I love a new datebook and a new journal that signal the start of a new year...both of which I'm giddily possessing. I get that familiar feeling I used to get at the beginning of a new school year in elementary school. I adored the new composition books, spiral notebooks, and folders that were neatly placed in my booksack before I hopped on the bus that first morning. They were unblemished...untouched...no mistakes had been made yet! Funny, it didn't take long for that to remedy itself!
Usually, in my new journal, I'll post a January 1 entry that details all the things I resolve to do during the new year. Read and exercise every day, eat less, worry less, don't be judgmental, find peace. How in the world was I going to find peace with all these expectations I was placing on myself, with no exceptions? All I did was set myself up for inevitable failure. I'm taking a new approach this year, and I'm thinking it will work out better in the long run.
Page 1 of my journal simply says "be kind to myself in anything I do, to the best of my ability, at that particular space in time." There you go. That pretty much sums up my un-resolution. Here's my rationale: I do think that, if we were all kind to ourselves, we'd be more contented people. If we were contented people, we'd find it easier to love each other and coexist more peacefully. I admit to being a simpleton, but, hey, this is how I roll.
Whether you are a resolution kind of person or not, here's to a year of being kind to ourselves, and to others, in 2015. Happy New Year, y'all.
Until next blog post, peace and love to you...dorothy
Friday, January 2, 2015
Friday, December 12, 2014
Is it possible to S-I-M-P-L-I-F-Y CHRISTMAS?
I love family traditions. You know, those things that just MAKE a celebration, that everybody counts on to signal a holiday. My family had a few. One involves a fruitcake alternative called Bishop's Bread. I think my mom scored that recipe from a friend in Stillwater, Oklahoma, where our family lived for my first 6 years. I've never met anyone who didn't like it! Unbelievably good!
Another tradition involved trimming the Christmas tree. Each year, my family would add one new ornament for our tree. Sometimes we bought it during our travels. Sometimes my mom would make it. After she died, I acquired a lot of her handmade ornaments, and they now adorn my own tree.
My parents had their own tradition that started with their very first Christmas during the WWII years (due to lack of funds!). It's a tradition that stayed with them, throughout their entire married life (53 years). There was always a bounty of gifts for us kids. But they were very consistent in giving each other a single present...beautifully wrapped...and quietly shared. I think their last Christmas together, I was moved by their sharing the most. They managed to have a quiet moment, just the two of them, in the living room, amidst opened presents and bows and 'thank yous' excitedly flying from person to person.
Dad would buy mom a bottle of Chanel (or a teeny bottle of perfume, in their early years). Mom would make dad a button-up shirt with a well-pressed collar (but in her last years, it was a store-bought shirt). I love the way they made Christmas about being together, not about the material giving. I wrote the song, Two Little Gifts, about this Christmas story, and I would be honored for you to view the video and hear the heartwarming story in more detail.
Another tradition involved trimming the Christmas tree. Each year, my family would add one new ornament for our tree. Sometimes we bought it during our travels. Sometimes my mom would make it. After she died, I acquired a lot of her handmade ornaments, and they now adorn my own tree.
My parents had their own tradition that started with their very first Christmas during the WWII years (due to lack of funds!). It's a tradition that stayed with them, throughout their entire married life (53 years). There was always a bounty of gifts for us kids. But they were very consistent in giving each other a single present...beautifully wrapped...and quietly shared. I think their last Christmas together, I was moved by their sharing the most. They managed to have a quiet moment, just the two of them, in the living room, amidst opened presents and bows and 'thank yous' excitedly flying from person to person.
Dad would buy mom a bottle of Chanel (or a teeny bottle of perfume, in their early years). Mom would make dad a button-up shirt with a well-pressed collar (but in her last years, it was a store-bought shirt). I love the way they made Christmas about being together, not about the material giving. I wrote the song, Two Little Gifts, about this Christmas story, and I would be honored for you to view the video and hear the heartwarming story in more detail.
We're having a simple Christmas over here. I learned how to do that from the masters. Wishing you all a beautiful upcoming holiday season. Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, Happy Holidays...
until next blog post, peace and love to you...
dorothy
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
HOME for the Holidays...
"She'd sped out of town without turning around
She had to get away.
Twenty years later she'd find her way...Back home."
excerpt from Home by Dorothy C. LeBlanc
I suppose I was a typical teenager. Midway through my senior year of high school, I seriously started the countdown of months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, and seconds...until I would move out of my parents' home and be an independent college student! Had we lived on a gravel road, I dare say that our neighbors would still remember the cloud of dust that overtook the neighborhood as I pulled out of the driveway, into my future. I thought I could handle anything that the world sent my way. I had no idea. Who does?
Life threw me a serious curve ball several years back, and it conflicted with my husband's plans. (I won't say where he was planning to go, but it rhymes with 'wishing'.) Before he left to go 'wishing', he dropped me off at my parents' house with my young son in tow...and said he'd pick us up when he got back. Simple as that. I was uprooted from my adult, self-made home, and handed back to my parents for 4 or 5 days.
I had been 4 months pregnant, and the baby had died in utero. I needed somewhere to recuperate from the D&C...and from the cruel loss. As badly as I needed to be nurtured, I was worried that my young son and I wouldn't fit into the routine of my childhood home. My parents lovingly took their adult daughter and her child into their home, and into their hearts.
That weekend, I learned how to appreciate my mom and dad from the perspective of a grown woman, not as a child. They were there for me. They fed me and helped me take care of my 2-year-old. We laughed together, we cried together, they helped me heal. Five days later, I cried as my son and I slowly backed out of the driveway to head home.
I know that, for some of you, holidays often bring stressful family dynamics to light. That said, I would love to be able to go "home for the holidays" and see my mom and dad again...but they're both deceased. For me, going home for a few days at such a tough time, planted the seed for the new relationship I would have with both of them into their twilight years.
I'd be honored if you'd watch my video of this special song I wrote about my story called "Home".
Until next blog post, peace and love to you...dorothy
Friday, October 3, 2014
Music Therapy at its finest...i.e., Willie Nelson's voice soothed my momma, when morphine failed her.
My mom's name was Luella Dugas Chambers. She developed breast cancer in the late 1970s, back when a radical mastectomy and radiation were standard of care. She had 13 cancer-free years before the cancer returned, with a vengeance. Before all was said and done, she had cancer in her bones and lungs, and had withstood 6 years of pharmaceutical and intravenous chemotherapies...and spent many, many days in excruciating pain. She died in 1996.
My dad was her primary caregiver. He did a magnificent job, preparing her meals and cleaning house and getting her to the doctor and just being there. They were married for 53 years before she died.
I would go to the house every day from 9:00am until noon to sit with my mom, and give my dad a much-needed break. Sometimes he worked in his garden. Sometimes he ran errands. Sometimes he sat and played solitaire. All the while, he allowed me a chance to spend quality time with my mom, my best friend and my hero.
I never dreamt that I would find myself putting a drop of morphine on my momma's tongue at 9:00am and trying to entertain her until she could have more, in 3 hours. That morphine did NOTHING for my momma. It broke my heart! By 9:10am, she would ask me if it was time for more medicine. After the first couple of days, I was determined to find some way to alleviate some of the pain that accompanied her bone cancer! Enter Willie Nelson (her favorite country singer) and two of his pop standards albums, Stardust and Moonlight Becomes You.
I don't know what we would have done without Willie. In truth, as soon as the music started, she smiled and sang and told me stories of: dances and moonlight walks; how she and my dad met; how during WWII she was appointed football coach at the high school where she taught, because the coach had been called to serve our country; and so many, many more! The stories FLOWED as Willie sang those songs of her youth.
Those times I spent with my mom and Willie were nothing short of life-changing, for me and for my mom. After my mom passed away, and I successfully waged my own war against breast cancer, I found myself working as a musician in the Baton Rouge, LA area. I ultimately began working as a music therapy facilitator, for children with speech and learning delays, and for Alzheimer's patients. What a beautiful gift to offer to people who are struggling...MUSIC!
I wrote the song Momma 'n Willie 'n Me to commemorate the power of MUSIC THERAPY! The morphine did not alleviate any of my mom's pain, but Willie did. I would be honored to have you watch the video, listen to the lyrics, and spread the word about the magical power of music!
My dad was her primary caregiver. He did a magnificent job, preparing her meals and cleaning house and getting her to the doctor and just being there. They were married for 53 years before she died.
I would go to the house every day from 9:00am until noon to sit with my mom, and give my dad a much-needed break. Sometimes he worked in his garden. Sometimes he ran errands. Sometimes he sat and played solitaire. All the while, he allowed me a chance to spend quality time with my mom, my best friend and my hero.
I never dreamt that I would find myself putting a drop of morphine on my momma's tongue at 9:00am and trying to entertain her until she could have more, in 3 hours. That morphine did NOTHING for my momma. It broke my heart! By 9:10am, she would ask me if it was time for more medicine. After the first couple of days, I was determined to find some way to alleviate some of the pain that accompanied her bone cancer! Enter Willie Nelson (her favorite country singer) and two of his pop standards albums, Stardust and Moonlight Becomes You.
I don't know what we would have done without Willie. In truth, as soon as the music started, she smiled and sang and told me stories of: dances and moonlight walks; how she and my dad met; how during WWII she was appointed football coach at the high school where she taught, because the coach had been called to serve our country; and so many, many more! The stories FLOWED as Willie sang those songs of her youth.
Those times I spent with my mom and Willie were nothing short of life-changing, for me and for my mom. After my mom passed away, and I successfully waged my own war against breast cancer, I found myself working as a musician in the Baton Rouge, LA area. I ultimately began working as a music therapy facilitator, for children with speech and learning delays, and for Alzheimer's patients. What a beautiful gift to offer to people who are struggling...MUSIC!
I wrote the song Momma 'n Willie 'n Me to commemorate the power of MUSIC THERAPY! The morphine did not alleviate any of my mom's pain, but Willie did. I would be honored to have you watch the video, listen to the lyrics, and spread the word about the magical power of music!
Thank you, as always, for reading and for listening, and for passing this on, if the information might benefit someone you know who is struggling.
Until next blog post, peace and love to you.
dorothy
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Healing in an age of confusion: "Let the healing begin today..."
I'm completely befuddled by our world. The internet, and radio and cable news broadcasts, 24/7, have made it possible to communicate with, understand, support and nurture humanity across the globe. I am positive that a lot of good has come from these advancements. I am also positive that not all that has resulted has been positive.
Ancient Greek fabulist, Aesop, is credited with the statement "familiarity breeds contempt". I've always reluctantly agreed with that statement...I mean, we are human, and humans are imperfect. We are jealous of the abilities and advantages that others possess. We lie and steal, and often go to any means to improve our own standing, in our own and others' eyes. And we live in a nation that was founded on Christian principles! Yet, I'll say one more time, we are human and humans are imperfect.
I'm a big fan of the New Testament. I truly believe in the inherent goodness in people. I believe that goodness comes from showing kindness and understanding towards people who are from different cultures and nationalities, economic standings and belief systems. Yes, I am a simpleton. I am not a political person. I am about love, and understanding, and acceptance in everything, towards everyone. That's how I roll...
A few years ago, I woke to read of a traveling musician friend who was playing a benefit in a nearby community. Out of the goodness of her heart, she donated her talents for a wonderful cause. As she's hauling her gear back to her vehicle, she found that her car had been vandalized during her performance. Someone had stolen her catalytic converter. I am not an auto mechanic, but I do understand that it cost her a lot of inconvenience and a lot of money...and my instant thought was THIS WORLD NEEDS A BIG TIME HEALING. And this song was written within a matter of minutes.
I performed my tune, 'Healing', at St. Margaret's Episcopal Church in Baton Rouge, LA, in January 2012, when I opened for Adler and Hearne. My friend Mike Whitney accompanied me on dobro. On stage, I realized that the song was a sing-along song in the making, and I cannot tell you how amazing it felt to stand up there and lead the audience in the singing of the chorus, towards the end of the song.
Please watch the video, and sing along!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZxF29KTuxO0&list=UUuAONW1409a_dSl9bFX6L4g
Today, September 11, 2014, I am reminded of the differences of all cultures in all of their beliefs and actions and I pray that the term "familiarity breeds contempt" might take a backseat to understanding and kindness. What if, just for today, we tell ourselves that love will be the rule...and what if we told ourselves that every single day? That would truly be a healing...
Until next blog, love and peace to you...
dorothy
Ancient Greek fabulist, Aesop, is credited with the statement "familiarity breeds contempt". I've always reluctantly agreed with that statement...I mean, we are human, and humans are imperfect. We are jealous of the abilities and advantages that others possess. We lie and steal, and often go to any means to improve our own standing, in our own and others' eyes. And we live in a nation that was founded on Christian principles! Yet, I'll say one more time, we are human and humans are imperfect.
I'm a big fan of the New Testament. I truly believe in the inherent goodness in people. I believe that goodness comes from showing kindness and understanding towards people who are from different cultures and nationalities, economic standings and belief systems. Yes, I am a simpleton. I am not a political person. I am about love, and understanding, and acceptance in everything, towards everyone. That's how I roll...
A few years ago, I woke to read of a traveling musician friend who was playing a benefit in a nearby community. Out of the goodness of her heart, she donated her talents for a wonderful cause. As she's hauling her gear back to her vehicle, she found that her car had been vandalized during her performance. Someone had stolen her catalytic converter. I am not an auto mechanic, but I do understand that it cost her a lot of inconvenience and a lot of money...and my instant thought was THIS WORLD NEEDS A BIG TIME HEALING. And this song was written within a matter of minutes.
I performed my tune, 'Healing', at St. Margaret's Episcopal Church in Baton Rouge, LA, in January 2012, when I opened for Adler and Hearne. My friend Mike Whitney accompanied me on dobro. On stage, I realized that the song was a sing-along song in the making, and I cannot tell you how amazing it felt to stand up there and lead the audience in the singing of the chorus, towards the end of the song.
This world needs a big-time healing
No more lying, no more cheating, no more stealing
Let love be the greatest feeling
Let the healing begin today.
Please watch the video, and sing along!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZxF29KTuxO0&list=UUuAONW1409a_dSl9bFX6L4g
Today, September 11, 2014, I am reminded of the differences of all cultures in all of their beliefs and actions and I pray that the term "familiarity breeds contempt" might take a backseat to understanding and kindness. What if, just for today, we tell ourselves that love will be the rule...and what if we told ourselves that every single day? That would truly be a healing...
Until next blog, love and peace to you...
dorothy
Sunday, August 24, 2014
So exactly what IS wrong with coloring outside the lines?
Admittedly, as a child I was the kid who would color exactly inside the lines. Wanna know the secret to my success? Simple...I learned to first trace the black lines with the crayon that I would eventually use to color the object. In my view, those colored lines that I traced were a stop sign. I would NOT color over that. Period. I wanted that gold star, and more importantly, I wanted to please the teacher! But once you've mastered the art of coloring precisely and perfectly inside the lines, where do you go from there?
I've never had the confidence to pick up a paint brush. I quilt, I create with crochet, I design clothing, but there has always been something holding me back when it came to traditional visual arts. I did take a beginning drawing course several years ago, and I learned the basics of drawing portraits. Very cut and dry...I followed certain mathematical principles and could usually come up with something that looked similar to the person whose facial features I was attempting to capture. Because it was very precise and involved a lot of 'exacts', I was in my comfort zone!
Whenever I've dreamt of creating lovely paintings, I get this rush of creative energy, but my hands are afraid that I won't succeed. I literally have no clue where to start! There is just so much room for interpretation by the artist, and I've only been taught to color inside the lines. Bring on the paint-by-number set on velvet! I know I could do that!
As I child, I ADMIRED the kids who embellished the plain color sheets with their own inspirations or, better yet, turned the color sheet over and created something awesomely original, from their own imaginations! I wanted to be one of those kids who didn't need the teacher's stamp of approval (the gold star), but who would proudly draw their OWN stars on their works of art! These are the kids that I channeled when I wrote a song called "Outside the Lines" in response to a songwriter challenge to write something about Outer Space! As you'll see, I never do approach a writing challenge quite in the way that others would...Here's the song, recorded by Lynn Anselmo at Chelsea's in Baton Rouge, LA. The actual song starts about 01:50 in, with information about a songwriter circle I host, preceding it.
I've never had the confidence to pick up a paint brush. I quilt, I create with crochet, I design clothing, but there has always been something holding me back when it came to traditional visual arts. I did take a beginning drawing course several years ago, and I learned the basics of drawing portraits. Very cut and dry...I followed certain mathematical principles and could usually come up with something that looked similar to the person whose facial features I was attempting to capture. Because it was very precise and involved a lot of 'exacts', I was in my comfort zone!
Whenever I've dreamt of creating lovely paintings, I get this rush of creative energy, but my hands are afraid that I won't succeed. I literally have no clue where to start! There is just so much room for interpretation by the artist, and I've only been taught to color inside the lines. Bring on the paint-by-number set on velvet! I know I could do that!
As I child, I ADMIRED the kids who embellished the plain color sheets with their own inspirations or, better yet, turned the color sheet over and created something awesomely original, from their own imaginations! I wanted to be one of those kids who didn't need the teacher's stamp of approval (the gold star), but who would proudly draw their OWN stars on their works of art! These are the kids that I channeled when I wrote a song called "Outside the Lines" in response to a songwriter challenge to write something about Outer Space! As you'll see, I never do approach a writing challenge quite in the way that others would...Here's the song, recorded by Lynn Anselmo at Chelsea's in Baton Rouge, LA. The actual song starts about 01:50 in, with information about a songwriter circle I host, preceding it.
Every time I watch this, I want to pick up a paint brush and see what will transpire! I wonder if there are any Baton Rouge artists who would like to take me on as a personal challenge? I promise to approach my first canvas with nothing but a positive attitude! Any takers?
Until next blog, peace and love to you...
dorothy
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Philip Seymour Hoffman, Judy Garland, Lenny Bruce, Marilyn Monroe, Jim Morrison, Tim Hardin, Heath Ledger, Janis Joplin, John Belushi, Robin Williams...
Does the use of drugs and alcohol fuel depression, or does depression fuel drug and alcohol abuse? In my view, trying to answer this is like trying to answer the age-old question: Which came first, the chicken or the egg? I'm sure we could debate this until the end of time and not come up with an affirmative answer, or solution, to these tragic epidemics that have led to the senseless demise of so many people. I've been reliving this very reality for the past week, since I learned of the suicide of Robin Williams.
I am no stranger to clinical depression. I hid it pretty well until I was 38, but depression, anxiety, and obsessive compulsive disorder finally took me down, and I was forced to get some help. Can I understand self-medicating, in lieu of getting help from a trained professional? YES! I remember how ashamed and terrified I was, sitting in a psychiatrist's waiting room, answering questions on a form that would help them mold my treatment plan... and trying to rationalize in my mind just how to skip out of there before my name was called to see the doctor. I am still grateful that I wasn't quick enough to escape!
I totally understand why some people would rather not publicly acknowledge their depression, and instead, self-medicate with drugs and alcohol. No forms to fill out in waiting rooms. No embarrasment as people look at you over their magazines in said waiting rooms. No acknowledgement of the pain and anxiety you feel, often 24/7, 12 months a year. No getting to the root of the problem. If that same person has an addictive personality, what seems like an easy fix (street drugs and alcohol) leads to a greater nightmare than depression alone.
We all know someone, I'm sure, who has waged this war. I've watched people I love opt for self-medication over professional help for depression, and I've seen each of them sputter and fall. Luckily, they are still inhaling and exhaling, and a part of my life.
I've also known people whose dependence on drugs and alcohol has disrupted their lives to the point where depression joins forces with their abusive behaviors. I have not personally experienced this reality, but I have witnessed it. And the pain extends to everyone who loves them. It's a crisis that should be addressed and acknowledged...and it needs to stop! Right now!
After the death of Philip Seymour Hoffman, I wrote the song "One Too Many Times". My producer and videographer, Daniel Lee, worked with me to create a video to accompany my song, acknowledging so many people that we as Americans have loved and lost. (Admittedly, there are so many, many more people who are not "celebrities" who have fallen victim to this epidemic, some that I knew personally. I dedicate my video to ALL those who have succumbed, that with acknowledgment, there might one day be an end to these senseless deaths.)
Last week, Daniel honored me by covering my song, and including Robin Williams in the video. It continues to tug at my heart whenever I think of the pain that Robin must have felt. Was it purely depression that led him to take his life? Was it his battle with addiction that finally caused such futility that suicide was his only alternative? Or might it have been a combination of the two? I don't think the answer is important, but I do think that awareness is. Please watch this and share with others who might have been touched by depression, addiction, or both.
RIP Robin...You will always be someone I look to when the world seems too cruel to bear and only laughter will lighten my load.
Until next blog, peace and love to you...dorothy
I am no stranger to clinical depression. I hid it pretty well until I was 38, but depression, anxiety, and obsessive compulsive disorder finally took me down, and I was forced to get some help. Can I understand self-medicating, in lieu of getting help from a trained professional? YES! I remember how ashamed and terrified I was, sitting in a psychiatrist's waiting room, answering questions on a form that would help them mold my treatment plan... and trying to rationalize in my mind just how to skip out of there before my name was called to see the doctor. I am still grateful that I wasn't quick enough to escape!
I totally understand why some people would rather not publicly acknowledge their depression, and instead, self-medicate with drugs and alcohol. No forms to fill out in waiting rooms. No embarrasment as people look at you over their magazines in said waiting rooms. No acknowledgement of the pain and anxiety you feel, often 24/7, 12 months a year. No getting to the root of the problem. If that same person has an addictive personality, what seems like an easy fix (street drugs and alcohol) leads to a greater nightmare than depression alone.
We all know someone, I'm sure, who has waged this war. I've watched people I love opt for self-medication over professional help for depression, and I've seen each of them sputter and fall. Luckily, they are still inhaling and exhaling, and a part of my life.
I've also known people whose dependence on drugs and alcohol has disrupted their lives to the point where depression joins forces with their abusive behaviors. I have not personally experienced this reality, but I have witnessed it. And the pain extends to everyone who loves them. It's a crisis that should be addressed and acknowledged...and it needs to stop! Right now!
After the death of Philip Seymour Hoffman, I wrote the song "One Too Many Times". My producer and videographer, Daniel Lee, worked with me to create a video to accompany my song, acknowledging so many people that we as Americans have loved and lost. (Admittedly, there are so many, many more people who are not "celebrities" who have fallen victim to this epidemic, some that I knew personally. I dedicate my video to ALL those who have succumbed, that with acknowledgment, there might one day be an end to these senseless deaths.)
Last week, Daniel honored me by covering my song, and including Robin Williams in the video. It continues to tug at my heart whenever I think of the pain that Robin must have felt. Was it purely depression that led him to take his life? Was it his battle with addiction that finally caused such futility that suicide was his only alternative? Or might it have been a combination of the two? I don't think the answer is important, but I do think that awareness is. Please watch this and share with others who might have been touched by depression, addiction, or both.
RIP Robin...You will always be someone I look to when the world seems too cruel to bear and only laughter will lighten my load.
Until next blog, peace and love to you...dorothy
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