I live in a beautiful log cabin that is nestled in the beautiful green mountains of Vermont. A lovely brook flows past my house, creating a very peaceful atmosphere. I am very content living in the middle of nowhere. The solitude, serenity and peace of mind it creates suit me quite well. But of course living in the country means learning to live with those wonderful four legged creatures known as mice.  They are not my favorite thing and do not bring me any serenity or peace of mind whatsoever.  Still, one must learn to accept the free gifts that their environment provides, so I do my best.

When I first moved here, I tried those we-love-mice-so-we-won’t-kill-them-just-move-them, mousetraps. That whole process was pointless and obnoxious.  I would find a mouse in the trap, pile him in the car, and relocate him down the street.  Done, right? Wrong. Less than two hours later, he or his wife or whatever is back in the trap again.  He probably beat me home.

They probably consider it their own Adventure Bound reality TV series for mice.

“Hey guess what? Go into that little box and eat the food. You’ll get trapped in there, and pretty soon you’re in the middle of nowhere.  The object of the game is to find your way back to the cabin and get into that box again before the mean lady gets back.  Then when she finds you there she flips out and does it again.  It’s way fun!”

That’s probably what they’re thinking.

I tried decon and that is an even worse idea because they die in the walls and stink forever and ever and ever. Awful rotting corpse smells that even the best air freshener can’t hide.

The sticky traps are just too cruel for me. I couldn’t do that to any animal.

So, I use the old fashioned traps. They are normally very quick and painless for the mouse. Put a little peanut butter on that puppy, and whamo! Done. Throw it out. Put more peanut butter on it and you are ready to go for another round. I’m sorry if I’m offending some of you, but it’s them or me. They are way too destructive. Mice in the house leads to nests, mealy worms, carpenter bees, carpenter ants, woodpeckers and other critters and diseases too numerous to mention. Not worth it.

Well, very early this morning I found a mouse in a trap but he was still alive. I did feel bad for him. I put my coat, boots, hat and gloves on over my jammies and headed out the door to throw him over the bank. I threw him overboard, said a prayer for him and went back in.

I put some new peanut butter on the trap and was getting ready to take it down to the basement again when I found something crawling on my neck.

“What the heck is that?” I yelled as I danced around in horror and fright.

Immediately the coat, gloves, hat and pajama top go flying. There is the mouse sitting on the floor.  I had thrown him down my own back instead of over the bank.  Good one.  I was very grossed out. I then felt compassion for my poor injured friend.

“I’m sorry honey, I don’t mean to be cruel and I’m sorry it has to be this way but you can’t be in my house. That’s the way it is. Live outside and things will go fine.” I then picked him up in a rag and made sure he went over the bank this time.

Okay so I never was good at sports. I can’t really throw anything. Obviously. Maybe that was my punishment for injuring him. Hopefully he won’t come back and visit me in my sleep.

Every once in a while Spirit sends me a message.  I can usually tell when this happens because I will get the same message from two completely unrelated sources. It used to freak me out a little bit but now it just energizes me.

The first time this happened was when a friend of mine first suggested the idea to me that I move from Los Angeles back to my native Vermont. At first I couldn’t imagine the idea. What, me leave my precious Los Angeles? Then we talked about it. What is so precious, the traffic? The two and a half-hour public transportation commute? The people that hassle you after hours on the train? Your ever rising property taxes and mortgage rates? Your stress level at your job? Who couldn’t live without all of that?

I quickly realized my friend was right. I was on anti-depressants and sleeping meds. I was completely stressed out by my commute and my job, which, in the wonderful world of Los Angeles Unified School District, was ever in flux. I had just broken up with a guy that was making me miserable. All I did was complain to her about my job, commute, and basically everything that had to do with the City of Angels.

I was worried though. I really was still trying to make go of it with my music and felt like I needed to be in Los Angeles to do that.

“Juliet, there is this thing now called the Internet. You can live wherever you want. You can have that cabin in the woods like you always wanted.”

I started to smile on the outside and on the inside. Was there any place to play music in Vermont though? What was their music scene like?  Is this something God wants for me or am I jumping the gun? Am I giving up on LA too soon? What if I make the wrong decision? Sigh.

So I told her I would pray about it. I did, all the way home from her office.

I stopped to get the mail on the way home. In my mailbox there was a copy of Vermont Life, with a cover story entitled “Discover Vermont Music.” I got chills down my spine. Okay God, I’m listening.

The second time I received a message from the Spirit from two unrelated sources was this past week. I’ve been listening to and studying the audio version of “Forgotten God,” by Frances Chan, where he talks about the Holy Spirit and how we need to bring it back into our lives and religious institutions. I’ve been praying a lot to the Holy Spirit, asking it to direct everything in my life from decisions to conversations, do my teaching for me, live my life, help me stop obsessing, save my brother-in-law, etc.

Well, ask and ye shall receive.  A few weeks ago I was on the edge of despair over my brother-in-laws illness and my sisters burdens with it.  I was grieving and sad for their situation to the point of codependency.  I was feeling horrible for a week at a time. So my friend called me on it. She said I go beyond sadness and grief into codependency by feeling their feelings.  She also said I need to learn to look at the positive side of everything. I can learn to see the positive in every situation if I only ask for Gods help and practice.  At least he is getting treatment, she said. How great for him to be living in the Bay area where the medicine is some of the best in the nation, instead of in the jungles of Africa. She said I needed to learn to apply this positive thinking to every area of my life.

Okay so I’ll practice that, I said to myself. I’ve been working on it.

This same week I began listening to my copy of  “The Me I Want to Be,” by John Ortberg. John is a minister and author and has put out many awesome books including “Faith and Doubt.” He has a fantastic voice and I recommend getting his books on audio, just for the sake of hearing him speak. Very cool voice and great rhythm of speech.  He definitely keeps your interest.

Mr. Ortberg stated that we have the power to change the way we think. We can approach life from a more positive point of view if we commit to changing our habit of negative thinking. We have to practice replacing negative thoughts with positive thoughts. We can do this in all areas of our life and God is there to help. All we have to do is ask. Scripture is there to help too. God wants to help. God wants us to be the best we can be.

I felt the same chills down my spine. Okay God. I’m listening.

I had a really interesting conversation with a close friend of mine yesterday about heaven, hell and purgatory. This talk had been activated by three oil paintings of the same names that I had created over the past weeks.  One looks like what I think heaven would be like, greens, and blues, beautiful, serene, calming, and placid. Purgatory has some reds in it, but also includes a state of brownish, yellow confusion that has not quite given into the red burning state.  Hell has a greenish yell sky with red on the bottom.

So my friend asked me to explain myself. Did I really think there was a hell where, if I’m bad I’ll go there and burn or all eternity? And what is purgatory? If I’m in heaven, am I flying around with a harp and wings?  She then went on to suggest that we create our own heaven, hell and purgatory on this planet.

So what does Juliet think?  I think that heaven is a place that I go to be with God. I’ll be with Christ. It will be a comfortable place. I think hell is a place where I would be separated from God for eternity. That would be lame. I wouldn’t like that. I’m not sure about purgatory in terms of it being another place, unless I am such a confusing messed up case when I get there that they are like, “hold up, we need to get a confused-mess-intervention-team to figure her out. Throw her in purgatory until the committee can convene.”

I do agree with my friend that I have the ability to create my own heaven, purgatory and hell right on this planet. Heaven is lying in my bed at night listening to the train go by. Heaven is also sitting under the stars at Tanglewood listening to music that only God could have created. Heaven is sundried tomato, feta and cheese pizza followed by a really good glass of Cabernet, topped off with a chocolate dessert. Heaven is my music, my writing, my art, and my cabin, my Quaker meeting.  It is the sweet, smiling face of one of my students who comes up to give me a hug and is glad to see me. It is a sweet student who tries their best to play in front of all of their peers. That is heaven.

Purgatory is waiting to hear about how my brother-in-law is doing in his surgery. It is waiting for that stupid, evil tumor of his to go away. Purgatory is spending hours fretting over a violin that someone thinks I lost and I’ve looked in ever classroom, closet, car, truck, boat, plane, trashcan, rock and spaceship to find it. And it is nowhere. Purgatory is me being lost in my defect of indecision, not knowing where to turn next.

My hell on earth is being swallowed up by my defects to character. Low self-esteem and the inner critic run a close race with obsession in this contest. Hell is me lying awake obsessing over a disagreement I had with a friend, or a family member, convinced they will never speak to me again; now they know how truly awful I am, the secret is out and now I’ll be alone forever. Then fear of abandonment and fear of rejection join in on the bullying session. Then I obsess about how I can fix it. Because I am codependent you see and that was part of my job in my family of origin. I was supposed to be perfect and fix it. If I just obsess long enough, I’ll figure it out. I’ll make them love me, I’ll figure out how to beat the cancer; the lost violin will fall right through the roof of my cabin.  If I beat myself up enough, maybe I can turn back the clock and erase that stupid thing I said to my student and not be defensive around them. Hell is feeling helpless over the illness of a loved one or family member. Yes, my defects do create hell on earth.

I find my salvation lies in my creativity. Creating music and art helps me survive.  I always feel better after playing my violin or my guitar.  And writing songs is my lifesaver – lots of songs. Listening to Mozart and Britten also helps me climb out of the hellish pit of depression and helplessness.  That and, of course, surrendering to God.  Surrendering in prayer is essential.

I don’t think I’m headed for a roasting pan. I have to try and avoid putting myself in it right here on earth.  That beautiful, serene, calming, wonderful place called heaven is real to me and I look forward to meeting Christ, shaking Peters hand and taking Paul’s class on Romans. And I’m sure they’ll have plenty of art and music studios there in which I can create whenever I want.  Tanglewood will be there too, of course, heaven style, with plenty of great lawn space, stars, and beautiful music. Sounds heavenly to me. Sign me up.

I am a Quaker. To be quite specific about it, I am eighth generation Quaker. Quakerism abounds from my mother’s side of the family.  I worship with unprogrammed Friends.  For those of you who are not so familiar with Friends (Quakers) practice, unprogrammed Friends meet on Sundays for worship in silence to “Wait on the Lord.” There is no minister. We sit and listen for God’s guidance. When we sense that Spirit has something for us to say to the group, we rise and speak He is telling us to say. Many meetings are conducted almost totally in silence with no messages at all. (Incidentally there are programmed Friends, who do have somewhat of a regular church service with a minister. We are on the other end of the spectrum from that.)

So when it comes to Waiting on the Lord, as we say, or listening for Divine Guidance from that of God that is within us all, I am pretty up on that. I have been an active member of one Quaker Meeting or another for the past twenty-two years now. I have held several service jobs in these meetings, including but not limited to Clerk, Recording Clerk, member of Ministry and Counsel, Peace and Social Justice, Library Committee, and Adult Education. I have led workshops on Quakerism 101 and led singing before or after meeting on Sundays. So I’m not a newbie.

The other day as I was sweating my face off on the cross trainer at my local YMCA, I read another few pages of one of the Quaker texts I’ve been studying, Listening Spirituality Volume II, Corporate Spiritual Practice Among Friends. This is a fantastic book and I highly recommend it to anyone with an interest in Friends practices. In the particular chapter I was reading, the author was addressing the issues love, care, respect and humility among Meeting members.  The specific passage that caught my eye and got me thinking was portraying the idea that Spirit can help us to become less self-centered, let go of self-will and dedicate ourselves to the well being of others in the Meeting. The purpose to this end would be oneness and harmony with our fellow Quakers.

Sounds great. Count me in. However, as an overly responsible, caretaking codependent, I can pretty much drive that eco-friendly tour bus right off a cliff. You see, as an overly responsible codependent caretaker, everyone is more important than me. I don’t count. In my family of origin I was taught this. I was there to serve everyone else and I was responsible for everything that went wrong. It was my fault. So I hear this “get rid of self-will and don’t be self-centered,” and go one thousand miles in the other direction to the point where I pretty much don’t exist. “Okay, I’m just lame,” I say to myself. “I can’t stick up for myself or matter.  It doesn’t matter what I think or want.”

I took this passage of the book and these ideas, and decided to make amends with a fellow Quaker who has stopped coming to Meeting because of me, she says. So I called her and left a message and apologized. She called while I was leaving the message, so during that time, I apologized again! She said she couldn’t talk then and could she call me back. I suggested some times.  I’ve never heard from her.

Obsessiveness is another one of my defects of character. So I obsessed about this person, my attempted apology and failure for a week. Why do we do this to ourselves? Why couldn’t I just act like a normal human and think, “I did the best I could, I tried, so be it,” and let it go? Because I am codependent.

Now I’m sure the author of this fantastic, must-read book, Listening Spirituality, did not intend for us as readers, to obsess, take on the meeting as our cross to carry, and blame ourselves for everything all the time. Rather, I think she probably means that, as I stated in my last blog, God needs to be in the drivers seat. It’s not about what I, Juliet want. It is about God speaking through us to discern what is best for the Meeting. We are a spiritual family. But it doesn’t mean that I have to lie down and let the eco-friendly Quaker tour bus run over me!

All I have to do is my best. All I have to do is let go of my self-will, and let God speak and act through me to the best of my ability. I don’t have to be perfect, even though Quakers are historically known for striving for perfection.  All I have to do is the best I can to let God’s Light shine through me. I can do that. Breathing might help too. Hopefully when I go overboard and am ready to let the tour bus run over me, my fellow Quakers will help me out and put on the brakes. Loving communities do that. And I love my Quaker Meeting. I am so grateful each and every day to be a member of such a wonderful spiritual group that seeks together to discern and follow the voice of God. I can’t imagine anything more important.

It is always a good idea for me let God be in the drivers seat of my life. I must practice this often by becoming aware of my behaviors, then become willing, surrender and turn it over. I think asking only for the knowledge of His will for me and the power to carry that out has to be my motto. To do so surely is the gateway to a life of serenity lived in his grace. Much of the time operates my life by remote control without my even being aware of it, directing my body and size ten feet where he wants them to go. It’s cool when that happens.

Last week I found myself almost unbearably burdened by the illness of a loved one. I also had a pile of work on my desk that would choke a horse (some of it is still there, I admit). My goal for the evening was to just sit down and work my tail off until the pile was gone. That was it.

But somehow the bills got paid without the usual hassle. Then the topic for my on-line meeting got posted quite easily.  Somehow the Mt. Everest pile of laundry on the only chair in my house got folded and put away.

Putting God in the drivers seat resulted in Juliet sitting at beautiful, holy, refreshing Tanglewood last Saturday evening instead of staying at home.  I brought my writing with me and did it while sitting on the lawn while I listened to fantastic music. I get so inspired by listening to the performers at this venue. They are all excellent. My creativity level always skyrockets when I am in that space.  And I didn’t direct it. I didn’t plan it or fight it. A a spiritual adviser I am acquainted with said, “let go and let God turn you, then go that direction.” In my experience this day , that worked very well.

I am still so concerned about my sick relative and his burdened family. I am in a constant state of prayer, lifting him up to God for healing, and enlightenment. But I left my precious Tanglewood renewed, uplifted and creatively inspired. And what do you know? I got much of my writing work done.

I am thankful to God for being my Navigator. He drives very well, never gets road rage, never gets lost, has to ask for directions and doesn’t need a GPS. It doesn’t get better than that.

About Suffering

Suffering is defined in the dictionary as undergoing the feelings of pain or distress.  This could be done willingly, as an offering to God, or unwillingly, as a person in pain from a disease.

Why do we have to suffer? I have come to believe that God has us suffer to bring us closer to him.  If we never walked in the darkness, we could not recognize or appreciate the Light.  As humans, we have the tendency to only call on God when we need something, much like the college student, who only calls home when they have run out of money.  We pray when we lose our job, get sick, lose a significant relationship, feel we have been wronged someone, or feel like we just can’t possibly get through another minute of our day.

I have a couple of people who are close to me who have recently been diagnosed with cancer.  Both of them are very kind, sweet, loving, healthy living, and relatively young people.  It is hard to understand why this would happen to such wonderful people. Why not inflict the leader of North Korea with brain cancer? Or maybe that guy who kidnapped those women in Cleveland for ten years?  Or Hitler? Why didn’t he get hit with stage IV prostate cancer?   I know this doesn’t sound very Quakerly of me and I apologize.

I do know this:  there is a God and I am not God.  I know nothing of God’s plans.  He does have a plan for each one of us and that plan is perfect. He has a plan for this universe and for those of us who are followers of Christ and have the wonderful future of eternal life in His presence.  I firmly believe in this afterlife and am looking forward to spending eternity in His presence and finding out the answers to all of these questions.

As a codependent I suffer along with all of my loved ones in that I feel like I am responsible for the their diseases, pain and suffering.  If they hurt, it is my duty to hurt too. It is also my responsibility to fix them. I have to feel their pain and cure their cancer. It sounds crazy, but as a life long codependent that grew up being responsible for everyone else all the time, that is how I think.  Thus I spend a lot of time in anguish and torment. How can I fix it? If I obsess long enough about it I can figure it out, right? Wrong.
So what do I do with all of this? I am not God. I am not a doctor, surgeon, therapist, guru, healer or priest. I am just me. Just your average Josephine trying to walk through this world.

So I do my 12 steps.

1. I admit I am powerless over others, that my life has become unmanageable.  I am obsessing about my loved ones and am in the midst of the codependent crazies.

2. I come to believe that a Power Higher than myself can restore me to sanity.

3. I make the decision to turn my will and my life over to the care of God, as I understand him. In other words, turn it over, let go and let God.  I didn’t cause it, I can’t cure it.

4.  I make a searching and fearless moral inventory of myself. I am practicing my defects of over responsibility, obsessiveness, compulsiveness, caretaking, feeling other peoples feelings, making other people more important then myself and self abuse, just to name a few.

5.  I admit to God, myself and my sponsor the exact nature of my wrongs.

6.  I become entirely ready for God to remove these defects of character. It doesn’t serve me to try and fix everyone else, obsess about him or her, have my heartache like I was them.  I have enough heartache about all of it enough already.

7. Humbly ask God to remove my defects of character.  I also ask Him to help me through this suffering. I ask Him to heal my loved ones.

8.  Made a list of all people I have harmed and become willing to make amends to them all.  This list is short this time. I am harming myself. I am neglecting myself and overburdening myself by taking the whole world on my shoulders.

9.  Made direct amends whenever possible, except when to do so would injure others.  I forgive myself for judging myself for not being good enough. I forgive myself for not being able to cure cancer. I forgive myself for being healthy when my loved ones are sick.

10. Continued to take personal inventory and when I was wrong promptly admitted it. I need to get the focus back on me and what God wants me to do.  I need to do what is in front of me.

11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve my conscious contact with God as I understand God, asking only for the knowledge of his will for me and the power to carry that out. What is my role in this God? Do I have the courage to pray ONLY for God’s will? Do I have the courage to let go of what I want and just focus on what He wants? That takes courage, faith and trust.  I pray for the strength to do this.

12. Having had a spiritual awakening as a result of these steps, I seek to carry this message to other codependents and to practice these principles in all my affairs.

I surrender.  I humbly recognize that I am merely dust.  God knows all. I know nothing. This entrance into suffering is His way of bringing me closer to Him and needing Him more. I am grateful for these experiences. Although they are very painful, these brushes with mortality, even if they are experienced through others, help the rest of us to remember to live in the moment, cherish the little things in life, and let go of everything else. The only thing that matters for me is to follow God, to pray without ceasing, and to do what I think he is calling me to do.  I read his Word, listen to his voice in Meeting and try and walk the walk as best I can.  Suffering produces fruit.  It makes my faith stronger. It makes each sunrise that much brighter.  I am grateful.  God is always good.

Juliet A. Wright
juliet@hiddenangel.net
Author, publisher, singer/songwriter,teacher.
Author of “Everything Is My Fault,” Singer/Songwriter for two albums “Fearless Moral Inventory” and “Beloved”

http://www.hiddenangel.net/home/book-review-a-long-dark-journey-into-light

This most recent issue of Strings Magazine really got to me. They seem to be really promoting a whole new vibe with this issue. The message seems to be:  Buy purple violins, go rock and roll with your violin, dance while you play.  The cover of the issue is adorned by a new rock violinist with a pixie, cutesy hairdo who dances while she plays, does UTube videos and has more UTube hits than even Itzhak Perlman. Another article in the magazine, the Top Ten Things That a New Strings Teacher Should Know, the author said that we should remember that not everyone is there to expand their mind and be part of a deeper, meaningful experience.  I was struck by what they are trying to say. They are trying to modernize us; lets get into the 21^st century.  Let’s do some improvisation, electric and painted violins are cool, loosen up baby.

So, let’s address these one at a time. Painted violins are cheap, at least the ones most people buy.  The article stresses that maybe this is all the student can afford and please don’t insult their instrument because it will hurt their feelings and then they will want to quit. The maker of these painted gems says they are good enough to learn on and for $75.00 they can get a violin and start playing. But you know what? It is not good enough to learn on.  It does not stay in tune and despite what people say, students can tell the difference.  They know when it sounds right and when it doesn’t.  I’m willing to be a modern girl.  I can start my students colorful violins to get them playing and engaged.  When they start progressing and auditioning for District orchestras and such, then they will see that all of the violins are the same color and they can change then.  They can’t learn on a crappy instrument. Why not make an instrument that works? I don’t care if it’s purple with pink polka dots but it has to stay in tune and not make my life a living nightmare when I’m spending 10 minutes of a 30-minute lesson trying to tune an instrument that won’t stay in tune. It’s just too frustrating and it’s a huge waste of instructional time.

As far as the whole rock and roll violins with improvisation and such. I am willing and able to teach that as well. But you have to give me long enough periods in which to teach it, not these microscopic 30-minute periods where the actual playing time is 20 minutes if you are really lucky.  I need to have time to teach them the basics as well as the improvisation.  And as far as dancing goes, my mother was a choreographer.  I can teach them some moves.  But they need to learn the basics first. Besides I don’t know what violin player can run and leap around while they play and still sound good.  Especially when they are eight or nine.  Geez. Give me a break.  It is important to make it sound good. When they watch this girl on u tube they are going to think “wow. I can bounce around like that and sound good too,” and that’s not true. She is over dubbed and probably sounds way different in person, missing notes and screeching.  The talent show she was on stated as much.  She is probably everyone’s hero.

So give us teachers the time we need to teach and we’ll get as modern as you want.  Give me time to teach the basics and then we can expand. I know that some kids are just in there to be with their friends. But I still need to try and teach them the right way. What kind of teacher would I be if I let them play it wrong? I know I need to try and make it fun for them. Or I could focus on the kids that can and just let the other kids come along for the ride.

Check out my featured blog at my friend and photographer Alice Garik’s site below!

http://www.alicegarik.com/2012/12/30/thoughts-portrait-of-an-amazing-singersongwriter/

The other day I was pacing the floor in the women’s locker room at my local YMCA and complaining about the tardiness of the pool lifeguard.  Once again the other swimmers and I were waiting and waiting for the lifeguard to arrive and open the door.  What is the matter with him? I thought.  Doesn’t he know what time it is? Doesn’t he know I only have 25 minutes to swim on a good day? Doesn’t he know what time I have to be in Pittsfield and that my students will be waiting at the door for my sorry late self?  Doesn’t the world revolve around me?

The lifeguard did come shuffling in at about 6:10, bleary eyes gazing aimlessly through Weezer-type glasses, disheveled hair and a huge cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee. He definitely had that “been up all night” look. He promptly sat down, took out his I-phone and started fooling around with it, rarely looking up at the swimmers.  Someone could have drown, had a heart attack, been swallowed by Jaws or gone swimming in the nude without him noticing.

His late arrival sent me on a mission to squeeze a 25-minute power swim into a 15-minute lap swimming frenzy that would scare even the likes of Dairy Torres.  Swimming off my rage while trying to recite in my head all of my positive affirmations that are meant to calm me down, I started wondering what the guards’ night might have been like to put him in this state of tardiness and ambivalence.  Perhaps he had been up all night writing a paper, solving the riddles of a computer program, doing advanced trigonometry, partying or all of the above.

I was a student myself once and I am very familiar with the all-nighter hell that sometimes swallows up an unsuspecting college student the way acne suddenly shows up on ones face.  They are awful.  I stayed up all night doing an arrangement for my guitar ensemble class once.  It’s not that I was a procrastinator or anything like that.  I wasn’t partying and hanging out with guys all night. I really don’t know what happened.  All of a sudden the arrangement was due the next day.

Well, I stayed up all night and finished it.  My big mistake?  The piece was in they key Bb really. Instead of putting the two necessary flats in the key signature like a normal arranger would do, I wrote them into every measure.  The Bland Man, (the pet name we gave for our guitar teacher at Miami,) really gave it to me for that one.  I felt stupid.  Okay so I’m not perfect.  I can’t say that my mistake on that piece has altered my life in any negative way.  The key signature police never arrested me or anything.  I did spend that whole day in this spaced out, half nauseated coma, wondering how in the world I would stay awake for my music history class with the professor who talked in a monotone voice and repeated the phrase “for all practical purposes,” in just about every sentence.  My grade in that class did not turn out well either.

Well at least I am learning to have compassion for others and that is important in this life.  I was able to put myself in this lifeguards imaginary shoes and to thus be truly grateful for what I have.  I hope he got some sleep.  I hope he finds a job he likes that pays him something.  I had a short swim that day, but I am still living and breathing.  I’m glad to not have to trade places with him. I hope my days of staying up all night to do guitar ensemble arrangements are over.  I was in a good mood when I left the pool that day.  I felt like Rick Moranis in Ghostbusters when he was talking to Sigourney Weaver and told her he did his workout video on fast-forward and cut it down to 20 minutes.  What a time saver.  Thank you God for the small pleasures in life.