Actually, let’s don’t and say we did. Please stay home, stay well, help keep others well, too.
But… We can watch movies and from everything I’ve seen online over the last few weeks, people have definitely been watching movies and television shows and streaming the entire catalog available on Netflix.
I haven’t done that, yet, but I have been watching movies. Or, at least listening to them. I have a small television mounted on the wall in my office and I turn on movies sometimes when I’m writing blogs, putting together newsletters, doing revisions, setting up pre-orders, etc… You know, the busywork of being an indie author or really any author at all who doesn’t have a virtual assistant.
When I’m writing, I listen to music, and sometimes when I’m doing the other stuff I’ll listen to music, too, but a lot of the time, I’ll put a DVD in or find something on Netflix or Amazon Prime to watch/listen to and recite the lines word for word. Don’t judge me. You do it, too.
Below I’ve listed some of my favorite movies that…comfort me, bring me peace of some sort in hard times, soothe when I’m depressed or creatively challenged, inspire me to keep going after my dreams when I falter, or are there when I just need to get lost in a world that is not this one…
The Lord of the Rings trilogy… I mean, anyone who knows me knows this.
Something’s Gotta Give
Stranger Than Fiction
Julie and Julia
You’ve Got Mail
Music and Lyrics
Pirates of the Caribbean (the first 3)
Mission Impossible (all of the Tom Cruise ones)
Ford vs. Ferrari
Avengers, Iron Man (1-3), Thor: Ragnorak, Age of Ultron, Guardians of the Galaxy (1&2), Captain America: Winter Soldier, Captain America: Civil War, Avengers: Infinity War… I haven’t watched Endgame since I saw it in the theater last year because I’m still not over the death of Black Widow and still unhappy with how they undid everything Thor had accomplished up to then, and honestly, I prefer to pretend that Endgame never happened. One day, I’m sure I’ll feel differently, but not yet.
Red (1 & 2)
John Wick (1-3)
Charlie’s Angels (with Drew, Cameron, and Lucy)
As you can see, I like sports movies, writing movies, fantasy movies, and kick-ass action movies. I like some romantic comedies, too.
Movies, like books, allow for escape, allow us to live in another world and another time for a little while. Some movies eventually become a comfort, a place we can go get lost for a couple of hours and revisit characters who’ve become like old friends. Movies that we already know the ending to and find comfort there because the real world often has more questions than answers, and sometimes we need a little hope that things can get better.
Homeschooling one or more kids, possibly differing ages.
Significant other working from home now, too.
A bit of history…
Working from home began for me 21 years ago. It wasn’t my first choice. I wanted to go back to work because I loved my job, but I had a crushed ankle and had a newborn baby and a 5-year old and no family nearby, and the job I loved required me to stand 8-12 hours a day. Needless to say, I couldn’t go back to it. We made different choices. We made a lot of additional sacrifices.
So, I took a job working from home and raising our kids as a stay at home/work from home mom. I cooked and baked a lot, learned how to do a lot of things without a car and without Amazon. The Spouse worked about an hour away at the time and my daughter was in kindergarten. Fast forward 4 years and home schooling became another new normal for us at the suggestion of one of my daughter’s teachers.
My son was in kindergarten by then. I was still working from home. I had flexible hours, but still had to put in my 6-8 hours a day. We still only had one car and we still didn’t have much money. And most home school material at the time was religion based, so I had to put together my own materials and get real creative. Online learning wasn’t a big thing at the time and there wasn’t a lot out there. The support system was extremely small and in a lot of cases, non-existent.
When we moved to North Carolina from Florida, things really weren’t much different. We had two cars and a bit more money, and I didn’t work for that other company anymore. They went out of business and I took the plunge into romance writing. There was a lot of home schooling red tape in North Carolina that there hadn’t been in Florida, and I was still putting together most of my own material for lessons. Home school activities primarily took place on the other side of the city and we made the trek quite a bit, but were still pretty much on our own.
I say all this because some people now do feel as though they’re on their own. They’re isolated in their homes, can’t get together with friends or family, kids are home and they’ve been plunged into the world of home schooling. Now, the advantage is that teachers are preparing the lesson plans, online learning is lightyears ahead of where it was when my kids were doing it, YouTube lessons and instructions are plentiful, and there’s a lot more accountability. But I know it isn’t easy.
If you’re not used to being at home, or being at home with everyone else at the same time for more than evenings and weekends, or being working from home with others also working from home and schooling from home, or whatever the variation is that you find yourself in, it’s hard. It’s an adjustment. It takes time to find a new normal and new ways of doing things. And if you’re living arrangements are such that it feels as though you’re stepping on each other and can’t get any space to breathe and collect yourself… I get it. It’s not an easy thing what everyone is being asked to do right now. I made conscious choices to go that route for the most part, but… The one that really threw me for a loop was when The Spouse started working from home full-time while I was working from home writing and home schooling our son. My whole day to day routines were shaken up and I floundered. A lot. After more than 15 years of having a routine, it was shaken up. Much like everyone’s is now.
There’s a new normal to adjust to for the next few weeks or months. There’s a new way of processing life for many people. This is my normal, though I’m used to there being more flour and yeast and milk and toilet paper and meat in the grocery stores than there is now, but for the most part, this is my normal. My kids have been able to entertain themselves because they were raised that way, they were raised to not have others around all the time or a boatload of activities to entertain them, so, they’re doing well with this. But I know a lot of others aren’t. It takes time and it takes patience that can be in short supply. It takes hiding out for five minutes in the car or the closet or around the back of the house. It sometimes takes screaming into a pillow or putting in earbuds and listening to your favorite song so loud that it drowns out everyone and everything else for 3-4min. It takes getting creative. It takes support and luckily for most, the support is there. The world has come together online to support each other. That’s something I and a lot of others who have lived this life didn’t have. We were always the ones looked at as odd and strange and why would you home school when you could have your free time with kids in school or more money by getting a job or… Well, this is a good reason why, it seems. What you’re going through now, I’ve already been through. I’ve already done it and with less support. I’ve already done it and come out the other side with resilient kids, a relationship that survived, and…a coffee addiction, but that’s a whole other topic.
Music is such a fun and lively and mood enhancing and comfort.
I turn to music almost more than I turn to anything else when I need to get out of a mood, when I need to get into a mood, when I need a smile, a reminder, a hug, a good memory, a certain feeling, to feel safe, and when I need to clean the house.
Music got me through some of the most awful things as a teenager. Music got me through some incredibly lonely times. Music got me through heartache and loss.
And music often gets me to the memories of my grandpa, to the memories of when parts of life made sense, when I need to feel connected to something or someone that isn’t physically there.
Music influences my writing as much as anything else does. A song, a melody, a harmony, a guitar riff, a bass line, a lyric can convey exactly what I’m feeling and exactly what I need to infuse into a character or a situation.
Things in life are a bit strange and crazy and fucking scary. People are getting sick by the tens of thousands and people are dying by the thousands. Cities and states and whole countries are under Stay-At-Home orders by local and federal governments as efforts are made to curtail the spread of Covid-19.
The Internet has become the place to be for virtual concerts by celebrities, by bands we love, by people we don’t even know. Music has always come together when there’s something that needs the support of the population at large around the world. This time in history is no different. Music comes to the rescue when we need our collective spirits lifted and attention drawn to the bigger picture.
I know I’ve needed it and turned to it more in recent days.
Spotify is constantly on when I am doing anything at all or when I just need to drown out the dread and fear and worry for a while. It’s not good for us to watch so much negative, to be exposed to so much sadness and horror because our moods spiral downward, and our anger, stress, anxiety, and depression spikes. Music, though… We can never be exposed to too much. At least, in my humble opinion we can’t.
What’s comforted me lately is the music that got me through those horrible times as a teenager I referenced earlier. Prolonged sexual abuse led to an inability to process stress and fear and I developed a medical condition, depression, and an inability to trust anyone. Music got me to the other side, both listening to and attending live concerts.
80’s Pop (mostly European acts)
Duran Duran…my all-time favorite. Forever.
I have an 80’s playlist on Spotify that has 54 songs. Over 3 hours worth of songs. And I keep adding to it.
There’s a Duran Duran playlist as well that’s just… I usually listen and sing along when I’m writing blogs or doing revisions or just need them.
There’s a 60’s/70’s playlist that was started because I wanted a lot of the Guardians of the Galaxy songs that I had forgotten I knew once upon a time and the feels they give me.
I have other playlists, too, songs and classical pieces I want at my fingertips.
Music reflects our thoughts, our consciousness, our struggles as individuals and as the human race. It’s art. It’s interpretive. It’s not always and shouldn’t always be politically correct. It’s full of emotion and pain and joy. It’s a statement, a belief, a hope. It’s an expression of everything we’ve been through, are going through, and it reminds us that we’re not alone even when we feel as though we are. And at this moment in this time when many are isolated and feeling the stress of what the world is going through and when the pain and challenge seems insurmountable, I hope they’ll turn to music and find comfort in it, find a little bit of joy in a lyric, a melody, a harmony.
What about you? Do you turn to music? If so, do you have a go to band or musician or song that brings you comfort when you’re in need?
In light of the last few days and the horrible loss of nine lives in the California mountains, the most well known being Kobe Bryant, many of us have been plunged into thinking, into wondering, into questioning whether we’re living our lives to the fullest and doing the things that matter and make a difference and make us happy.
I’m not an NBA fan, but one can’t deny the impact off the court that Kobe Bryant has had and the light he was for so many, and the countless messages of inspiration he left in his wake through soundbites from interviews, through his books, his documentary about the game he loved.
He did what he loved. More than once. His career as an elite basketball player. Then, as a father who was fully immersed with his family.
Sometimes I wonder if I still do what I love, the thing that makes me happy, the thing that I would miss if I didn’t do it anymore.
I’ve always written. Since I was in Jr High and going through some personal things at home. I’ve written stories, books, flash fiction, poetry. I’ve written to escape reality and to put reality in a form that I could dissect and understand it. I’m almost 49 years old and I’m still writing. It wasn’t the thing I aspired to do when I was growing up or when I graduated high school. I wanted to be part of the music industry. A roadie, to be honest. And a concert flautist. And a composer. And… And… And…
Being married and having children was not on my radar and the things I’d wanted to do and the things I actually did do were so completely different.
I miss music. I miss playing. I can still finger a scale in the air the way a guitar player can finger chords on an air guitar. I can still see the music in my head of pieces I played my junior year of high school which won me medals in competitions. I still have my flute, my music, and so many I wish I had… thoughts.
I wasn’t the best at all times. I was sometimes, but not at all times. But I never gave up. I used to spend hours a day practicing. 6 hours. 8 hours. 10 hours. I loved it. And I never stopped. Not until life changed and I didn’t know how to be one thing and still chase this other thing that meant so much to me.
I miss it so much some days.
I used to write like that, too. I used to write for hours and not stop. I used to write books that meant something to me, to readers. I used to write and write and write. Even while I was raising my kids and homeschooling. And then… I did stop. I did get discouraged. I did lose my nerve.
I keep coming back to it.
But I don’t chase it the way I once did. And I wonder why that is. I have no idea.
Do I miss it when I don’t do it? Sometimes, yes. Sometimes, no.
There are always ideas in my head. There are always stories that run in circles through my brain, like the bunnies that hop through my backyard. But could I leave it behind and in 25 years still miss it? Or would it just something I did once upon a time? These are the things I wonder when I’m being honest with myself and to be honest with you, I don’t know what the answer is.
Music still flows through my bones. It’s still embedded in my blood. It’s still part of me. It’s something I need in my life that a day without it sets my teeth on edge and I start getting really grumpy.
There’s a song for every emotion. There’s a melody for every mood. There’s a harmony for every memory.
The one thing I will say about writing, about music, is that they go together for me. I have to have the music right before I start writing. And maybe for me that’s where the two meet and mix and mingle and bleed together. Maybe that’s how music is part of my life now. Not in the same way it once was, but in the way that fuels this job that I have chosen to do.
The other thing that goes with writing for me is reading. I do a lot of it. More recently than I did the last few years. And the more I read, the more I start wanting to write. Wanting. Needing isn’t part of that vocabulary. But wanting, is. So, maybe as long as I’m a reader, I’m going to want to be a writer.
There are always stories to tell. There are always my stories to tell. There are always words to express what I’m feeling, what I’m going through, what I’m trying to understand about reality, what I’m trying to heal from the past. And as long as there’s music, I’ll be able to put those words down, I’ll be able to write and in that way… I do love it. I do still love what I do. I do still have passion for it.
And maybe, in this, I will have made my own mark and inspired someone else to find a way to marry their passions enough love what they do, even if it’s not a straight line. I think that would have made Kobe Bryant, a man, an icon, and one who sought to inspire others to follow their dreams, proud.
When I was growing up, my grandma and I would visit yard sales and flea markets and the like and she built up this collection of crystal and glass goblets. Most of them have fancy names. There’s a book that you can find the designs and year and maker, etc…
This is one of them.
For years, the goblets were housed or displayed, I suppose, in my grandmother’s china cabinet. I’d look them over every time I’d visit her house. It was always unspoken that when she passes away, that I would be the one who’d get the collection. She’s still alive and well, but I now have the goblets. They’ve been sitting behind closed doors in my cabinets. I had almost forgotten about them. They are items that I love and I was beginning to overlook them, beginning to not remember their existence except in the abstract or in the sense of…they’re taking up space.
That one thought, one day last week, hit me. And hit me hard. This is a connection to my past, to one of my favorite people, to some of the best times in my childhood where I was with my grandparents and I was safe and loved and I was forgetting about it, I was feeling a sort of UGH! about these tangible memories. This bothered me. A lot.
I’ve been slowly, ever so slowly getting rid of things, simplifying possessions, minimizing. And I wanted to start this early last year when I read the ever poplar, The Japanese Art of Tidying Up by Marie Kondo, the same as everyone else it seemed. Now, it usually takes a while for something to sink in and I go in fits and spurts when it comes to actually taking action, but I began and felt amazing and empowered and able to breathe a little easier. And that was only by getting rid of, purging, tossing, donating maybe 1% of things. I still have tons more to go. But I was looking through my cabinets and looking for where I could lessen things and maximize with what would be left and these goblets caught me. We’d been talking about getting new drinking glasses for a while, though hadn’t done anything about it. I have a hoard of mason jars and ball jars and use them from time to time, but… I also have all these gorgeous goblets that have a past and a history and I don’t know them, but I know mine with them and that was the important thing, the important part.
I took one out and began using it for coffee and water. I wanted to see how it would feel. And I loved it. My neighbor said it was fancy. Another friend said it was beautiful and look at that detail! And I found that I loved it again. Loved using it and I imagine that maybe there’s some memory in the glass, in the crystal, in the designs that remembers being of use.
As we age, as belongings age, as things we once held near and dear age or outgrow immediate use, as we minimize and downsize… There are things that matter, things from our past that it’s important to preserve. These goblets aren’t worth much money, but it’s not about the money for me. I wouldn’t sell them if they were. The memory of my grandmother and I looking for them is too precious and I think we sometimes forget things like that when we talk about the past. We’re so eager to forget or rewrite or move on from that we don’t stop to take in what happened, what was, what it meant, what it was for, what came from it, what changed because of it…These goblets have given me a different perspective, or perhaps reminded me of a different perspective.
Miranda Lambert has a song called Old Shit. It’s one of my favorite songs because it’s like these goblets to me… Things out of style. Hand-me downs. Memories. Home. There’s something about preservation that if we let everything go and disappear because out of sight out of mind, more than just a connection with those who came before us will be lost.