Category: Musings

In spite of it all

I want to write about how thankful I am for all the blessings in my life this year; for my family; for my my work at Harvard Westlake and at Neighborhood Church Pasadena; for Tonality, Street Symphony, NANM; for LAMC and the LA Phil; for studio gigs and creative projects; for doctors and physical therapy; for psychologists, behavior specialists and teachers; for coaches and mentors and besties and colleagues, for sports and beer and video games and trampolines and an abundance of food and music…

But honestly, I’ve been going through some stuff. I’ll be okay, but I’ve been overwhelmed lately. I’ve been worried. I’ve been in pain. And sometimes it’s hard to be generous when we’re in pain or in need. We hoard our time, our money, our food, our space. Or sometimes we act carelessly and with ingratitude when we give and give and give at the expense of taking care of our own complex needs. We give away our time and money when we most need it to tend our own homes and souls. We fill up time instead of taking time. We fill up space instead of making space or holding space. Pain, grief, and need take us off balance. And I have been feeling this.

But I AM grateful. And I pray I am kind and loving despite my pain. I hope I remember to look beyond my own circumstance to see (and help meet) the needs of others. I hope I say “you’re welcome” as often as I say “thank you.” And I pray I have the courage, the strength, and the presence of mind to take folks up on their offers of generosity so I can hear the words “you’re welcome” and know the depth of their meaning.

We need balance. And it takes both courage and community to be both grateful and generous.

And it’s complicated, so let’s give ourselves a break.
Happy Thanksgiving.

Tough month

The first 4-6 weeks of the school/church year are notoriously stressful for our family, as I’m sure it is for most families. But it seems like the start to this year has been exceedingly stressful. Not gonna lie: it’s been really tough. And the sudden passing of my beloved composition teacher Dr. Carolyn Bremer from CSULB weighs on me still.

It’s complicated. Seems like everything is more complicated. Don’t get me wrong. Like I said last month, new settings have added an element of hope to things. Working at Neighborhood Church is a dream come true. My kids are moving forward in their new school settings. My husband survived his work as a singer for the Jewish High Holy Day services (my fellow singers and Jewish friends all know what that’s like!). I have much for which to be thankful. I know there are many in our city whose daily struggles are far worse than mine; whose basic needs for food, shelter, and clothing are not met.

So as we head into October, I’ll be reminding myself of some important truths. For me, these truths include:

1. I can’t take care of anyone if I’m not taking care of myself (everday needs: practice, pray, drink water, do a chore, read, exercise).

2. Being kind is key.

3. Cutting corners is unacceptable.

4. Grief can be a long process (I grieve for my country, my lost loved ones, my lost relationships, my failures).

5. We need the darkness to see the light.

It’s working

After several weeks of vacation mode, I feel rejuvenated. I’ve taken time this summer to sleep in, watch TV, take long walks with Vincent, compose music, ride waterslides with my girls, and sometimes just do absolutely nothing. And no matter what happens during the day, I can always come home and bounce my little trampoline until I feel better. Also, I bought an ocarina! I’m feeling inspired lately. Suddenly, I’m feeling the urge to go back to work. My school year begins in late August, but it’s time to start preparing now.

May you also find what you need this summer.

Enough!

For my entire adult life, I’ve been extremely busy. I’ve always had multiple jobs. I’ve always had to drive all over the place for work. I’ve felt guilty for not spending enough time with family. I never seemed to have time to just hang out with folks. Even with a doctorate in music, I sometimes don’t feel that I’ve accomplished enough: I constantly wonder “have I made it?” “Can I afford to feel content?” Add children and a husband to the mix, and now I’m constantly worried about whether THEY have “enough.”

I’ve struggled to battle the lie that there isn’t enough time, there isn’t enough money, there isn’t enough food, there isn’t enough room. This scarcity mentality has been at the root of my perceived need to stay busy. Fear of scarcity has kept me from being generous to myself and to the people I care about. I believe I’ve had enough! I’ve always had enough. I am enough. I know I’ve been blessed, and I intend to celebrate my blessings.

So this summer, I have enough!

I’m taking the time to exercise and make healthier eating choices. I’m taking time to just be at home with my family. I’m taking my money and being strategic with it (not stingy) so I can do nice things for myself and for my loved ones, all summer long. I’m traveling to conferences in Las Vegas and in Portland later this summer, because I refuse to succumb to my fear that I can’t afford the cost or that I can’t afford to spend two weeks away from home for personal and professional enrichment. I’m working with my family to create a more beautiful, more functional, and less cluttered space at home, because I insist there’s enough room for all of us to live peacefully and happily in our shared space.

I’d also like to acknowledge that there are so many people on this earth who truly don’t have enough. There are people with all imaginable needs, and their needs go unmet because of broken systems and stingy, broken people who don’t believe there’s enough of anything for anyone or who are determined to make “enough” for themselves at the expense of everyone else. Stinginess and gluttony are two sides of the same coin: I believe both are driven by the perception of scarcity.

Enough is enough. Period.

A Letter to the Singers of the Los Angeles Master Chorale

Dear Best Singers on the Planet,

I’ve been thinking about this for months and months and months. This is hard. I’m writing to let you know that I have decided not to return to LAMC. I have loved singing with you more than you know. But it’s impossible for me to commit to the group and maintain my full-time work as a teacher (and a mom) along with my part-time work as a music minister, composer, clinician, and arts activist. I am deeply grateful to LAMC for the many amazing opportunities I’ve had to make music with the most talented musical artists on earth. I hope I’ll still have a chance to sing with you from time to time on short-term projects around town. Great things appear to be on the horizon for you all. I can’t wait to see how it all unfolds. I’ll be watching from the audience.

Love and hugs to everyone,
Zanaida