Thursday, August 31, 2017


As I grow older, I become more and more aware of the importance of habits--and the struggle of establishing them. When I look back on the times of my life when I've been most productive, the major common thread I see is that of habit and, to a slightly lesser degree, structure. Even when my days weren't structured by work or school, I had my own structure, a structure dictated by habit.

I think of some of the habits I've cultivated over the years, habits I don't have now:
  • Exercising early
  • Exercising daily
  • Writing every day
  • Walking every day
  • Running/jogging regularly
  • Praying at set times
  • Reading every night
  • Practicing piano every day
  • Weekend mornings alone at the coffee shop--much-needed times for writing and reflection
Those are just a few, and I didn't have all of those habits at the same time. But I had them, and I kept them, many of them for years and years.

Today the only habit I seem to have is obsessively checking social media ... for what reason, I have no idea. It's not like I learn anything new there, and while I like seeing pictures of friends, their kids, and their cats, it's not something that should require dozens of daily interruptions to my life. And it's not something I particularly enjoy anyway. So why do I do it?


I also have a habit of not moving. I sit down to work in the morning, and I barely move all day. Even if I get 4,000+ steps from morning exercise, I'll end the day with maybe 6,000.

Without question, I need to actively establish some habits again. At this point in my life, it should be easy; now that we've settled into our new home and Anne is at school, my days have some degree of structure. The focus now needs to be on (1) what habits I want to establish, and (2) where those habits should fit within the existing structure.

One hard thing is that I may not necessarily be able to do daily habits. I might have to practice piano every other day, or just three times a week. I might have to exercise only four times a week. This is hard for me because a daily schedule seems easier to stick to. Anything less makes me feel like I'm going to go adrift.

I'm already adrift. Right now I'm practicing piano once every couple of weeks. I have to remind myself that any improvement is good.

Habit. This will be the beginning of things getting better.

Thursday, August 24, 2017

Neglecting My Self

I am not in a good place.

I'm getting mean. Bitchy. Yelling and throwing things. I'm sleeping better than I was, but I'm not sleeping well. I don't seem to be able to maintain an exercise schedule. I feel crowded, like I've woken up buried deep inside my mummy sleeping bag and I can't find my way out. It's a suffocating, panic-inducing, hopeless feeling. I'm angry all the time. Or at least a lot of the time. When I hear the word "Mom," I just want to scream. "Can't you get your own waffle? Can't you get your own glass of water?" She can, and it frustrates the hell out of me that she wants to be waited on hand and foot, and that she still hasn't picked up her damn socks off the dining room floor.

We moved into this house nearly three months ago, and but I still don't feel moved in. My biggest mistake there was not taking a week of vacation to settle in, get things organized, get some routines in place. No, I took a single day off for moving, and then I was right back to full-time work the next day. And it hasn't stopped. Every few weeks I pack up everything and drive back to Asheville for two or three days of work, and then it's back to Augusta. Three and a half hours one way, each time. It's tiring me out. I just want to settle down. To rest. To relax for five minutes.

But the house is a wreck. There are wet clothes in the washing machine that have been there for three days now. I don't remember the last time I changed the sheets. And the shower is weirdly slippery because I haven't had a chance to clean it. There's always something else I have to do. And if I mention to someone that I need to clean house, I hear comments of, "You know, there are more important things in life than a clean house." As if I'm some sort of neat freak who thinks clean houses are important. Well, they are important, I think. I wouldn't know. I haven't had once since I lived with my parents.

I write about music and creativity a lot, so I might give the impression that I live this idyllic life with hours available each day for practicing. I don't. I'm lucky if I get 20 minutes several mornings a week on guitar, and if I play piano for an hour in a week, I'm doing better than usual. I haven't written a word of fiction or journaling in months. I used to retreat to coffee shops on a regular basis for a few hours of writing and thinking. No more. It's been at least a year since I've done that.

So I'm angry. I want to go on a long walk. I want to be in a routine where I get up each morning and work out. I've done that intermittently since I moved here, but it is so hard to wake up. And I know the old adage about it taking three weeks to create a habit. But three weeks of waking up at 4:45 a.m. when I can't sleep more than three or four hours a night is a recipe for madness after a while. So I don't know what to do there.

Years ago I worked through a book on priorities, goal setting, and scheduling, and it worked pretty well for me, so I dug that book out again. The first task was to write down the things that are important to me, and then to list them in order of priority.

I couldn't do it. The priorities--meaning the priorities I wish could be priorities--were not family, God, health, work, etc. They were making music and being in nature and making the world a better place. Not bad things, but not the things that are supposed to be the most important. I totally forgot my husband and my job in the first go-around. How sad is that? I'm listing the things that are most important to me, and I totally forget the man I'm married to and the career I spend forty to fifty hours a week pursuing.

Friendships was in the list, but, in truth, they aren't all that important to me. I'm generally pretty happy with having acquaintances and nothing more, but that's partly because I have my husband to share my deepest self with ... and he didn't even make the list.

Go figure. So I take him for granted, and that's a problem, too.

Health was near the bottom of the list because I didn't think of it sooner. My health is going to find itself in the garbage can if I don't do something soon. Yesterday all I ate was half a bag of Tostitos, washed down by a Diet Coke. I don't even drink Diet Coke anymore! I crave one a couple of times a year and allow myself to indulge. But yesterday I bought a whole six-pack because I was craving it, and I've had two already.

When it's time to make the bed or fold the clothes, I just feel sluggish and a little angry. It seems I'm running from task to task to task, and just as I sit down to relax or (gasp) play the piano, I hear, "Mom!" or "Nina!" and I have to run and help someone with something.

Have I mentioned my bills? That stack of unopened envelopes that's sitting on my desk, unopened because I'm scared to look at them?

I think I'm skirting the edge of that mucky, quicksand-filled ditch called Depression. I do not want to go there, so I need to pull myself together and figure things out. I just don't know when I'm going to find time to do that. It's 6:40 a.m. and I have to get Anne up and ready for school, and then there's work, and then there's ...

It just doesn't stop. My life is wonderful in so many ways--I live in a nice house, I have my health, I have a good family, I have two sweet kittens, I have a good job, I work with good people, etc., etc. But I am seriously about to lose my mind.

I'm going to try to work through this book on priorities and scheduling because it worked for me before, and maybe it'll work for me again. I might post updates here on the blog, or I might not. I don't know. I might delete this post before long, or I might not post it at all.

I hate feeling this overwhelmed. I shouldn't feel this overwhelmed.

Friday, August 18, 2017


Two weeks ago, my Aunt Joyce passed away. She was 94, but it was still a shock. I always thought she'd live to be at least 100. She played a big role in my life as I was growing up, but I hadn't seen her much since moving away 14 years ago. The last time I saw her alive was last Thanksgiving. I figured we'd see her again this Thanksgiving. But instead, I traveled to Louisiana last week for her funeral.

I flew back to Georgia Saturday and was home Saturday night and all of Sunday. On Monday, I was up at 4:30 a.m. and on the road by 5:00 to drive to Asheville for three days of work. On Wednesday, after a long day of work, I drove back to Augusta and got home around 9:00.

And then yesterday, Thursday, was a full day of working from home.

I'm tired. And sad. I need a break.

Yesterday I had my acoustic guitar lesson, after two weeks of barely picking up my guitar. As I played through the simple pieces, I wondered if I really needed to be taking lessons for $20 a week--particularly since I'm also taking classical guitar lessons for $25 a week.

So, I think I'm doing to stop the acoustic lessons. It was something fun for the summer and my teacher taught me some very basic things that I needed to learn. But I'm tired. Right now I give up three to five lunch hours a week for either music lessons or regularly scheduled work meetings. And I'm tired.

I haven't gone back to voice lessons, and I don't know if I'm going to go back. Not that I don't want to, but ... I'm tired.

Am I sounding like a broken record? I feel like one. A broken something, at least.

Yesterday we went to Portman's, the local music store where Anne is taking drum lessons. While she was in her lesson, I plopped myself down in front of a Yamaha clavinova/keyboard and played for a half hour. I love to play so much, and I love that I can still make magic come out of my fingers, even though I don't play regularly. I'm thinking ... if I don't do acoustic guitar lessons and I don't do voice, then I would have time for one thing I really want to do: play piano at local assisted living centers and nursing homes.

And I can play guitar and sing whenever I want, just not formally.

But still, I'm just so tired. My new year's resolution was to get back in touch with my musical self, and I've done that, to a great degree. But it's taken a lot of time and effort (and money).

One thing I won't quit is my classical guitar lessons. I'm not good at it yet, but after a few years, I'll be able to enjoy it the way I enjoy piano. I'm certain of it. And it can bring me (and others) the same peace and joy that piano does.

So, this blog post doesn't really have a point, other than to tell my four readers that I'm tired. And kind of sad. And wishing I had more time for music, while also wondering why music has to take up so much of my time.

Friday, August 4, 2017

Time for a Music Update: Piano

With the move last month (or was it two months ago?), my musical life had a bit of an interruption. But now that I've been here for eight weeks, I've fallen into more of a routine. I've also started working out in the mornings (5:30 a.m.), so it's been a challenge to wake up, work out, and still make time for music practice before the rest of my family rises and shines.

Oh, and I have a music room now.

Let's talk about piano first, since it's my first and best love, and the only instrument that I can play with some skill. I recently discovered Sheet Music Direct, and oh my ... it has put a dent in my "fun money" account (I don't have a "fun money" account, actually. But if I did, it would have put a dent in it.)

I've decided that I want to find a few nursing homes or assisted living facilities where I can play piano for an hour or so a few times a month, doing something of a rotation every other week. With that thought in mind, I started finding songs that would be appropriate for that. Of course I have a decent repertoire of hymns, and a few simpler classical pieces that I learned as a child and never forgot. I also have the Bach's G minor sinfonia and Chopin's B-flat minor nocturne, along with a few jazz and ragtime pieces. So I have enough of a repertoire to play for an hour ... but I need more than that.

Nursing home residents can range from my age (or younger) to somewhere in the 90's or even 100 or more. So we're talking about people born between, say, the 1920's and the 1960's ... with musical tastes formed in around the 1940's to the 1980's. That's everything from Frank Sinatra and Glenn Miller to Jerry Lee Lewis and Elvis, to Louis Armstrong, to the Beatles, to Carole King, to Billy Joel and Elton John. That's a lot of music! I can play a little bit of everything, but I need to up my piano game. I need to build my repertoire. So I've begun building a list of songs I want to learn, and once I start volunteering, I'll ask the residents what they'd like to hear, and learn those songs.

I think part of me wants to be kind of a para-professional--not a paid pianist, but good enough, and professional enough, to be one. I know I have it in me. I just need to practice, and I need to start getting some "volunteer gigs." I have a list of facilities in front of me, and I'm going to start making calls next week.

As far as what I'm working on right now, not necessarily for nursing homes but for me:
  • Great Balls of Fire (Jerry Lee Lewis)
  • I Feel the Earth Move (Carole King)
  • Re-learning Bach's C#-major prelude from WTC I
  • Polishing up Chopin's B-flat minor nocturne (Op. 9, No. 1)
OK, onward to instrument #2 ... guitar.

Time for a Music Update: Guitar

This post is part of a group of posts, the first of which is my piano update. Now it's time for guitar. I need to divide this post into two parts: classical guitar and acoustic guitar.

Classical Guitar

When I told my guitar teacher I was moving, he said, "No problem, we can do online lessons." I wasn't so sure about online lessons, but I said I was willing to try.

They've been OK. Definitely not as good as in-person, but ... in some ways, better. For one thing, it's nice not to have to lose 30 minutes driving back and forth to my lesson each week. And, thanks to a high-octane internet connection, I haven't had any technical problems. And here's something weird: I used to leave my guitar lessons feeling kind of dejected, like I wasn't cool enough for this teacher because I didn't care about power chords or electric guitar or jazz improvisation (yet). With the online lessons, the focus is solely on classical guitar; we have less chit-chat, and we go on fewer tangents.

Because I have to go back to Asheville every four to six weeks for work, I still have the occasional in-person guitar lesson, which I think is good.

I'm currently working on "Mary Hamilton," a Scottish folk ballad arranged by Peter Hudson. If you'd like to hear the version I'm learning, you can watch this YouTube video.

This piece has brought me so much frustration! I've been working on it for three months, and it was only a couple of weeks ago that it started to sound like an actual song and not a painful stumbling through notes. I think the piece is above my level, and when I told my guitar teacher that, he said he thought it was perfect--just enough to make me reach and get better.

I understand that. I understand that you need to challenge your students, and I need to challenge myself. But I still felt like I was jumping from Kindergarten straight to third grade, and it wasn't any fun. It was three months before "Mary Hamilton" began to be recognizable as a song and not some tortured finger exercise. When he assigned a second song ("Simple Gifts," arranged by Richard Summers) that was at about the same level, my frustration levels increased as I practiced the same tricky measure over and over again with very little progress.

So I got on the phone with my guitar teacher and said, "Look, this stuff is too hard. I need something easier. Baby steps." I have the feeling that, because I know theory and can play piano, there's the idea that those skills and knowledge are somehow transferable to guitar technique. Maybe they are in some students ... but I can't do it. Guitar is so different from piano, and so much harder. The white keys on a piano, and even the black keys, feel like football fields compared to the tightrope wires of the guitar strings. And on piano, everything makes sense--low notes to the left, high notes to the right. Middle C is middle C is middle C. On the guitar, there are half a dozen or so middle C's, and your fingers have to move and forth along the fret board just to play a scale.

So, we're going to ditch "Simple Gifts" for now and come back to it in six months or a year once I've mastered a few more Kindergarten, first grade, and second grade pieces. It's a beautiful piece and I want to play it, but now is not the time.

Acoustic Guitar

While classical guitar is my main focus, I also want to be good enough at acoustic guitar to lead and play songs. A woman in our neighborhood has been giving me informal lessons, working from some old Alfred and Mel Bay books. Some of the stuff is really easy, but I'm also learning some things that I wouldn't have learned (or I wouldn't have learned as quickly) in my classical lessons. It helps that my neighbor is an elementary school music teacher who has made a career of leading kids in folk songs.

So I'm working on some basic scales, practicing (and learning!) some folk songs, and working on simple strum patterns. For acoustic guitar, this is exactly the kind of thing I was looking for, and I feel fortunate to have found someone who can work with me at that speed.

OK, that's it for the guitar update. Now on to voice. (Sorry, didn't have time to do the voice update. Not that there's that much to tell, as I haven't really picked it up again since moving. I'll do an update soon ... or in a month.)

Blogging Elsewhere

Hi, Strangers! I've been blogging with my friend Anh over at Then a Gentle Whisper . Check it out!