“The world is wrong side up. It needs to be turned upside down in order to be right side up.” — Billy Sunday
Hey! I know you!
You’re that tall short funny serious sort of a person I met on the subw…
(eyes widening) Oh, my mistake! You just look like that person.
Look, I know we just met, but I love you. I likely used to avoid you all together and scamper home, but not anymore. My fiery angsty self has now softened to a balmy level of feisty with genuine smiles for added flare.
Musically, I was the girl best known for playing soaring French horn solos and singing in Praisercise-inspired church musicals. I got to travel the world, (well okay, basically the Middle and Eastern US and Western Europe) and play and sing. But it was always someone else’s notes, someone else’s words, someone else’s style. I felt like a forgotten character in someone else’s story, and I was slowly growing very angry.
After college, I ran off to Los Angeles to find myself and my style by singing rock ‘n roll. Instead, I got lost in my own shuffle. I worked office jobs, went to graduate school to teach, and kept living someone else’s story. I started acting again, but got flustered easily. I started running, but felt no release. I tried to sing, but my voice barely made a sound. I just wanted some absolution and clarity.
I was still so angry. And that anger morphed into anxiety, which morphed into full blown OCD leading to days where I couldn’t even leave my apartment. It was safe; the OCD was mine. The only thing then that felt like mine in my life.
I needed to heal. I needed to settle the anger that bled through into every part of my Golden State life. I needed to free myself from my own chains.
Seeking outside help, I tried everything from acupuncture, meditation and yoga to medication, diet, and therapy. Each piece was part of the puzzle, but they were all outside of me from someone else’s story. And then one day…
I bought a ukulele.
The sound produced at my fingertips was light and lilting, calling for me to sing along. I was transported to a log cabin in the woods by the lake for just me, my voice, and some happy vibrations every time I picked it up. It gave me a place to write and realize I really did have my own story. I was older, wiser, and thanks to the uke, calmer than I had ever been.
That wise calm drew me to New York City. A place believed to cause angst and anger among the clatter and din of a bustling metropolis. But all I see is a masterful symphony of being unabashedly human, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I started with a Thetahealing practitioner and moved on to become one myself. I’ve healed physically, mentally, and emotionally, but mostly learned to love the beautiful messes we are wholeheartedly.
My voice is coming back, and with my uke in my hand, I’m opening up to my own story. Every piece matters.
I’m excited to share my stories, songs, and musings with you, and hope to lend an ear to yours. Who knows? Maybe a comment of yours inspires a new song from me!
So let’s gather together and be unabashedly human. Let’s let the wild of a foot-stompin’ jive take us to new heights. Let’s laugh inappropriately, play with our food, and dare greatly in the arena of love.
Meet me at the bonfire on the beach. I’ll bring my uke, you bring the marshmallows.
We’ve got some livin’ to do!
With Love and Moxie,