone.”

The silence was pregnant with profound thought. At least it seemed that way, until the man burst out,

“Maybe she wanted to be a Goblin Princess.”

“A Goblin Princess?  That is highly illogical.  Logic says Precious was more inclined to be Superwoman than a goblin princess.”

“It was those goblins who stole her!”

“What?  She was kidnapped?  Why didn’t you report it?  Set your ship at warp speed and go after her?”

“I did go after her.”

“Did you find her?”

“Not exactly, but I found out about her – more than I wanted to know. I waited a few months to see if she would find her way back on her own. Then, I told my friends and asked them what I should do. I wrote her a letter begging her to come back, but I couldn’t find a stamp. Can you believe it? She didn’t leave me any stamps in the drawer. Finally, somebody offered me a ride back to University Town where I heard she was living.”

“Did you go?”

“I went to University Town, but, I didn’t get to see her.  I ran into an old friend instead. We had been enemies for many years; but, when he saw me back in town, he slapped me on the back and was glad to see me. He said he knew things about what my precious had been before she found me.  He said she used to be a Goblin Princess,” the man fairly spat the words.  Then he added self-righteously, “Once a goblin princess, always a goblin princess, you know.”

“You were satisfied with that story?  You lived with her for over a decade and you think she actually left you to be a goblin princess?”

“I guess so. Why else would she leave me? It makes sense.  She always did have goblin tendencies.  They love rocks, you know. I remember now how she always loved rocks.”

The man sighed heavily. Once again the wail began to build.  The traveler with the questions covered his ears and retreated to the mouth of the cave and the sunlight.  When the echo subsided, he stepped back into the cavern.

“Say,”  he said. “I came through University Town yesterday. I was there for the gem and mineral symposium at the college.  I think I saw your precious. You might like to know that she is not a goblin princess.  She was the guest lecturer on the hidden value of gold and rubies and how to tell the difference between the real thing and the fake.”

Copyright © Cherry Odelberg, 2013

If you enjoyed this story, you might also enjoy Hell or Love and Let me tell you a parable, from Before I Went Crazy

Character, Emotional Health, Health and Long Life, Holidays and Traditions, Spiritual Well Being, Uncategorized

It must be the fault of all those candles

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Birthdays wouldn’t be so hard if it wasn’t for the candles. The cake looks more like swiss cheese or a mini gopher colony once the candles are removed leaving pocks and potholes where the frosting used to be. My three-year-old granddaughter seizes the candles, licking off the frosting and then double dipping as she waits for me to cut the cake.

This year my candles would be difficult to arrange in orderly rows and ranks; an odd number;  a prime age. Prudently and perhaps with a bit of thrift, my mother placed only three candles in the corner of the cake  – just for tradition. So everyone could sing by candlelight.  I took a breath and blew.  Success.  My grandchildren clapped and cheered and shouted, “Make a wish!  Make a wish!”

Suddenly, I was stuck.  Pop quiz!  Make a wish.  What do I wish for? Blank. Perplexed. It is such a heavy responsibility to have only one wish.  There is a fear and shame that goes along with wishes.  Fear that you might wish for something and be disappointed.  Shame that you are engaging in wishful thinking and should shake a leg and do something about it.

“Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.”  What if I blow out all the candles and the magic works?  What if I wish for the wrong thing, and get it?  Let me think this through.   If I make a wish, have I committed myself? After all, it is pure laziness to engage in wishful thinking and then take no action to make the thing you want or wish for come about.

What do I want?  For me?  Wishing and wanting, doesn’t that sound selfish?  I have no wants. I don’t know what I want.  So then, what do I need? Nothing, really, I have learned to get along.  Poke me, I have no feelings.  What do I want?  I want to do the right thing; or rather, to not do the wrong thing. I want not to make a mistake.

Wait a minute, there is something deep inside that hungers for something more. What is it?  What is that niggling thought?  Like the spoiled little prince who cried out, “I want something hot as summer and cold as winter,” I am vaguely dissatisfied. I want, I want, something different; something new and wonderful.  A new life, a new love, a new location, a new job.  Really?  Am I wishing for those things?  What am I thinking of? What if the new life was just out of the frying pan and into the fire?  What if it wasn’t what I wanted and I was sorry I left my old life?  Do I even have energy for new love?  Do I want a new location?  Think, woman!

What is the right thing to wish for?  World peace?  World prosperity? Are those wishes I won’t feel guilty about?   But, can I do anything about it?

Happy Birthday!  You are thinking too much again. Who needs a birthday spanking when you can beat yourself up without even trying?  It must be the fault of all those candles.