SO WHAT DO I HAVE TO SHOW FOR IT?
Random Ruminations of an Octogenarian
November, 2020
Greetings, one and all! Welcome to my blog, or should I say my latest adventure! I have actually been thinking off and on for many years about writing a blog, but the time never quite seemed right. Now it seems the Muse is tapping me on the shoulder, and the Universe is sending me signs that it is time to begin. As I will explain in my blog posts, I am really writing for myself, but I won't mind a bit if you enjoy reading my thoughts and/or find that you identify with my story. My only plan is to have fun in the process. Because I am an Enneagram Type 1, I function best in structure. So I have set myself the goal of writing this blog for six months with a minimum of one post per week. That's 26 posts, though I can write more if the Muse insists. Thank you in advance for reading. If you would like to comment on anything, please visit my Facebook page (Diane McCullough Clark), as I will also be posting the blog link there, or email me at granddiva@charter.net . And now here we go!!!
BLOG POST #1 -- NOVEMBER 6, 2020
SO WHAT DO I HAVE TO SHOW FOR IT?
Perhaps you are wondering why I chose the title SO WHAT DO I HAVE TO SHOW FOR IT? for my new blog. Well, it happens that I turned 80 years old last month, so I have been thinking a lot about what it means to have lived this long and what I can claim to have accomplished in my life thus far. Being given 8 decades is a precious gift (not available to all), and it seems like we ought to have put it to good use, doesn’t it? So the obvious question for me is SO WHAT DO I HAVE TO SHOW FOR IT?
I have an entire wall in my home that is plastered with framed certificates: my high school and university diplomas, my memberships in various organizations, my honors and awards. I also have a staircase wall that is covered with photographs of music teachers, my own voice students, and various musical and theatrical performances. I love looking at all these things, because they make me feel proud of myself, but also because each item reminds me of a period of time when I was involved in a particular activity and engaged with a specific group of people. For example, when I view my master’s degree diploma from Indiana University, I am immediately catapulted back to the years 1966-1968 -- the joy of living in beautiful Bloomington (my first time to live outside the South), my fellow music students at IU (some who are still lifelong friends), the excellent and demanding professors who taught me, the plethora of live concerts of familiar and less well known music that inspired me, the romances I enjoyed, the fears I dealt with, and the particular ways in which I grew as a person during that two-year period. Some of the friendships were very surprising, such as the one I enjoyed with #47, one of the IU security officers who patrolled the building where I was a Resident Assistant. Another counselor and I befriended this sweet man, and he later invited us to dine in his home with his wife and children – a lovely evening. He also stopped by once to visit me when he and his family passed through Lubbock, TX, on a western vacation.
Thus, looking at the certificates & photographs is satisfying, not so much to be able to tally up my achievements, but rather because they represent specific times of my life when I was engaged in using my gifts to help make the world a better place. That happens to be the main purpose of life, as far as I can tell. So as I look at my life and say, “I have lived for 80 years, so what do I have to show for it?”, I see that it is not about external rewards or markers, though these have their place. It is much more about the people I have encountered and the exchanges we have enjoyed -- the various ways in which we have touched each other’s lives. From this perspective, I see that I am very rich indeed.
I also happen to believe that we are all living our stories, and that we are meant to share our stories with each other and learn from one another’s experiences. As someone once said, “You can’t live long enough to make all the mistakes yourself.” So I can learn to know you by hearing your story, and I can learn to know myself better by sharing my story. Best of all, we can learn that, though the details may differ, our stories show we have much common ground as human beings. So I look forward to sharing bits of my story with you, and we will see where it takes us. I am excited!
BLOG POST #2 – NOVEMBER 7, 2020
WHY SHOULD I BLOG?
I did it! I started a blog. I have been thinking about doing this for a long time, so why did I finally decide to take the plunge? It all started with a wonderful series of interviews presented recently by life coach Elena Armijo entitled “Disrupt the World Now – Powerful Women for Change” (which I will be mentioning again in later blog posts). The very first woman interviewed mentioned that she had been helped by a company called StrengthsFinder, so of course, I had to look them up on the internet. Once on their site, I decided to take their free High5Test, which is a series of questions designed to help you to identify your top 5 strengths. I know myself pretty well after 80 years, so most of the answers did not come as a surprise to me. The test said my strengths are: 1. Self-believer. 2. Empathizer. 3. Optimist. 4. Strategist. 5. Storyteller.
I felt these designations were accurate, but the one that stood out for me was “Storyteller.” I started to reflect on that label and try to pinpoint ways in which I am a storyteller in my life. Of course, as a singer, actor, and singing teacher, I spend a lot of time focusing on the stories found in songs and plays and the ways we can communicate those stories and their inherent emotions to an audience. But I do believe that personal stories are very important, and as I mentioned in my last post, I think we learn a lot from sharing our own story and hearing the stories of others. It may even be why we are here! I am very proud of my former Rhodes College student Helen Moses, who has just published her own story in a book entitled Voice Unleashed. Helen’s book recounts her experiences in the quest to step up and have her authentic voice heard.
I, too, have had good intentions in the past about writing a personal book – more than one book, in fact. But as I considered this again, the blog idea presented itself to me, and I liked it for several reasons. First, I am good with short forms. I am a lifelong poet and I enjoy expressing myself with imagery and powerful emotions in very few words. Second, I have recently fallen in love with flash fiction, and this past year I have had 25 of my 100-word stories published by the online publisher Friday Flash Fiction. Third, I am a disciple of the Kaizen philosophy of taking small steps to achieve large goals. And so it made sense to me that a blog would be a good place to start sharing more of my story. I already had a website and a Facebook presence, so it seemed like an easy path.
Of course, we all have fears about putting ourselves “out there.” What if no one reads my blog or if people think it’s stupid or don’t like what I have to say? But the answer to those questions ultimately is that it doesn’t matter, because I am doing this project for myself. I like to write, and I am my own favorite subject, so what else do I need? If anyone else reads and enjoys, then it is just icing on the cake.
One of my all-time favorite quotations is attributed to the German poet Johann Wolfgang von Goethe:
“Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative and creation, there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves, too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favor all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings, and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now.”
Once I had decided to blog and made a blog page ready on my website, I was delighted to receive on Facebook the offer of a free book on how to become a successful blogger! :-) Coincidence? I like to think that was just a little pat on the back from the Universe, giving me permission to go ahead with my plans. If we hold our desire in our heart and take the leap of faith, the help we need will be forthcoming.
In the interest of space-saving, some blog posts have been removed. If you are just dying to read the missing items, please contact me at granddiva@charter.net and I will help you avoid this death. The missing posts include:
BLOG POST #3 -- NOVEMBER 8, 2020 -- WHAT IS MY SUPERPOWER?
BLOG POST #4 – NOVEMBER 11, 2020 -- WHY DOES SAYING GOODBYE TO MUSIC RECORDINGS FEEL LIKE I AM CUTTING MY ARM OFF?
BLOG POST #5 – NOVEMBER 12, 2020 -- WHAT HAVE I LEARNED ON THE PATH TO PATIENCE?
BLOG POST #6 – NOVEMBER 14, 2020 -- WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE PRIVILEGED?
BLOG POST #7 – NOVEMBER 15, 2020 -- WHY DID GOD THINK I NEEDED SO MANY THERAPISTS IN MY LIFE?
BLOG POST #8 -- NOVEMBER 18, 2020 -- WHEN DO I GET THAT OLD FEELING?
BLOG POST #9 – NOVEMBER 20, 2020 -- HOW DO I WANT TO BE REMEMBERED?
BLOG POST #10 – NOVEMBER 21, 2020 -- WHAT DOES MY HANDWRITING REVEAL ABOUT ME?
BLOG POST #11 – NOVEMBER 22, 2020
WHY DO I FEEL LIKE CRYING TODAY?
I did just cry, actually. I watched the online worship service from my church, Central United Methodist, and it filled up my heart. The organ music was spectacular and inspiring as always. The choir sang, masked and socially distanced throughout the sanctuary, the stirring anthem “For All the Saints.” The sermon was powerful and gave me a lot to reflect on this week. As I sit here and think about my life, my tears are just at the edge.
Fortunately, I am not ashamed to cry. That is one of the great lessons I learned from my precious mother Muriel, who cried often over many things. As a child, whenever I would get upset to see her crying, she would say, “Crying is a good thing. It helps you let your worries and your sadness out. And you can cry when you’re happy, too, because it makes you feel so good.” What a blessing she gave me with those words! Now, like her, I tear up at the least little thing. Decades ago, before I gave up watching TV, there was a precious ad, where a darling little boy said pitifully, “I can’t find my socks!” I cried every time I saw it. My tears threshold is very close to the surface for both sadness and laughter.
So why am I crying today? As I mentioned in Blog Post #8, I stay pretty closely in touch with my feelings. And it seems there is a lot to cry about in our world today. In my very closest circle, I am lonely for my friends and family, though I am grateful that I can connect with them online and by phone. I miss the three choirs I normally sing in; my life is very impoverished when I can’t make music with others. I am sad that the upcoming holidays, which are always difficult for people who live alone, will be even more lonely than usual.
Looking beyond my four walls, I hurt for my friends and everyone who has been stricken with Covid or who has suffered economically from the shutdown of their work. I hurt for those who cannot be with their loved ones and for those who have lost loved ones to this horrible disease. I feel sad that I cannot help more, because I have to stay “safe.”
Beyond my circle of loved ones, I cry for my country. Tears of happiness that we have elected a new president, who will return dignity and compassion to the White House. Tears of sorrow at the way some people are behaving about the election results and attacking the foundations of our democracy. More tears about the challenges we face ahead in social justice, climate concerns, and economic wellbeing. And lastly tears of hope that somehow Love will win, because Love is the most powerful force in the world, and there are those active in this world who truly bear Love for their fellow human beings. Every day I read stories of kindness and good deeds that make me cry with joy. I thank God for the gift of tears that help us get in touch with what is in our hearts. As the song says, “Cry Me a River!” -- a beautiful river of love and compassion for all our sisters and brothers, on this planet and beyond.
BLOG POST #12 – NOVEMBER 25, 2020
WHY DID I WANT TO GO TO CLOWN SCHOOL?
Only a few of my friends know this, but I have always wanted to go to Clown School. When I say “always,” I actually am not sure when this desire first took hold. No doubt the earliest seeds were sown when I went to the circus as a young child and laughed at the crazy clowns there. They always looked like they were having a barrel of fun, and they made everyone else laugh, too. I have always loved to laugh.
Somewhere along the way, I discovered there were schools you could attend to learn how to be a clown. It had never occurred to me that such a thing was possible, or even needed. Wasn’t it just a natural thing that someone could be funny and make people laugh? Evidently not. The existence of Clown Schools implied that there was more to clowning than that.
At any rate, I collected brochures and other information from several institutions of clowning, and I dreamed of attending to learn what it was all about. Unfortunately, my dream never materialized. The closest I ever got was dressing up as a clown and attending a women’s study group one evening. We were studying Julia Cameron’s wonderful book The Artist’s Way, and our assignment was to come as a character or identity we had always wanted to be. So I went as a clown. My friends loved it – and so did I. It was very freeing.
So why did I want to be a clown? As I said, I love to laugh, and over time I have learned that laughter is one of the most beneficial commodities in creating good health in people. There is even a practice called “laughter therapy.” You can read accounts of many people who have used laughter to heal themselves from various serious physical diseases.
While training as a singer/actor, I encountered the fact that it is necessary for actors to be able to laugh and cry on command. I learned that the acts of laughing and crying can be performed physically without actually having the accompanying emotional motivation, and it is also true that if the act itself is performed for just a bit of time, it generates the real emotion. It also happens that when I perform the laughter action, my body doesn’t know the difference between fake laughter and real laughter, and it generates the desired endorphins anyway, which are healing for my system! I once went through a period when I would purposely laugh for 3 minutes a day, and I have never felt better! I would start with just the physical act, and in no time at all I was truly doubled over with sincere humor. When I find myself feeling blue now, I sometimes do my laughter therapy. It’s easy, quick, and effective. Try it sometime.
Anyway, back to Clown School and the reasons I wanted to go. Clowns symbolize for me making people happy. They are willing to make themselves silly and vulnerable in order to win people over and get them to laugh. Since laughter is healing, one could say that clowns are true healers. Since childhood I have been interested in healing, and I have studied extensively about my gift of music as a healing art. Clowns teach us humility, too. They have no false dignity. They are just openly themselves, and they offer themselves to people freely, warts and all. I believe this is how we ought to be with our fellow humans. There is something great about clown make-up, too. It is so exaggerated that it gives us permission to be someone different, which we are not always willing to do. Sometimes we are afraid of stepping outside our system of limiting beliefs. Dressing as a clown can allow us a great deal of freedom.
Finally, clowns have the ability to find humor in the ordinary. I am a firm believer that if we can maintain our sense of humor, we can get through just about anything in this life. In my book, laughter = good health.
I did sort of get my wish about 5 years ago, when I attended a clown workshop here in Traverse City. The visiting clown, Don Colliver, sent out a notice, and I decided “Why not?” It sounded like fun, and I knew I would learn something. It turned out to be a delightful evening – a small group because of the late notice – me and 4 young dancers. They, of course, were much freer with using their bodies than I (at age 75!), but I had the clear advantage when it came to expressing freely with my voice. It was fun to observe how we each met the varied challenges Don presented to us. A good time was had by all, and I learned several tools that I later used in my barbershop chorus and quartet coaching.
Chances are good that I will never get to a real Clown School. However, I am thinking that life itself is a pretty good substitute. We can find laughter in many places, especially if we go looking. Wouldn’t it be fun if we just set ourselves the task of making one person laugh today? What a healing gift that would be!
BLOG POST #13 – NOVEMBER 27, 2020
WHY DO I LOVE FRUITCAKE?
I just finished baking the first batch of fruitcakes, which means Christmas has officially begun at my house. Fruitcake, it seems, has become quite the controversial topic at holiday time. Some people adore and swear by it (like me), and others seem to hate and make fun of it (Sad).
I like fruitcake because it tastes good. I love all the fruits, nuts, and spices that go into it, and the slight tang of brandy or rum when it is soaked in spirits. Fruitcake was a staple in my mother’s family, and the original recipe has been perfected and modernized a bit through the years, but it is still as yummy as ever. When I was a child growing up, we knew it was the Christmas season when my mother start baking the fruitcakes. Most children gave their school teachers presents at Christmas time, and I always gave my teachers homemade fruitcakes. Needless to say, they were thrilled. In fact, my 7th grade home room and Tennessee history teacher Mr. Brown (What was his first name? Carlton?) liked his so much that even after I left him to go to 8th grade, he asked me if I thought he could stay on my mother’s fruitcake list. That tickled my mother so much that of course she kept him on the list, and he got two more fruitcakes before I left Snowden Junior High School. Clever man!
I of course love to make fruitcakes because they make me feel close to my mother. All who knew her knew that her middle name was FOOD, and she was certainly one of the best cooks around. She loved making food for people. Without a doubt she was an Enneagram Type 2, the Caregiver! At any rate, when I make her fruitcake recipe, I feel she is smiling down upon me with love and pride, and I am flooded with memories of happy family times.
I am fascinated by fruitcakes in general. I have tried out several other recipes over the years – none quite as good as Mother’s, of course. But it is nice to have variety. I got an especially good recipe from one of my Traverse City hairdressers, Marna Klaft, and I make it every few years along with my regular one. I even enjoy “store-bought” fruitcakes, if there are no homemade varieties handy. I especially enjoyed Debbie Macomber’s novel Glad Tidings: There’s Something About Christmas -- a story about a female, fruitcake-hating reporter who has to interview three finalists in a fruitcake contest, and naturally she falls in love with the pilot who ferries her around to visit the three bakers. She also learns a lot of life wisdom from the three ladies. I kept the book and have made all three of the winning recipes! In fact, I think I will read that book again this weekend! :-)
I like to send fruitcakes when I have to mail gifts to people, because they keep and travel well. I always have to keep at least one cake to enjoy myself as a treat throughout the holidays. They have been known to last until March, tasting good to the last crumb.
I feel sorry for the people who claim not to like fruitcake. In my opinion, they are missing a good thing. Maybe they have never tasted a really good fruitcake. I have had people tell me they never liked fruitcake till they ate mine, which is a lovely compliment to my Grandmother Cornelia’s recipe. Ah well, as we know, it’s different strokes for different folks, and I try not to give my precious fruitcakes to people unless I know they will be appreciated.
Tomorrow I will soak the cakes in spirits and wrap them to absorb the flavor for a couple of weeks. Then they will be prime for eating and enjoying. Can’t wait!
What’s your special Christmas treat?
BLOG POST #14 -- DECEMBER 6, 2020
WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE COMFORT FOOD?
In my 2020 Christmas letter, I enumerated some of my pandemic activities this year, including this: “I have cooked and eaten a lot of comfort food.” It seems the whole world has been doing that during the past 9 months. I can remember back in April when I couldn’t find any flour on the grocery shelves, and even the websites of King Arthur and General Mills said “Out of Stock.” Everybody was at home baking, not just because they had to stay home and had the extra time, but because we all needed the comfort. Even in non-pandemic times, we turn to comfort food when we are sad or upset about things in our lives. And especially when we are sick, we have our favorite comfort foods that somehow seem to have special curative powers.
I happen to love to eat, and thank goodness I did inherit at least some of my mother’s love for cooking. There was nothing she loved better than feeding a multitude of people her delicious, always-made-from-scratch creations. I don’t like to feed multitudes, but I do enjoy cooking certain dishes, and when I do cook, it makes me feel very close to (and approved by!) my sweet mother.
I am definitely a foodie, in the sense that I love and appreciate tasty, well-prepared, and well-presented food. I can enjoy dinner in the finest elegant restaurant, and I enjoy equally having burgers and chili around a campfire or catfish and hush puppies at a fish fry. It is hard for me to name my favorite foods, though I certainly know I have a pernicious sweet tooth, which I inherited from several paternal aunts. I would also be hard-pressed to name my favorite comfort foods, though I can certainly talk about some of them.
Since I grew up with these, I enjoy sandwiches made from peanut butter and jelly, tunafish salad, and that great Southern staple, pimiemto cheese. (They are specially comforting when made on white bread!). I also love a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of Campbell’s tomato soup. Although I love a good homemade tomato soup, it does not comfort me like the cheap and easy combo that my Mother served me and my neighbor friends through the years. Mother also fed us potato soup when we were sick, because that’s what her mother did. I love to make and eat potato soup, and I have a great, new recipe going in the crockpot even as I write this.
It’s holiday time, and I always make fruitcakes to give at Christmas, because that’s what my mother did. Her family also enjoyed plum pudding with bourbon sauce, whereas my father’s family’s special holiday treat was ambrosia made with those hard-to-obtain citrus fruits. (Growing up as a privileged city child, I never understood why my parents though an apple or an orange in a Christmas stocking was such a great treat.)
Of course, I love making my mother’s famous pocketbook rolls and her yummy cornbread. I also love any kind of bread baking, and have several wonderful bread cookbooks. I especially enjoy fiddling with fermented foods, so I delight in using various sourdough recipes for many delicious loaves. Also brandied fruit (baked into cakes or topping vanilla ice cream) and Amish Friendship Bread Starter, which I most often use for my favorite biscotti (in dozens of flavor combos).
Another of my favorite foods is cheesecake, so I enjoy using my beautiful cookbook The Joy of Cheesecake, aa well as many other great cheesecake recipes I have collected over the years.
It’s almost New Year’s Day, and every good Southerner knows to eat black-eyed peas for good luck on Jan. 1. Those can be a little hard to come by in northern Michigan, but I have perfected a delicious recipe for black-eyed pea and black bean soup, which serves my purposes quite nicely.
I could go on and on – I do love food after all. But you might enjoy making your own list and/or even cooking some of the foods that help you remember those special times and people in your life. That’s why they are so comforting, after all.
What’s your favorite comfort food?
BLOG POST #15 – DECEMBER 14, 2020
WHAT DOORS ARE OPENING AND CLOSING IN YOUR LIFE?
Last night I learned on Facebook that a lifelong dear Memphis friend had died – Martha Spruell Pipkin. Martha was six years older than me, and I first met her when I was a teen-aged voice student in the studio of my first teacher, with whom Martha also studied singing. Over the 65 years of our friendship, Martha and I enjoyed and made much beautiful music together. I also spent several years “enjoying” exercising in her fitness program called “Shape Up with Martha.” I knew her husband and children, and I have many happy Martha memories. So, as I was pondering her death, I had the thought that a door has closed in my life. Then I realized that Martha is the last friend I had who also remembered our mutual Houston friend Bob Hellums. Now I will have no one to remember Bob with, so that door is also closed. Since I am now 80 years old, experiencing the deaths of friends is becoming a more frequent thing, and it will only get worse until it is my turn to forsake this mortal coil. Each time I lose someone, a door slams shut on a part of my life.
We experience closures of other kinds as well. My dear friend Melanie Stoll has just left Traverse City to live in Florida with her new husband. I am thrilled for them, of course, but sad for myself that I have lost my partner in crime. We made much fun music together, particularly in our jazz duo Vive le Jazz!, and we shared a great many interests. Of course, our friendship will take on a new, long-distance form, but the door has closed on our close, in-person connection.
The truth is that the doors of our life are opening and closing all the time. Something old ends, something new begins. William Bridges talks about this in his excellent book Transitions. He speaks of the period of chaos that we often experience between the end of one thing and the beginning of the next, and he points out that this nebulous period can be one of our most productive, creative times.
Looking at my own life, I see all kinds of doors. Some are wide open, showing things that I am enjoying fully. And no doubt there are some things that I am struggling with as well. Some doors have closed, never to reopen. Some new doors are in various stages of opening, such as two particularly delightful new friendships I am nurturing. There is a famous saying, “When one door closes, another one opens.” Some people give God the credit, as in “When one door closes, God opens another one.” However, I think God expects a little more self-starting from us. When we experience a loss in life, we must grieve it appropriately, but then we must take responsibility for seeking the new thing to which we are called to devote our time and energy --the new experience that will bring us happiness. And when we find it, we must nurture that new thing, just as a gardener carefully nurtures plants in the garden. We may have our memories of previous beautiful gardens, but this garden will not become beautiful without our love and attention. We may have many wonderful memories of our experiences behind the closed doors, but we must make the effort to pull open the new doors and nourish the life that calls to us there. We are designed to remain in the flow of life for however long we are blessed to live on this earthly plane.
What doors are closing and opening in your life?
BLOG POST #16 – JANUARY 3, 2021
DID CURIOSITY KILL THE CAT?
A well-known proverb insists that “Curiosity killed the cat.” Its implication is that curiosity is a bad thing – dangerous even. I, however, think curiosity is an extremely admirable trait. Babies are curious. They encounter something new and can’t wait to find out all about how it works. They want to explore it, especially with their senses – touch and taste. My cat is curious. She wants to go everywhere and check out everything, especially the places she is forbidden to go.
The first trump in the Tarot deck is #0 – the Fool. Someone’s first thought may be to look down on this figure for being foolish, ignorant, or stupid, but that is not the right of it. The archetype of the Fool is the story of innocence -- humans in the Garden of Eden. We come out of the womb as a blank slate. Then people immediately start writing on our slate, and we have no control over that for the longest time. As we grow older, we sometimes become fearful and are hesitant to explore anything new or unfamiliar. Or we think we know all we need to know and don’t care to stretch our boundaries. My father was one who hesitated to try new things, and I believe this was from a deep-seated fear of failure. My mother, however, was always eager to have new adventures and learn new things. She was very gifted and creative, and she was not afraid to make mistakes and learn from them. Needless to say, my parents’ personality differences made for some interesting times in our house.
So what am I curious about? There are definitely certain subject areas that don’t appeal to me and that I really don’t care to learn more about. There are other areas, like technology, that I am more curious about and am motivated to learn, because one must in order to function in today’s society. I love reading books and learning about new cultures and places. I love historical fiction.
Most especially I love learning people’s stories. I fully believe that we are our stories, and our main purpose should be sharing those stories with each other. I love my story—with all its ups and downs – and I want others to know and appreciate my story. I also hope they might benefit in some way from hearing and understanding my story. Likewise, I want to know their real story – not just some superficial facts about them, but the real elements that have made them who they are. One of the reasons I feel so close to my WISDOM sisters is that we know each other’s stories very deeply. We have spent many years sharing and learning them.
I am very curious about the jazz style and curious to see how good a jazz pianist and singer I can become. I am especially eager to become a good improvisor. I want to practice the notion that “There is no right way.” How could there be a right way to improvise? That makes no sense whatsoever. I need to put my fear of not “doing it right” behind me and just have fun “playing.” My mentor, the late Wesley Balk, would applaud that goal, for he said, “In play we trust; if we’re serious, we must.” Play was the cornerstone of his teachings about singing and acting.
Children are curious, and I want to regain as much of my child’s mind as possible. Jesus said we had to become as little children, and he meant we had to be open, even to miracles. Children easily believe in magic, whereas adults are always skeptical and jaded. A curio cabinet is a cabinet with many clever little objects in it, usually related to someone’s memories or to their story. I remember several of my aunts had curio holders on their walls -- those old-fashioned carved wooden crescent moons with a star beside them. There was a lower shelf and a little staircase that led to an upper shelf. They had the daintiest things on these shelves, and I found them fascinating. Since I was an only child for six years, I spent a lot of time exploring and making exciting discoveries on my own.
Now I am old, but I hope not jaded. I still want to undertake new pastimes that stimulate and intrigue me. We have begun a new year, and I am curious about what exciting things it will bring to my life. Let the fun begin!
What are you curious about?
BLOG POST #17 – JANUARY 16, 2021
WHAT DO YOU REALLY WANT TO DO?
In July of 2014 I watched a 16-minute documentary entitled Slomo. The movie tells the story of a neurologist, John Kitchin, who heeded the words of a nonagenarian, who told him the secret of longevity was simply to “Do what you want to!” Dr. Kitchin quit his job and his life as a successful neurosurgeon and took up his passion – roller skating – on San Diego’s Pacific Beach. He engaged in this beloved activity daily and was known on the boardwalk as “Slomo.”
Now skating may not be everyone’s cup of tea, and certainly not everyone has the financial resources to support oneself, like the wealth that Dr. Kitchin amassed during his years as a self-described financially successful neurosurgeon. But the premise did make me pause and think about my own life. I asked myself the question, “Am I doing what I really want to do?”
On the surface it seems the answer might be yes. I am retired from a job I loved with a passion. I have a pleasant life, and I engage in a number of activities that I enjoy, many of them music-related. I have numerous friends., and we enjoy doing many things together (when we are not in a pandemic). I have a comfortable home in a beautiful part of the country. I have enough financial resources to maintain my basic comfort.
Going to a deeper-than-surface level, however, I realize that I now have only two goals in life:
1. I want to keep growing as a person and becoming the best person I can be.
2. I want to use whatever wisdom and skills I have gained to help others navigate this world more easily.
So what, I asked myself, should I be doing that I am not doing now? Now that I have just turned 80, how can I make the most of the years I have left? If I could do anything in the world, what is it that I really want to do?
One of the things that has become increasingly important to me is the sharing of stories with other people. We are who we are because of our life stories, and we learn to know and appreciate each other through the sharing of this deeply significant information. Therefore, one thing I really want to do is hear more of other people’s stories and also to share my own story more fully more often.
Another thing I really desire to do at this time in my life is unburden myself of possessions that were once beloved, but are now no longer useful or needed. This is a very difficult practice, and I am succeeding in small steps. It is quite freeing to have less “stuff” to worry about. After all, we come into this world with nothing, and we will go out with nothing, so perhaps we don’t need as much material wealth as we once thought.
Ultimately, I want to become better at honoring my gut feelings about things, instead of always acting according to my “head wisdom.” I believe that my inner self truly knows what I should be doing, what I really want to do, if I will just listen. I believe that happiness lies in being our authentic self, rather than the false self the world has helped us create.
What is it that you really want to do? Do you have the courage to go and do it?
BLOG POST #18 – FEBRUARY 12, 2021
WHY DON’T I MAKE MORE MISTAKES?
I don’t like to make mistakes. I’m sure I’m not the only person who feels this way. It’s just that some of us are more obsessed about this than others. My father was one such person. Generally speaking, he did not like to take risks or try new things. Rather he preferred the tried and true – the familiar. How often I remember him fussing at my mother for trying out new recipes. He would say, “The food you already cook is perfectly good enough. We don’t need any of those new radio recipes.” My mother, always eager to find something new and interesting to serve, mostly ignored him and cooked what she wanted to. I used to think his behavior was strange; yet later I realized it was rooted in a deep-seated fear of failure. Our society teaches us early on that we must succeed – that failure is bad. We must get good grades, not failing grades. We must make the team, win the honors. The pressure can be daunting, even for very young children. Somehow we are never good enough unless we are perfect, or at least exceptional.
I suspect I have always been reluctant to make mistakes. As a person who identifies as a Type 1 on the Enneagram, I acknowledge that one of the main characteristics of this personality type is that we want to be good and do the right thing. if something is wrong, we want to fix it. If someone else is not doing the right thing, we want to show them the error of their ways. We often assume our way is the right or best way, and we feel we have a duty to help others do better. And of course, we can be pretty hard on ourselves when we do not live up to our own impossibly high standards. Needless to say, overcoming this attitude has been a major life challenge for me.
One of my favorite authors, SARK, has often written in her books, “Make more mistakes.” She advocates this, because she believes we all need to stretch our boundaries in order to grow, and if we do a lot of things we’ve never done before, we are bound to make mistakes. SARK believes this is a good thing, because it means we are taking risks and getting out of our ruts.
Probably the most cutting-edge recent challenge for me in this regard is taking up the study of jazz piano. I come from a long tradition of classical music study, where we musicians are trained to play and sing exactly what is on the page. In jazz, one of the most important characteristics of the genre is improvisation – making things up as you go along. This can be very terrifying for those of us who have always felt we were in control. We knew what to do, and we did it. Now the rules are all different, and we don’t know how to let go and fly by the seat of our pants. Sometimes when I improvise, I worry if I am doing it right – as if there were a “right” way to improvise.
It actually can sometimes be hard to make mistakes. I have used this as a teaching technique with my students for years. I will invite them to make as many mistakes as they want in their performance, and they find this hard to do, which helps them realize how silly it is to be paralyzed by the fear of making mistakes. Our minds are funny things.
Wouldn’t it be a brave thing if I would get up in the morning and say, “I wonder how many mistakes I can make today”? Then I could try a few new things and learn from my efforts. At the very least I could view any mistakes I make with a more sympathetic eye. Stuff happens – just deal with it and keep going.
Some would say there is no such thing as mistakes. What we may call a mistake is actually just a learning opportunity. We have found out one way that doesn’t work, and we will know to try a different approach next time. At the very least we should not beat ourselves up over our mistakes. We should love ourselves anyway and accept our flaws and foibles.
So what mistakes are you going to make today?
Greetings, one and all! Welcome to my blog, or should I say my latest adventure! I have actually been thinking off and on for many years about writing a blog, but the time never quite seemed right. Now it seems the Muse is tapping me on the shoulder, and the Universe is sending me signs that it is time to begin. As I will explain in my blog posts, I am really writing for myself, but I won't mind a bit if you enjoy reading my thoughts and/or find that you identify with my story. My only plan is to have fun in the process. Because I am an Enneagram Type 1, I function best in structure. So I have set myself the goal of writing this blog for six months with a minimum of one post per week. That's 26 posts, though I can write more if the Muse insists. Thank you in advance for reading. If you would like to comment on anything, please visit my Facebook page (Diane McCullough Clark), as I will also be posting the blog link there, or email me at granddiva@charter.net . And now here we go!!!
BLOG POST #1 -- NOVEMBER 6, 2020
SO WHAT DO I HAVE TO SHOW FOR IT?
Perhaps you are wondering why I chose the title SO WHAT DO I HAVE TO SHOW FOR IT? for my new blog. Well, it happens that I turned 80 years old last month, so I have been thinking a lot about what it means to have lived this long and what I can claim to have accomplished in my life thus far. Being given 8 decades is a precious gift (not available to all), and it seems like we ought to have put it to good use, doesn’t it? So the obvious question for me is SO WHAT DO I HAVE TO SHOW FOR IT?
I have an entire wall in my home that is plastered with framed certificates: my high school and university diplomas, my memberships in various organizations, my honors and awards. I also have a staircase wall that is covered with photographs of music teachers, my own voice students, and various musical and theatrical performances. I love looking at all these things, because they make me feel proud of myself, but also because each item reminds me of a period of time when I was involved in a particular activity and engaged with a specific group of people. For example, when I view my master’s degree diploma from Indiana University, I am immediately catapulted back to the years 1966-1968 -- the joy of living in beautiful Bloomington (my first time to live outside the South), my fellow music students at IU (some who are still lifelong friends), the excellent and demanding professors who taught me, the plethora of live concerts of familiar and less well known music that inspired me, the romances I enjoyed, the fears I dealt with, and the particular ways in which I grew as a person during that two-year period. Some of the friendships were very surprising, such as the one I enjoyed with #47, one of the IU security officers who patrolled the building where I was a Resident Assistant. Another counselor and I befriended this sweet man, and he later invited us to dine in his home with his wife and children – a lovely evening. He also stopped by once to visit me when he and his family passed through Lubbock, TX, on a western vacation.
Thus, looking at the certificates & photographs is satisfying, not so much to be able to tally up my achievements, but rather because they represent specific times of my life when I was engaged in using my gifts to help make the world a better place. That happens to be the main purpose of life, as far as I can tell. So as I look at my life and say, “I have lived for 80 years, so what do I have to show for it?”, I see that it is not about external rewards or markers, though these have their place. It is much more about the people I have encountered and the exchanges we have enjoyed -- the various ways in which we have touched each other’s lives. From this perspective, I see that I am very rich indeed.
I also happen to believe that we are all living our stories, and that we are meant to share our stories with each other and learn from one another’s experiences. As someone once said, “You can’t live long enough to make all the mistakes yourself.” So I can learn to know you by hearing your story, and I can learn to know myself better by sharing my story. Best of all, we can learn that, though the details may differ, our stories show we have much common ground as human beings. So I look forward to sharing bits of my story with you, and we will see where it takes us. I am excited!
BLOG POST #2 – NOVEMBER 7, 2020
WHY SHOULD I BLOG?
I did it! I started a blog. I have been thinking about doing this for a long time, so why did I finally decide to take the plunge? It all started with a wonderful series of interviews presented recently by life coach Elena Armijo entitled “Disrupt the World Now – Powerful Women for Change” (which I will be mentioning again in later blog posts). The very first woman interviewed mentioned that she had been helped by a company called StrengthsFinder, so of course, I had to look them up on the internet. Once on their site, I decided to take their free High5Test, which is a series of questions designed to help you to identify your top 5 strengths. I know myself pretty well after 80 years, so most of the answers did not come as a surprise to me. The test said my strengths are: 1. Self-believer. 2. Empathizer. 3. Optimist. 4. Strategist. 5. Storyteller.
I felt these designations were accurate, but the one that stood out for me was “Storyteller.” I started to reflect on that label and try to pinpoint ways in which I am a storyteller in my life. Of course, as a singer, actor, and singing teacher, I spend a lot of time focusing on the stories found in songs and plays and the ways we can communicate those stories and their inherent emotions to an audience. But I do believe that personal stories are very important, and as I mentioned in my last post, I think we learn a lot from sharing our own story and hearing the stories of others. It may even be why we are here! I am very proud of my former Rhodes College student Helen Moses, who has just published her own story in a book entitled Voice Unleashed. Helen’s book recounts her experiences in the quest to step up and have her authentic voice heard.
I, too, have had good intentions in the past about writing a personal book – more than one book, in fact. But as I considered this again, the blog idea presented itself to me, and I liked it for several reasons. First, I am good with short forms. I am a lifelong poet and I enjoy expressing myself with imagery and powerful emotions in very few words. Second, I have recently fallen in love with flash fiction, and this past year I have had 25 of my 100-word stories published by the online publisher Friday Flash Fiction. Third, I am a disciple of the Kaizen philosophy of taking small steps to achieve large goals. And so it made sense to me that a blog would be a good place to start sharing more of my story. I already had a website and a Facebook presence, so it seemed like an easy path.
Of course, we all have fears about putting ourselves “out there.” What if no one reads my blog or if people think it’s stupid or don’t like what I have to say? But the answer to those questions ultimately is that it doesn’t matter, because I am doing this project for myself. I like to write, and I am my own favorite subject, so what else do I need? If anyone else reads and enjoys, then it is just icing on the cake.
One of my all-time favorite quotations is attributed to the German poet Johann Wolfgang von Goethe:
“Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative and creation, there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves, too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favor all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings, and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now.”
Once I had decided to blog and made a blog page ready on my website, I was delighted to receive on Facebook the offer of a free book on how to become a successful blogger! :-) Coincidence? I like to think that was just a little pat on the back from the Universe, giving me permission to go ahead with my plans. If we hold our desire in our heart and take the leap of faith, the help we need will be forthcoming.
In the interest of space-saving, some blog posts have been removed. If you are just dying to read the missing items, please contact me at granddiva@charter.net and I will help you avoid this death. The missing posts include:
BLOG POST #3 -- NOVEMBER 8, 2020 -- WHAT IS MY SUPERPOWER?
BLOG POST #4 – NOVEMBER 11, 2020 -- WHY DOES SAYING GOODBYE TO MUSIC RECORDINGS FEEL LIKE I AM CUTTING MY ARM OFF?
BLOG POST #5 – NOVEMBER 12, 2020 -- WHAT HAVE I LEARNED ON THE PATH TO PATIENCE?
BLOG POST #6 – NOVEMBER 14, 2020 -- WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE PRIVILEGED?
BLOG POST #7 – NOVEMBER 15, 2020 -- WHY DID GOD THINK I NEEDED SO MANY THERAPISTS IN MY LIFE?
BLOG POST #8 -- NOVEMBER 18, 2020 -- WHEN DO I GET THAT OLD FEELING?
BLOG POST #9 – NOVEMBER 20, 2020 -- HOW DO I WANT TO BE REMEMBERED?
BLOG POST #10 – NOVEMBER 21, 2020 -- WHAT DOES MY HANDWRITING REVEAL ABOUT ME?
BLOG POST #11 – NOVEMBER 22, 2020
WHY DO I FEEL LIKE CRYING TODAY?
I did just cry, actually. I watched the online worship service from my church, Central United Methodist, and it filled up my heart. The organ music was spectacular and inspiring as always. The choir sang, masked and socially distanced throughout the sanctuary, the stirring anthem “For All the Saints.” The sermon was powerful and gave me a lot to reflect on this week. As I sit here and think about my life, my tears are just at the edge.
Fortunately, I am not ashamed to cry. That is one of the great lessons I learned from my precious mother Muriel, who cried often over many things. As a child, whenever I would get upset to see her crying, she would say, “Crying is a good thing. It helps you let your worries and your sadness out. And you can cry when you’re happy, too, because it makes you feel so good.” What a blessing she gave me with those words! Now, like her, I tear up at the least little thing. Decades ago, before I gave up watching TV, there was a precious ad, where a darling little boy said pitifully, “I can’t find my socks!” I cried every time I saw it. My tears threshold is very close to the surface for both sadness and laughter.
So why am I crying today? As I mentioned in Blog Post #8, I stay pretty closely in touch with my feelings. And it seems there is a lot to cry about in our world today. In my very closest circle, I am lonely for my friends and family, though I am grateful that I can connect with them online and by phone. I miss the three choirs I normally sing in; my life is very impoverished when I can’t make music with others. I am sad that the upcoming holidays, which are always difficult for people who live alone, will be even more lonely than usual.
Looking beyond my four walls, I hurt for my friends and everyone who has been stricken with Covid or who has suffered economically from the shutdown of their work. I hurt for those who cannot be with their loved ones and for those who have lost loved ones to this horrible disease. I feel sad that I cannot help more, because I have to stay “safe.”
Beyond my circle of loved ones, I cry for my country. Tears of happiness that we have elected a new president, who will return dignity and compassion to the White House. Tears of sorrow at the way some people are behaving about the election results and attacking the foundations of our democracy. More tears about the challenges we face ahead in social justice, climate concerns, and economic wellbeing. And lastly tears of hope that somehow Love will win, because Love is the most powerful force in the world, and there are those active in this world who truly bear Love for their fellow human beings. Every day I read stories of kindness and good deeds that make me cry with joy. I thank God for the gift of tears that help us get in touch with what is in our hearts. As the song says, “Cry Me a River!” -- a beautiful river of love and compassion for all our sisters and brothers, on this planet and beyond.
BLOG POST #12 – NOVEMBER 25, 2020
WHY DID I WANT TO GO TO CLOWN SCHOOL?
Only a few of my friends know this, but I have always wanted to go to Clown School. When I say “always,” I actually am not sure when this desire first took hold. No doubt the earliest seeds were sown when I went to the circus as a young child and laughed at the crazy clowns there. They always looked like they were having a barrel of fun, and they made everyone else laugh, too. I have always loved to laugh.
Somewhere along the way, I discovered there were schools you could attend to learn how to be a clown. It had never occurred to me that such a thing was possible, or even needed. Wasn’t it just a natural thing that someone could be funny and make people laugh? Evidently not. The existence of Clown Schools implied that there was more to clowning than that.
At any rate, I collected brochures and other information from several institutions of clowning, and I dreamed of attending to learn what it was all about. Unfortunately, my dream never materialized. The closest I ever got was dressing up as a clown and attending a women’s study group one evening. We were studying Julia Cameron’s wonderful book The Artist’s Way, and our assignment was to come as a character or identity we had always wanted to be. So I went as a clown. My friends loved it – and so did I. It was very freeing.
So why did I want to be a clown? As I said, I love to laugh, and over time I have learned that laughter is one of the most beneficial commodities in creating good health in people. There is even a practice called “laughter therapy.” You can read accounts of many people who have used laughter to heal themselves from various serious physical diseases.
While training as a singer/actor, I encountered the fact that it is necessary for actors to be able to laugh and cry on command. I learned that the acts of laughing and crying can be performed physically without actually having the accompanying emotional motivation, and it is also true that if the act itself is performed for just a bit of time, it generates the real emotion. It also happens that when I perform the laughter action, my body doesn’t know the difference between fake laughter and real laughter, and it generates the desired endorphins anyway, which are healing for my system! I once went through a period when I would purposely laugh for 3 minutes a day, and I have never felt better! I would start with just the physical act, and in no time at all I was truly doubled over with sincere humor. When I find myself feeling blue now, I sometimes do my laughter therapy. It’s easy, quick, and effective. Try it sometime.
Anyway, back to Clown School and the reasons I wanted to go. Clowns symbolize for me making people happy. They are willing to make themselves silly and vulnerable in order to win people over and get them to laugh. Since laughter is healing, one could say that clowns are true healers. Since childhood I have been interested in healing, and I have studied extensively about my gift of music as a healing art. Clowns teach us humility, too. They have no false dignity. They are just openly themselves, and they offer themselves to people freely, warts and all. I believe this is how we ought to be with our fellow humans. There is something great about clown make-up, too. It is so exaggerated that it gives us permission to be someone different, which we are not always willing to do. Sometimes we are afraid of stepping outside our system of limiting beliefs. Dressing as a clown can allow us a great deal of freedom.
Finally, clowns have the ability to find humor in the ordinary. I am a firm believer that if we can maintain our sense of humor, we can get through just about anything in this life. In my book, laughter = good health.
I did sort of get my wish about 5 years ago, when I attended a clown workshop here in Traverse City. The visiting clown, Don Colliver, sent out a notice, and I decided “Why not?” It sounded like fun, and I knew I would learn something. It turned out to be a delightful evening – a small group because of the late notice – me and 4 young dancers. They, of course, were much freer with using their bodies than I (at age 75!), but I had the clear advantage when it came to expressing freely with my voice. It was fun to observe how we each met the varied challenges Don presented to us. A good time was had by all, and I learned several tools that I later used in my barbershop chorus and quartet coaching.
Chances are good that I will never get to a real Clown School. However, I am thinking that life itself is a pretty good substitute. We can find laughter in many places, especially if we go looking. Wouldn’t it be fun if we just set ourselves the task of making one person laugh today? What a healing gift that would be!
BLOG POST #13 – NOVEMBER 27, 2020
WHY DO I LOVE FRUITCAKE?
I just finished baking the first batch of fruitcakes, which means Christmas has officially begun at my house. Fruitcake, it seems, has become quite the controversial topic at holiday time. Some people adore and swear by it (like me), and others seem to hate and make fun of it (Sad).
I like fruitcake because it tastes good. I love all the fruits, nuts, and spices that go into it, and the slight tang of brandy or rum when it is soaked in spirits. Fruitcake was a staple in my mother’s family, and the original recipe has been perfected and modernized a bit through the years, but it is still as yummy as ever. When I was a child growing up, we knew it was the Christmas season when my mother start baking the fruitcakes. Most children gave their school teachers presents at Christmas time, and I always gave my teachers homemade fruitcakes. Needless to say, they were thrilled. In fact, my 7th grade home room and Tennessee history teacher Mr. Brown (What was his first name? Carlton?) liked his so much that even after I left him to go to 8th grade, he asked me if I thought he could stay on my mother’s fruitcake list. That tickled my mother so much that of course she kept him on the list, and he got two more fruitcakes before I left Snowden Junior High School. Clever man!
I of course love to make fruitcakes because they make me feel close to my mother. All who knew her knew that her middle name was FOOD, and she was certainly one of the best cooks around. She loved making food for people. Without a doubt she was an Enneagram Type 2, the Caregiver! At any rate, when I make her fruitcake recipe, I feel she is smiling down upon me with love and pride, and I am flooded with memories of happy family times.
I am fascinated by fruitcakes in general. I have tried out several other recipes over the years – none quite as good as Mother’s, of course. But it is nice to have variety. I got an especially good recipe from one of my Traverse City hairdressers, Marna Klaft, and I make it every few years along with my regular one. I even enjoy “store-bought” fruitcakes, if there are no homemade varieties handy. I especially enjoyed Debbie Macomber’s novel Glad Tidings: There’s Something About Christmas -- a story about a female, fruitcake-hating reporter who has to interview three finalists in a fruitcake contest, and naturally she falls in love with the pilot who ferries her around to visit the three bakers. She also learns a lot of life wisdom from the three ladies. I kept the book and have made all three of the winning recipes! In fact, I think I will read that book again this weekend! :-)
I like to send fruitcakes when I have to mail gifts to people, because they keep and travel well. I always have to keep at least one cake to enjoy myself as a treat throughout the holidays. They have been known to last until March, tasting good to the last crumb.
I feel sorry for the people who claim not to like fruitcake. In my opinion, they are missing a good thing. Maybe they have never tasted a really good fruitcake. I have had people tell me they never liked fruitcake till they ate mine, which is a lovely compliment to my Grandmother Cornelia’s recipe. Ah well, as we know, it’s different strokes for different folks, and I try not to give my precious fruitcakes to people unless I know they will be appreciated.
Tomorrow I will soak the cakes in spirits and wrap them to absorb the flavor for a couple of weeks. Then they will be prime for eating and enjoying. Can’t wait!
What’s your special Christmas treat?
BLOG POST #14 -- DECEMBER 6, 2020
WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE COMFORT FOOD?
In my 2020 Christmas letter, I enumerated some of my pandemic activities this year, including this: “I have cooked and eaten a lot of comfort food.” It seems the whole world has been doing that during the past 9 months. I can remember back in April when I couldn’t find any flour on the grocery shelves, and even the websites of King Arthur and General Mills said “Out of Stock.” Everybody was at home baking, not just because they had to stay home and had the extra time, but because we all needed the comfort. Even in non-pandemic times, we turn to comfort food when we are sad or upset about things in our lives. And especially when we are sick, we have our favorite comfort foods that somehow seem to have special curative powers.
I happen to love to eat, and thank goodness I did inherit at least some of my mother’s love for cooking. There was nothing she loved better than feeding a multitude of people her delicious, always-made-from-scratch creations. I don’t like to feed multitudes, but I do enjoy cooking certain dishes, and when I do cook, it makes me feel very close to (and approved by!) my sweet mother.
I am definitely a foodie, in the sense that I love and appreciate tasty, well-prepared, and well-presented food. I can enjoy dinner in the finest elegant restaurant, and I enjoy equally having burgers and chili around a campfire or catfish and hush puppies at a fish fry. It is hard for me to name my favorite foods, though I certainly know I have a pernicious sweet tooth, which I inherited from several paternal aunts. I would also be hard-pressed to name my favorite comfort foods, though I can certainly talk about some of them.
Since I grew up with these, I enjoy sandwiches made from peanut butter and jelly, tunafish salad, and that great Southern staple, pimiemto cheese. (They are specially comforting when made on white bread!). I also love a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of Campbell’s tomato soup. Although I love a good homemade tomato soup, it does not comfort me like the cheap and easy combo that my Mother served me and my neighbor friends through the years. Mother also fed us potato soup when we were sick, because that’s what her mother did. I love to make and eat potato soup, and I have a great, new recipe going in the crockpot even as I write this.
It’s holiday time, and I always make fruitcakes to give at Christmas, because that’s what my mother did. Her family also enjoyed plum pudding with bourbon sauce, whereas my father’s family’s special holiday treat was ambrosia made with those hard-to-obtain citrus fruits. (Growing up as a privileged city child, I never understood why my parents though an apple or an orange in a Christmas stocking was such a great treat.)
Of course, I love making my mother’s famous pocketbook rolls and her yummy cornbread. I also love any kind of bread baking, and have several wonderful bread cookbooks. I especially enjoy fiddling with fermented foods, so I delight in using various sourdough recipes for many delicious loaves. Also brandied fruit (baked into cakes or topping vanilla ice cream) and Amish Friendship Bread Starter, which I most often use for my favorite biscotti (in dozens of flavor combos).
Another of my favorite foods is cheesecake, so I enjoy using my beautiful cookbook The Joy of Cheesecake, aa well as many other great cheesecake recipes I have collected over the years.
It’s almost New Year’s Day, and every good Southerner knows to eat black-eyed peas for good luck on Jan. 1. Those can be a little hard to come by in northern Michigan, but I have perfected a delicious recipe for black-eyed pea and black bean soup, which serves my purposes quite nicely.
I could go on and on – I do love food after all. But you might enjoy making your own list and/or even cooking some of the foods that help you remember those special times and people in your life. That’s why they are so comforting, after all.
What’s your favorite comfort food?
BLOG POST #15 – DECEMBER 14, 2020
WHAT DOORS ARE OPENING AND CLOSING IN YOUR LIFE?
Last night I learned on Facebook that a lifelong dear Memphis friend had died – Martha Spruell Pipkin. Martha was six years older than me, and I first met her when I was a teen-aged voice student in the studio of my first teacher, with whom Martha also studied singing. Over the 65 years of our friendship, Martha and I enjoyed and made much beautiful music together. I also spent several years “enjoying” exercising in her fitness program called “Shape Up with Martha.” I knew her husband and children, and I have many happy Martha memories. So, as I was pondering her death, I had the thought that a door has closed in my life. Then I realized that Martha is the last friend I had who also remembered our mutual Houston friend Bob Hellums. Now I will have no one to remember Bob with, so that door is also closed. Since I am now 80 years old, experiencing the deaths of friends is becoming a more frequent thing, and it will only get worse until it is my turn to forsake this mortal coil. Each time I lose someone, a door slams shut on a part of my life.
We experience closures of other kinds as well. My dear friend Melanie Stoll has just left Traverse City to live in Florida with her new husband. I am thrilled for them, of course, but sad for myself that I have lost my partner in crime. We made much fun music together, particularly in our jazz duo Vive le Jazz!, and we shared a great many interests. Of course, our friendship will take on a new, long-distance form, but the door has closed on our close, in-person connection.
The truth is that the doors of our life are opening and closing all the time. Something old ends, something new begins. William Bridges talks about this in his excellent book Transitions. He speaks of the period of chaos that we often experience between the end of one thing and the beginning of the next, and he points out that this nebulous period can be one of our most productive, creative times.
Looking at my own life, I see all kinds of doors. Some are wide open, showing things that I am enjoying fully. And no doubt there are some things that I am struggling with as well. Some doors have closed, never to reopen. Some new doors are in various stages of opening, such as two particularly delightful new friendships I am nurturing. There is a famous saying, “When one door closes, another one opens.” Some people give God the credit, as in “When one door closes, God opens another one.” However, I think God expects a little more self-starting from us. When we experience a loss in life, we must grieve it appropriately, but then we must take responsibility for seeking the new thing to which we are called to devote our time and energy --the new experience that will bring us happiness. And when we find it, we must nurture that new thing, just as a gardener carefully nurtures plants in the garden. We may have our memories of previous beautiful gardens, but this garden will not become beautiful without our love and attention. We may have many wonderful memories of our experiences behind the closed doors, but we must make the effort to pull open the new doors and nourish the life that calls to us there. We are designed to remain in the flow of life for however long we are blessed to live on this earthly plane.
What doors are closing and opening in your life?
BLOG POST #16 – JANUARY 3, 2021
DID CURIOSITY KILL THE CAT?
A well-known proverb insists that “Curiosity killed the cat.” Its implication is that curiosity is a bad thing – dangerous even. I, however, think curiosity is an extremely admirable trait. Babies are curious. They encounter something new and can’t wait to find out all about how it works. They want to explore it, especially with their senses – touch and taste. My cat is curious. She wants to go everywhere and check out everything, especially the places she is forbidden to go.
The first trump in the Tarot deck is #0 – the Fool. Someone’s first thought may be to look down on this figure for being foolish, ignorant, or stupid, but that is not the right of it. The archetype of the Fool is the story of innocence -- humans in the Garden of Eden. We come out of the womb as a blank slate. Then people immediately start writing on our slate, and we have no control over that for the longest time. As we grow older, we sometimes become fearful and are hesitant to explore anything new or unfamiliar. Or we think we know all we need to know and don’t care to stretch our boundaries. My father was one who hesitated to try new things, and I believe this was from a deep-seated fear of failure. My mother, however, was always eager to have new adventures and learn new things. She was very gifted and creative, and she was not afraid to make mistakes and learn from them. Needless to say, my parents’ personality differences made for some interesting times in our house.
So what am I curious about? There are definitely certain subject areas that don’t appeal to me and that I really don’t care to learn more about. There are other areas, like technology, that I am more curious about and am motivated to learn, because one must in order to function in today’s society. I love reading books and learning about new cultures and places. I love historical fiction.
Most especially I love learning people’s stories. I fully believe that we are our stories, and our main purpose should be sharing those stories with each other. I love my story—with all its ups and downs – and I want others to know and appreciate my story. I also hope they might benefit in some way from hearing and understanding my story. Likewise, I want to know their real story – not just some superficial facts about them, but the real elements that have made them who they are. One of the reasons I feel so close to my WISDOM sisters is that we know each other’s stories very deeply. We have spent many years sharing and learning them.
I am very curious about the jazz style and curious to see how good a jazz pianist and singer I can become. I am especially eager to become a good improvisor. I want to practice the notion that “There is no right way.” How could there be a right way to improvise? That makes no sense whatsoever. I need to put my fear of not “doing it right” behind me and just have fun “playing.” My mentor, the late Wesley Balk, would applaud that goal, for he said, “In play we trust; if we’re serious, we must.” Play was the cornerstone of his teachings about singing and acting.
Children are curious, and I want to regain as much of my child’s mind as possible. Jesus said we had to become as little children, and he meant we had to be open, even to miracles. Children easily believe in magic, whereas adults are always skeptical and jaded. A curio cabinet is a cabinet with many clever little objects in it, usually related to someone’s memories or to their story. I remember several of my aunts had curio holders on their walls -- those old-fashioned carved wooden crescent moons with a star beside them. There was a lower shelf and a little staircase that led to an upper shelf. They had the daintiest things on these shelves, and I found them fascinating. Since I was an only child for six years, I spent a lot of time exploring and making exciting discoveries on my own.
Now I am old, but I hope not jaded. I still want to undertake new pastimes that stimulate and intrigue me. We have begun a new year, and I am curious about what exciting things it will bring to my life. Let the fun begin!
What are you curious about?
BLOG POST #17 – JANUARY 16, 2021
WHAT DO YOU REALLY WANT TO DO?
In July of 2014 I watched a 16-minute documentary entitled Slomo. The movie tells the story of a neurologist, John Kitchin, who heeded the words of a nonagenarian, who told him the secret of longevity was simply to “Do what you want to!” Dr. Kitchin quit his job and his life as a successful neurosurgeon and took up his passion – roller skating – on San Diego’s Pacific Beach. He engaged in this beloved activity daily and was known on the boardwalk as “Slomo.”
Now skating may not be everyone’s cup of tea, and certainly not everyone has the financial resources to support oneself, like the wealth that Dr. Kitchin amassed during his years as a self-described financially successful neurosurgeon. But the premise did make me pause and think about my own life. I asked myself the question, “Am I doing what I really want to do?”
On the surface it seems the answer might be yes. I am retired from a job I loved with a passion. I have a pleasant life, and I engage in a number of activities that I enjoy, many of them music-related. I have numerous friends., and we enjoy doing many things together (when we are not in a pandemic). I have a comfortable home in a beautiful part of the country. I have enough financial resources to maintain my basic comfort.
Going to a deeper-than-surface level, however, I realize that I now have only two goals in life:
1. I want to keep growing as a person and becoming the best person I can be.
2. I want to use whatever wisdom and skills I have gained to help others navigate this world more easily.
So what, I asked myself, should I be doing that I am not doing now? Now that I have just turned 80, how can I make the most of the years I have left? If I could do anything in the world, what is it that I really want to do?
One of the things that has become increasingly important to me is the sharing of stories with other people. We are who we are because of our life stories, and we learn to know and appreciate each other through the sharing of this deeply significant information. Therefore, one thing I really want to do is hear more of other people’s stories and also to share my own story more fully more often.
Another thing I really desire to do at this time in my life is unburden myself of possessions that were once beloved, but are now no longer useful or needed. This is a very difficult practice, and I am succeeding in small steps. It is quite freeing to have less “stuff” to worry about. After all, we come into this world with nothing, and we will go out with nothing, so perhaps we don’t need as much material wealth as we once thought.
Ultimately, I want to become better at honoring my gut feelings about things, instead of always acting according to my “head wisdom.” I believe that my inner self truly knows what I should be doing, what I really want to do, if I will just listen. I believe that happiness lies in being our authentic self, rather than the false self the world has helped us create.
What is it that you really want to do? Do you have the courage to go and do it?
BLOG POST #18 – FEBRUARY 12, 2021
WHY DON’T I MAKE MORE MISTAKES?
I don’t like to make mistakes. I’m sure I’m not the only person who feels this way. It’s just that some of us are more obsessed about this than others. My father was one such person. Generally speaking, he did not like to take risks or try new things. Rather he preferred the tried and true – the familiar. How often I remember him fussing at my mother for trying out new recipes. He would say, “The food you already cook is perfectly good enough. We don’t need any of those new radio recipes.” My mother, always eager to find something new and interesting to serve, mostly ignored him and cooked what she wanted to. I used to think his behavior was strange; yet later I realized it was rooted in a deep-seated fear of failure. Our society teaches us early on that we must succeed – that failure is bad. We must get good grades, not failing grades. We must make the team, win the honors. The pressure can be daunting, even for very young children. Somehow we are never good enough unless we are perfect, or at least exceptional.
I suspect I have always been reluctant to make mistakes. As a person who identifies as a Type 1 on the Enneagram, I acknowledge that one of the main characteristics of this personality type is that we want to be good and do the right thing. if something is wrong, we want to fix it. If someone else is not doing the right thing, we want to show them the error of their ways. We often assume our way is the right or best way, and we feel we have a duty to help others do better. And of course, we can be pretty hard on ourselves when we do not live up to our own impossibly high standards. Needless to say, overcoming this attitude has been a major life challenge for me.
One of my favorite authors, SARK, has often written in her books, “Make more mistakes.” She advocates this, because she believes we all need to stretch our boundaries in order to grow, and if we do a lot of things we’ve never done before, we are bound to make mistakes. SARK believes this is a good thing, because it means we are taking risks and getting out of our ruts.
Probably the most cutting-edge recent challenge for me in this regard is taking up the study of jazz piano. I come from a long tradition of classical music study, where we musicians are trained to play and sing exactly what is on the page. In jazz, one of the most important characteristics of the genre is improvisation – making things up as you go along. This can be very terrifying for those of us who have always felt we were in control. We knew what to do, and we did it. Now the rules are all different, and we don’t know how to let go and fly by the seat of our pants. Sometimes when I improvise, I worry if I am doing it right – as if there were a “right” way to improvise.
It actually can sometimes be hard to make mistakes. I have used this as a teaching technique with my students for years. I will invite them to make as many mistakes as they want in their performance, and they find this hard to do, which helps them realize how silly it is to be paralyzed by the fear of making mistakes. Our minds are funny things.
Wouldn’t it be a brave thing if I would get up in the morning and say, “I wonder how many mistakes I can make today”? Then I could try a few new things and learn from my efforts. At the very least I could view any mistakes I make with a more sympathetic eye. Stuff happens – just deal with it and keep going.
Some would say there is no such thing as mistakes. What we may call a mistake is actually just a learning opportunity. We have found out one way that doesn’t work, and we will know to try a different approach next time. At the very least we should not beat ourselves up over our mistakes. We should love ourselves anyway and accept our flaws and foibles.
So what mistakes are you going to make today?
