to slow down

As I was contemplating what I could write today, I thought about how fast paced my life is right now. I thought about how crazy Mondays can be as the week gets started with a jolt. And I imagine many of you are running around as much as I am with trying to fit the daily writing in on top of all the other stuff going on. So I want to share something that helps me slow down a bit when life is running me over.

I listen to music. Not just any music though. It has to have a calming effect. Maybe you do that too?

For today, we shall have a little listening exercise. I know you probably don't have a lot of time, so I'll  keep it short, but I want you to just try it. Who knows? Maybe you'll hate my taste in music. But it can't hurt to try it out. Maybe we can all partake of a deep breath together, a slice of slow to savor.

Purchase This Phoenix Speaks on Amazon! 

Christmas Songs: week four

Last but not least, I have found a song to be dedicated to my oldest yet youngest child, my child who has severe autism.

Her song is "Silent Night."

Christmas Songs: week three

This week is a little more difficult for me to write. I have struggled to choose a song to dedicate to my youngest boy. He's so easygoing and likes so many things equally that I am not sure. One song stands out although it is only because he was making fun of me for liking it.

Christmas Songs: week two

Seeing as this is Week Two, you might want to catch Week One if you missed it . . .

For this week's song, I want to dedicate "Last Christmas" by Wham! And so you know, that exclamation mark was forced on me. Why do bands even use punctuation anyway? Seriously. But I digress . . .

Christmas Songs: week one

This Christmas, I want to dedicate a song to each one of my children. The reasoning behind the dedications will be different and as unique as each of them. I hope you enjoy it.

Two things inspired this series. The first is "Feliz Navidad" by José Feliciano, and the second is my little son who is not so little anymore.

music

Knowing how musical my mother is, I was probably thankful for music since before I was born. Therefore, it should be no wonder that I write about being grateful for it every single year in some way. But I don't even care—I will write about it again!

Music is perfectly wonderful. I like at least a little bit of almost every single type of music. And if I don't necessarily like a genre, I can usually find something to appreciate within a song or two. When I get a feel for certain songs, I'm just lifted beyond myself. Music brings hearts together, and it draws us closer to God when we listen to uplifting stuff.

With one song, I can be brought to remembrance of a favorite memory or a sad event or fall in love all over again. There is such a responsibility too for watching out to not listen to music that brings us down or pushes out our ability to feel the spirit. That's such a real thing that I don't believe enough people acknowledge, but I'll say that I know music very much affects my spirit, my mood, and my ability to listen to the needs of those around me.

I'm thankful I am able to recognize the power of music.

With all this celebration of music going on, we need some music, so I'll share a Spotify playlist of mine for your enjoyment. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

Keeles in Concert

As I read comments on someone else's slice of life, I was reminded of this song called "Angel Lullaby" and immediately thought of my extraordinarily talented aunt and uncle singing the duet when I was a child. 

I grew up heading to Santa Maria, California near the central coast's Pismo Beach often and a time or two to Springdale, Utah just outside Zion National Park for these family talent shows my mom and her eleven siblings and all their children would put on in my grandparents' community. Everyone would sing or dance or do a comedy act and such. I still remember my Uncle Curt doing his funny stuff. I'll just say "Edelweiss" has always been more special to me when remembering his primitive beatboxing methods coupled with my Uncle Sam's innocent singing and was over the top hilarity. 

When I was around twelve or thirteen years old, I sang "On the Good Ship Lollipop" with two of my closest cousins with makeshift giant lollipop props made from cardboard we cut out into large circles and wooden sticks my grandpa had made. We had matching dresses and ginormous paper bows—quite the musical number.

Rehearsals seemed to be all day. You'd see aunts and uncles singing and playing the piano and children playing and singing and practicing on the stage—and others running around the church where we'd perform later that night.

I remember my mom. Singing. Playing piano. Being a musician. She was so wonderful. She'd laugh so much, and not a foolhardy load of laughter that is empty, but one that signified her joy.

And all of this has made me miss my aunts, uncles, and cousins, my grandparents and my parents, and all the delightful opportunities that were provided to us in such a unique and talented family. My grandparents really set a good example of how a family should work together.

My Aunt Becky and Uncle Sam sang this song in such a way that has impressed upon my soul. I wish there were a YouTube video of them to share, alas this recording will have to do. I hope it brings a smile to your face and some peace to your heart as it does mine.

walk like a buddy

All of my trips to the hospital this week have shown me something I need to work on with my daughter who has autism. She needs to learn how to walk like a buddy.

I had been recognizing the issue before now, but since I am spending one-on-one with her and can take some extra time, we are working on this skill this week as we walk through the big hospital to and from her standing appointment for EEG testing.

Some of you might be wondering: What exactly is walking like a buddy? My first thought when I coined the phrase in order to illustrate to her how it's done was: People who overhear me are going to think of the song "Walk Like an Egyptian" and think I'm weird. And then I stopped myself and decided that it was weird just to think that and NO ONE else would associate that song with what I was talking to her about as we journey through the hallways. So there we are. I am so weird. But I digress.

Walking like a buddy is something that we all do. When we are with friends, associates, anyone we are with and heading in the same direction, we walk side-by-side or at least very close to it—not twenty paces behind with the leader of all the duckies turning back and telling you to hurry up. As I considered how to teach her about it, I explained that she needs to walk next to me because I'm her friend, and friends walk next to each other, so they can talk to and see each other.

Yesterday and today, we progressed to showing examples of people buddy-walking as they passed us. There was a large group of people who were not all together but several sections of buddies (2-3 to a team), and after I pointed them all out, she seemed to finally connect what it meant. She went into a mock jog to catch up to me and even be a step ahead, and she stayed that way the rest of the way out of the hospital! It was amazing.

When we walk our course to/from her last appointment, I'm going to see if she needs verbal prompting after making that connection. She most likely will but maybe not pointing out examples now. Let's hope!

And just for laughs, here is "Walk Like an Egyptian" for your listening pleasure:

remembering now

As the summer progresses and the chores list gets longer and the projects beg for more time, I find myself in the midst of memory making that keeps catching my breath.

I never thought I'd stop to relish the yelling of a teen girl (when she's not looking, of course). I honestly never believed I'd be able to savor the idea and actual event of my children going off for a week of summer camp. I surely never thought I could find joy in driving around town running errands until I'm exhausted just to have some time away from the house with all its chores, projects, and problems.

I've even taken to trying to find a way to love the struggles I experience as time goes by and there's no one who wants us. I see how much I can do myself to be happy along with what is left with no solution, and I find a way to be content. This process will either teach me how to be a better companion, a more grateful and giving one, or it will harden me against the cruel world, so I believe it is a good thing.

Realizing how often I take a moment in the moment to relish, savor, and enjoy these mundane and even traumatic experiences, the only thing to do is make sure I write about it as much as I can. I want to remember these summer days when I learned the value of time spent with people I love and how to manage finding joy in every aspect.

There's this song I've been obsessed with over the past month that I'd like to share with you.  It gets me crying some days, and on the others, it's a delightful reminder that now is the time to remember. Now is the time to make sure the time is spent well and with whom I love most; tomorrow is not when we make memories that take our breath away.

This is the Time to Remember

hymns

I've already written about my gratitude for music, but I'd like to take a moment to share my love for spiritually uplifting music. There are many genres that fall into this category, yet there's nothing quite like hymns of the gospel to teach and bless us through their words and beautiful sounds. 

I'm grateful for the songs that touch my soul, reminding me that there is a God who created me and loves me.

Recently, my oldest son shared this song with me, and I want to share it with you. It's a revival of one of my favorite (of many) hymns. The music and words wrap me in a layer of peaceful comfort. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. Enjoy. 

good music

I am thankful for music. I enjoy songs from almost every genre created. It began with show tunes in movie musicals and classical music, expanding my horizons to oldies, country/western, and then in the 80s, it exploded from there. My love of music has yet to cool. 

exquisite beauty

I'm sure some of you are aware of my troubles to a degree, but I try not to say too much about the problems I have been suffering with specificity (well, unless you've read the Divorce section on here). So anyway, I want to say a little more with the hope that we can all take a moment for a big collective sigh.

I mark today as the day I stopped being chattel, the day my house of cards burned down to the ground never to be built again. Today is the first day of no longer being married and figuring out what that will mean for the future. The battle is not over—of that I am certain—but I am my own person again. And I don't know how to express the relief and empowerment that I feel in this moment. 

But, also, today marks a terribly beautiful moment for me. It's terribly sad to have loved and lost, yet the exquisite beauty found in the freedom that has been reclaimed shines brighter than any of the tears ever could. I celebrate the opportunity I now have to move ahead with deliberate authenticity. 

In commemoration of this significant moment in time, I will share with you a representation of my emotional journey through song. It is not complete but in a purposeful order, and there are seemingly disjointed songs, but each song tells part of this disjointed journey. Every song has words that have whispered to my heart in moments of weakness or strength, in moments of indecision or decision. And I share this journey with you if you'd like to pause for a space of time and remember with me my moment of heartbreaking change. 

I appreciate every single one of you who have supported and will continue to support me in this dynamic adventure called life. 

a philosophy of faith

46.

Death often comes with at least a touch of fear, but I do not fear death itself. I fear leaving my children while they still need me and I do not have my affairs in order. However, my faith in God tells me that He will not allow me to leave this existence until they would be taken care of by someone who would watch over them or they are old enough to be on their own and ready.

I have lost enough loved ones to know that my faith is grounded in truth. It never feels good to lose a loved one because we miss them. We mourn with bitter tears because our faith is tested to the brink. I know. Every day that I don't have my own mother here to call on the phone or get a hug or even receive chastisement from I am tested. Yet, somehow I know that it will all be okay and that she did not leave a moment too soon. It was her time. In my lingering grief, I know she needed to go so I could finish growing up.

Death is the parting of the body and soul in a temporary separation until Christ's Second Coming. Until then, I will cling to my hope of happy reunion with my parents and all the loved ones I've met and those who have long since passed on that I will meet when we are brought together once this earthly veil is lifted from my eyes. It will be a time of learning and loving and knowing. I look forward to eternal life.


I'd like to share a video with you. I was introduced to this song shortly after my mother passed away, so it holds a special place in my heart and always will. It seems to capture all the hopes and dreams my mother had for me, while also whispering to me that we will be together again.

And so you know, I can't ever hear this song without crying. I will miss hearing my mother's voice and feeling her kind and loving arms around me every day until we are reunited in the after-life.




related links:

missing her and waiting

ten years ago today

light now dimmed

my hope for eternity

heaven sent

more than just a song

Whenever I ponder on my decision to begin dance classes as part of my university experience, I think of the song sung by Lee Ann Womack "I Hope You Dance". It's interesting to look at the influence a song can have over where our thoughts may lead, and I never cease to wonder at the impact music can make on our souls.  

The first time I was introduced to this song, I was at a funeral for the young wife of one of my cousins. As the words floated through the stifling hot summer air to my ears, my heart was overflowing with tearful prayers for my cousin to be able to keep going after such a tragic loss. My specific hope for him to find a way to dance began in that moment and lasts to this day as he lives out life with his lovely new wife and their children. 

The impact of the words on my own life has never left me either. Because of the loss of Danae, so many years ago now, I believe I have worked more diligently to take chances, love the life I have, and cling to my family and faith.  

I was reminded of this song, and Danae, because I was asked yesterday to dance at a competition in November that I did not want to miss. The problem with ballroom dancing is that you must have a partner to dance. My hopes had been all but dashed concerning finding a partner until this guy stepped up and asked me before class started. 

My newly found dance partner could not have known all he was doing for me by signing up to dance with me, but because of him I will not be sitting it out but really dancing. And Quickstep no less. 

Christmas music

34.

I don't know what the deal is with all this Christmas stuff in August, but as I've said before, it just proves that the slips of paper are randomly chosen.

When I was little, all the Christmases were a blur of sparkling lights, cookies, candies, wrapping paper, and gifts. You could hardly walk across the floor once everyone's gifts were opened for all the paper strewn across it. But setting gifts aside, my parents always took time to teach us about Christ's birth being the center of everything, and my mom made it happen by infusing the season with music: singing songs to and with us, playing the most high brow Christmas selections on the record or tape players, playing sacred hymns and carols on the piano, taking us to concerts for Handel's Messiah, and participating first-hand in Christmas caroling as a family.

Christmas was shaped for me then into a permanent form. Christmas is not Christmas enough unless there is music filling the air as often as possible.

on a whim and a prayer

I haven't felt whimsical in the least lately, but today is different because yesterday was different, and now I'm ready to share something that I love just for because.

You might have already heard this one, but whatever. I really love the song "Brave" by Sara Bareilles and what she has to say is something I want everyone within my reach to hear. The message of the song itself is powerful and empowering, and I love the music video even more so because it is peppered with Bareilles's signature whimsy and delight.

Next week, I embark on my last full school year of classes with full time credits and four kids, being a single mom taking dance classes with people 10-15 years younger than I, and having no end in sight to my marital woes. This said, I have declared this my fight song. I want to see myself be brave through it all, and even though I might need you to remind me some days, I know I can do it.  And I'm going to strive to do it with a smile.

I hope you will listen to it, for the first time or listen to it anew, with my wish for you to be brave along with me as we continue on this adventure.

The Watermelon Song

As a child, I was only sent away to summer camp once--between fourth and fifth grades. It was Girl Scout camp, and I was a Brownie. I recall being excited to go; I sold cookies and my mom handed over a check at the Girl Scout office when she signed me up. The first night was tough. I cried and wished I were at home, but then I awoke the next day ready for fun. The days were filled with knots and stories and hikes. My favorite hike was when we had to get up around 4 a.m. in order to get to the ridge before the sun came up so we could watch dawn arrive. It was magnificent to my young eyes. On the last night, we had a big bonfire and the leaders asked if anyone knew any campfire songs that we hadn't sung yet, and if so, would we teach it to everyone. Being one of the youngest campers, no one expected me to contribute, but for some reason I felt compelled to do so. I raised my hand, went to the top where the leaders were located and taught the entire Girl Scout camp the Watermelon song which my mother taught me from a young age while driving in cars and on our family camping trips. It was fantastic to hear everyone singing a song I had taught them! I will never forget it as long as I live.

lyrics for "The Watermelon Song"

Oh, plant a watermelon right upon my grave.
That's all I ask of you. 
Chicken and dumplings are might fine, 
but I'll take a watermelon any old time.
So, plant a watermelon right upon my grave,
and let the juice (slurp through teeth twice) drip through.

If you like, repeat while increasing tempo each time through until unintelligible.


*If you want to hear a rendition of The Watermelon Song, you can now watch it on my Instagram account: @th_purpl_lady

 

My Lady Jam

Girls Just Want to Have Fun brings back so many fun memories, and I always want to get up and sing and dance when I hear this song. Cyndi Lauper really captured something delightful with it.

Also, I've heard it's a great workout song.

The Purple Ranger

In a rut, in a rut, in a rut rut rut
In a rut, in a rut, in a rut rut rut
In a rut, in a rut, in a rut rut RUT! in a RUT rut Rut RUT!

If you can guess what tune this goes to, you might just get a laugh out of my slice of life on this fine day.

a perfect and priceless moment

We get into the car, and of course the music must be blaring for a truly authentic Mom Time. What was not expected was when my Sweet 16 with autism says in a loud voice, "Rock out!" when this song came on:




Naturally, I yell out an emphatic "WOOHOO!!" and proceed to sing and dance and rock out along with my big girl and Selena Gomez like any other mom and daughter would do as they drive down the road to get a bite to eat.

I think this might be one of my favorite songs now. If it gets her past the autism and able to talk, it's a favorite in my book.