Was That Christmas That Zipped Right By?

It is DAY THREE of my time away from Los Angeles and I am still working on unwinding.

Before leaving LA, I was living the mad dash to get things "wrapped up". So was everyone else. Way too many of the parents of my students missed their regular appointments and asked that I make up their missed lesson. I didn't see why I owed them a lesson for missing their own commitments but had no wish to create a rift to end the year... and so I skipped eating all together and lived on coffee to spend what little personal time I had to "make up" lessons while fitting in rehearsals and completing projects and wrapping gifts to prepare to leave town to visit my family for a week.

I didn't have any sleep for over 36 straight hours and I lost a lot of weight. On the couple days that I did get some sleep, I only got 5 hours and then I was working again.... or waiting... and wondering where my students were as I arrived to empty homes and studios.

"But we paid for the lesson and you owe us a lesson!"

JNET: "I kept my appointed time with you...."

I will be preparing another list of students (parents) who can study with another teacher. It seems to be the only way to create some sort of stability in my life.

I'm working on teaching my students about practicing and creating art. Learning music takes commitment, practicing discipline and time management. Being an artist is about being fully expressed and growing a sensitivity to listening in order to create. And paying attention to get mastery over technique is key to growing as an artist at the piano bench and at life.

There are notes, there is technique facility to practice, there are dynamic and tempo marks to consider.... there are a lot of things to look at... and care about.

You can't just care about the notes but let your fingers stumble and say that time doesn't matter.

It's a losing war if I have to battle parents to create the environment to learn.

I might as well be a juke box.

And that's what I felt reduced to as I chugged down coffee and pushed myself to catch senseless mistakes that I didn't feel were mine to catch. I couldn't believe the deaf ears that I met when I pointed the obviousness of their mistake in time management and the unfairness that I had to pay for it.

But I suppose we all do that sometimes... make mistakes... and refuse to hear reminder of it and hope that someone else sucks it up for us and makes it disappear so that we can continue skipping on with our lives.

Christmas came and went and I felt I had to fight intensely to claim my own happiness as tornadoes of chaos rolled around me. I hope to find my center within the next 24 hours.... thinking of the students and parents that are a pleasure in my life helps connect me back to loving my lifework... The thorns of disregard from a few are nothing in comparison... They will be searching to study with someone else within the next couple of months.

Diplomacy makes sense only in a fair environment... Who balances happiness on precarious structures and hopes that others will make it work for them? What is the point of creating boundaries and structures and not letting them work and create stability?

The world is crazy especially during this last month... and I don't care to make that world my world.

Jnetsworld.... in recovery...

JNET

Bah Humbug

I lived on coffee this week.

I didn't bother with too much food because when my schedule is particularly tight, I'm not a eat an run girl and therefore skip on food. My schedule went upside down with parents forgetting to bring their child to their piano appointment. I spent way too much time than I cared for waiting when I would have rather done other things... like laundry, sleep, eat, and of course ... Christmas shop.

And so I taught at times that were normally meant to be my personal time... Time to sleep, eat, do laundry, errands and drank coffee which I rarely do... and found myself doing my work knowing that I hadn't slept in over 36 hours.

I don't know if they understood my forthrightfulness when I explained the inconvenience of making up their missed commitments on my personal time... They were hellbent that I somehow OWED them my time since they had paid for the lesson. Since over 50% of the parents did not keep their regular time commitment, I didn't feel like taking up a war... I have hospital bills that I owe from collapsing after exhausting myself in October by subsidizing other's poor time management skills.

I'm still jacked up on coffee. It is nearly 4am and I am anxious over needing to get to San Diego to visit my family for the holidays. I should be happy to relax but my house is a wreck. The christmas tree is on the floor after a fall and it is too heavy to put it up by myself. I am happy though that I've nearly completed my wrapping of gifts for my family.

I dread the phone ringing....

"Miss JNET, I am soooo sorry that I missed our piano lesson this week. Can YOU make up the lesson to US tomorrow???"

How can anyone learn about time management and commitment when people don't know how to own and PAY for mistakes? How is it that even if I speak forthrightly, the next question is yet still.... "so when will YOU make up the lesson?"

ANYWAY, aside from the fact that I am so out to mars with my schedule and I am not eating or sleeping regularly, I know nothing but to rant and hope that I will exhaust myself and finally fall asleep.

I need to do something yet to arrange my December schedule even better so that I don't strung around like thing again next year. I hate this month and people have no idea how upside down my life gets with their mistakes. They listen was glassy christmas shopping eyes.... increasing my bah humbugness.... inciting a personal battle.

I don't like hating Christmas.

JNET

If Bliss is a Beach Then You Are a Tsunami

I'm having a glorious December despite a few splashes. Splashes that are being labeled as intentional jabs of affection that leave me feeling cold, drained and exhausted. After a while I start to see a certain rhythm and pattern in the waves... or SCRIPT from my Hollyweird personalities in my life.

I make the distinction to not call them friends.

I adore my friends and have been spending loads of time with them. I even have a favorite guy that I am enjoying attentions from. I've dedicated my last month of podcast to fighting the holiday blues and challenges of this frantic and dynamic last month and have been enjoying having my family calling in to discuss fellow negativity slaying strategy. (Yes, I come from a clan of skilled lemonade makers, bridge builders and negativity slayers.) We are also bomb diffusers.

Those close to my heart experience me in a way that makes me think that we have the same dream and vision for the world.

Life is a prayer, a meditation... and life is an unfolding of prayers and dreams coming true.

But I share my planet, my city, my world, and certain aspects of my life with people who are not on the same level with me. They are very QUICK to say so. They are very QUICK to take "affectionate jabs" at me. I listen.... They are "butter knife" killers.... They hit bluntly, intentionally and say that they are harmless. A common line I hear is that I don't have a sense of humor. Another one is that I am a depressed person and that I don't know it (never mind that I am having a load of fun and that I have no shortage of friends and family anxious to enjoy my company.)

Even that simple statement from their own voice should give them a clue that MAYBE, their words are not being received nor given in a spirit of love. What "friend" tells another friend to prove that their life is happy? What friend condemns another as depressed instead of doing their best to raising their spirits?

I listen.

And I hear worlds in between the lines.

And then I consider RG, whose daughter I teach in Beverly Hills. He is a retired attorney and has the game of sarcasm down to an artform that I can appreciate. His own friends say that RG is OFFENSIVE but that he has a good heart... that he has the most UN - PC mouth but that he means well. I do get that he has a good heart, is very supportive and the bile that shoots from his mouth is strangely sugar-coated with stars and sparkles. I've also noticed that RG has modified his playful language with me. I play a different game and he got it right away. He's not on auto-pilot. He's awake and playing in the dimensions that he shares with others. And because we are present to respect and support, our adaptations of our selves to one another makes us happy observers and participants.

It is possible to be present to love and patience in the space of clever jabs.

I have been subject to very UNCLEVER JABS unfortunately. And being forthright hasn't made matters understood nor compassionate in all the cases. I am told that I have no sense of humor.... or that I am stupidly naive.... or that I deserve it and that I need to tell people to FUCK OFF more often.

Funny, I never have to go through such extremes to communicate with my family and friends. Maybe I'm spoiled. I actually have a world where communication is made very clear; being forthright is NORMAL and not the exception... and things withheld are done so mindfully for appropriate times. Timing is everything... it's a skill.. so is listening and so is connecting and relating.

I have patience but I am not a theme park to have fun at my expense. People are not amusement parks to take reign over nor are they mere landfill dumps to throw away one's trash upon.

It is true, I suppose, that I am not on the same level. I don't have an annual pass to jab a friend as a fun house, nor do I carry a dumping permit. These jabbers have a very expensive life. Heck, if an annual pass to Disneyland is at least 300 bucks...

Unfortunately, I am not banking out like Disney. I am hopeful that my forthrightfullness will pay off in the future. I know I've enjoyed transformed friendships after certain tsunamis. To avoid the splashes, I disappear for a while to recover. The expense costs me creative time to think or write... and practice and teach music and enjoy the zone at top speed. I don't enjoy being weighted down by petty gouges.... OH, SORRY, I forget to laugh... that's me... MISSING the humor.

I'll be fine. These splashes make me realize who really connects with me and who's really in my world... and that is a pretty good piece of estate. Emily Dickinson wrote that her friends were her estate. With that, I feel like I have it all and that from here life is just more fun and going up the levels.

Life splashes... I'm relocating to the hills to avoid the tsunamis.... I can manage little splashes.

I have a world of friends waiting with warm fuzzy towels.

Away White Elephants

The Chinese have a tradition of writing down their wishes and hanging them on the tree. I have my wishes on the tree... they will continue to hang on my proverbial tree after the holiday stuff is put away. What's your wish? Do you have room for it to come true?

The same wishes that I have wished for when I was four are the same wishes I have for my life today. In many ways, the wishes have come true. I've been working my way through the various phases and levels of reality... embellishing on how wonderful it can be yet. It's a fun practice.... concentrating on wishes and dreams and bumping them up the next level. It is like dressing up a simple bowl of vanilla ice cream with lots of extas.

I watch others around me concentrate on other things. They are definitely not enjoying a banana split. Life is messy as they concentrate on things that make them angry and frustrated. I don't think they are enjoying a decent lick of life when life is melting all sticky and messy around them. I am a storyteller of wonder, they are doomsayers of how life goes wrong over and over again. I have a league of angels by my side and they are twarted by their demons.

I like to stay away from such people if possible. They suck so much energy from me that I don't understand how they have the energy for their dramas. If the world is a stage, then I think a lot of these actors need to spend more time in class to work stuff out before insisting on taking center stage.

Isn't it more favorable to be engaged in dreaming and the journey to make dreams a reality than to relive a nightmare or recite a bad bad script? When you can choose between following one's dreams or re-experiencing something wrong re-packaged like a white elephant? What would you choose?

I find it easy to pass on the white elephant.

What IS a white elephant? It's a gift that you don't have use for...

I've created the habit of passing on white elephants but how many can look at their life and see that they've made quite an impressive collection? Maybe that too small sweater of a hideous color will fit someday and make you feel totally hot. Maybe you'll look better in that hat that really isn't your style today... tomorrow. RIGHT....

Some white elephants are easy to pass.. It's the invisible ones in the collection that are fun to dig up and throw away. They are harder to unwrap. Sometimes, after getting them we shove them in some back closet to deal with another day. I had forgotten of a few until a certain day doing some spring cleaning, I get belted on the head with a forgotten elephant or two. Better late than never to rid of such white elephants.

I meet people who'd rather never re-do the closet and make life appear absolutely neat and tidy. A chance moment while hanging up a coat, throws a curve ball from the dark corner of the closet.

I think a few of my roommates were moonlighting in the import export business of white elephants.

And though it may be true that certain white elephants reappear under the tree after a spite with freedom, there's always a door to put them out again.... and a trash can... It is okay... Maybe it got into the recycle bin my mistake. Mistakes happen in the dark.

Away White Elephants is the topic for this coming Saturday's show. Tune in.. 9:00 to 9:30 am.

There's only room for so much under the tree. That space is reserved from dreams and dreams coming true.

Clearing the space under the tree and putting my wishes to the universe.

JNET

A Garden in Mind

If you saw something beautiful in a garden that you wanted, would you want to take it home for yourself knowing that it would begin dying the day you took it for yourself?

How different things could be if understanding patience, love and faith would show that if you allowed that something beautiful to grow that it might bear fruit and seed to ride with the wind and become a garden at whatever good earth you had for it.

Yet, how is it that people make promises of their goodness and yet never are generous or are sparingly so., conditionally so... What flower thrives better cut from it roots? What flower delights in meeting with garden scissors and looks forward to sitting in rooms that have no sunshine?

Just some thoughts milling through my mind to consider for tomorrow's show on "Romancing LA".

JNET

I'd Rather Dance Alone

Why does it sometimes have to feel like a battle to be myself?

I took some time to step into the sunshine only to meet with gunfire.

I had no idea that there was a war going on. I didn't know there was something terribly wrong that needed some righting.

The terribly wrong thing is my not being tied and gagged into a romantic relationship. That "something wonderful" that is being wished on me is that certain romance that I am willing to give up my music, my writing and my dance studies so that I can enjoy being a portable, adaptable all-inclusive entertainment system and put my personal therapist skills to "real" use. I would love to welcome a romance but don't see any point in entering the gates of love via uninspiring berating.

Is that the way of the world and I am totally off step?

Are people being successful at love through guilt trips, emotional shake downs and manipulative seductions?

Geez... I have been MISSING OUT being single. I've been having so much fun with my piano, my friends, family and rehearsals and practices that I had no idea what I was missing out in. I somehow thought that love was that special something that inspires you want to share everything about yourself with and not edit or closet or shut down the things that make you happy.

Is it just me or am I the only one who won't enter "loving" relationships via the guilt boat?

Happy sailing.

JNET

In Between the Silence

There is only music.

Resting takes up more time that I'd like to afford. My attempts at calming down my life seems meager. Life keeps singing and my moments of silence are melodies at pianissimo.

Living is a daily destruction and construction.

A forced bedrest in the hospital taught me to be more mindful of my limits. I am also more mindful of keeping unhealthy though sometimes well meaning distractions at a distance. Unless the tension is interesting and inspiring, I have no space for random dissonance.

Luna's unexpected death into the sonata of the season tore my heart out. She was a song that branded herself on any soul that crossed her path. In a world that seems to be busy in the tuning phase before a show, it was refreshing to make a friend that felt warmed up to the world and just put her voice out there.

I felt I was able to understand her after a few bars. Maybe that is just the way it is.. you hear someone clearly when they make themselves clear to you.

Or maybe her melody was beautiful because I listened.

Luna's was the fourth death in my world.

Kay's passing last year forced me into the position of being the messenger delivering the news of her death to her family. She was a quiet old style Hollywood veteran and my former neighbor who's song was cabaret style. Her passing though sad was celebrated in color. She had lived a full life.

Then there was S's mother who fell ill while he was preparing for his doctoral recital. I helped him pack his mother's things with him when she was hospitalized. He never fretted about his upcoming concert and my heart went out to him as he stood on his strength to look after his mother.... an only child about to say goodbye to his only world of family. I was there for his violin recital and was moved... and then more moved that he immediately left to return to the hospital to be at his mother's side. He only cried after she died.

Meanwhile D's dad made his final hospital visit... the one he was to not return home from. D commuted from Los Angeles to San Diego every weekend for several months. His dad was ready and was preparing a family that only wished for recovery. A family was bonded by the mindful preparations and conversations which extended to a community of friends and extended family. D's father had a hero's funeral; a procession that was presidential.

I'm seeing that strength and vulnerability is a profound harmony made of passion and love.

And when Luna passed away this week, she wasn't the neighbor, a friend's mother or father... she was a friend... someone who shared her thoughts with me and I could trust mine with her. She extended herself to me and programmed me into her phone and then called me right away to make sure I wasn't going to disappear into the oblivion of acquaintances that come and go.

In between the silence... there is only music..

Music that breathes and sings... sighs and rests. Sometimes there are notes that just wring your heart and flatten you... and yet... there's always a return to rising up again.

JNET

Belinda (Luna) Bach 1979-2007

The Extraordinary Mind That Speaks to Me

The walls at the car wash, restaurants, and burrito stand all have the ubiquitous actor/model headshot row.

You want to have a heart-to-heart, get-deep conversation?

Bonding over sharing a shortcut through the canyons, recommending a wine bar, raving over a massage therapist, yoga class or place to get your hair done or get a pedicure is just the icebreaker.

Yet, I manage to be surprised by the artic chill I meet upon some people who cooly embrace the ice talk. I am surrounded by beautiful people and yet experience no warm fuzzies in the common-ness of hotness.

Come on now, I am listening... patiently as if waiting upon an instrument that is being tuned, curious to hear its voice. But I am not here because of the instrument, the repetoire, or the stage. I am here for the artist; the musician.

Who sits unaware of an audience. Tuning without listening and practicing without passion...

I don't want to be that way. There are some days when constant reminding toward awareness is necessary... like when you go to your room to grab something and you have to keep telling yourself on your way to remember.. remember... remember...

Remember to break through the ice... remember to breath and enjoy the warmth of and beat of one's heart... and remember to sing one's song...and remember to bow...

Speaking poetry through one's eyes, floating a sweet song upon souls that welcome become captivated....to enjoy every moment leading to the curtain call.

It's an experience to enjoy the applause and the warmth, say thank you, say I love yous, and happily walk away.

And yet, I meet people who want to experience that and yet they keep their art distant, their audience confused and guessing. They want applause and encores in enchange for silence. This is being a headshot and nothing more.

Do you grace walls or do you grace lives?

These are some of the thoughts kicking in my mind for Saturday morning's podcast or Romancing LA. Call in to share your thoughts.

JNET

More Than a Headshot

He is beautiful... talented.. educated.

It was sad and yet I felt it was too easy to walk away.... slightly charmed but uninspired. Was it me? Was it him?

Maybe I made him nervous.. But isn't everyone nervous a tad before getting on stage? I sometimes feel absolutely ILL.

How did he translate before my eyes? Imagine a photographer having a beautiful subject pose... but the subject had no poise. Imagine a dance but the music couldn't be decided upon. Imagine a painting, finished but not framed.

I took many "pictures" and each moment seemed to be nuanced by shades of color that surprised me. Ambition colored with cynicism. Visions of wealth and success jaded by a disdain for people who are wealthy and successful. And I wondered if he was listening to himself... how "generous" he was with sharing his uncertainties... how stingy he was with celebrating his dreams.

The stage is cleared again... I learned lessons on this particularly cold stage... people are fascinating... delicate ... strong...

I want to see beyond the headshot.

JNET

Turning Three

Jnetsworld is a toddler and is definitely getting into new things, exploring the world of possibilities. Thanks to many encouraging words from readers, the love and support has expanded me to stretch beyond writing. I am now practicing my public speaking at Romancing LA.

***********************************
FATHER WOLF: "Jnet shares of her self and we are the richer for it."

GABRIEL2178: "Another fantastic example of a stumbler with a point of view who knows how to get it across. Fantastic photos and a real insite into a fantastic mind. A must for people looking for real people on the internet."

EVOLUTION RULES: "JNET has a golden heart and writes a lovely, personal journal."

SYNCOPATE: "I feel uncomfortable reading Jnet's pages sometimes. I feel like a voyeur. She tells us of her experiences with life in an intimate manner. She sheds layers of consciousness as one might shed one's clothes. Her desire: to transcend while staying well grounded(?) I could be wrong about that, though. I don't know. She invites you into her world literally (with a direct invitation) and metaphorically (through her photos, drawings, and prose). We learn that she plays Chopin. I wonder if she plays Liszt's "transcendental" etudes... If you are willing to challenge your "self," visit her page."

OLE-TIMER: "Intellectual while loving the beautiful. Piercingly, enticing with her open mind, but concealing herself very successfully from the lackadaisical."

DROIDYDOO: "This blog will fire your neurons and drop your jaw :)"

**************************

Jnetsworld was borne to express the possibility of UNSTOPPABLE love, courage, full self expression and transformation. This is where I journal how Life is beautiful especially when it gets messy and chaotic. This is where I practice and strategize being a negativity slayer and this is where I find fellow lemonade makers and rugged angels about the world.

"The Future Begins Here" philosophy we share celebrates owning happiness despite circumstance. Life is a work of art. The first year I blogged and wrote poetry and kept my words to myself. The second year I found a community of friends at stumbleupon. And on this third year, I am exploring my voice with a weekly podcast.

Thanks for celebrating three years of blogging. This toddling blog appreciates the world of encouragements. My beautiful world gets more gorgeous meeting kin spirits miles away.

Jnetsworld is an "ode to joy". Thanks for being part of my music.

JNET

A Stretch Away From Solitude

Slow... slow ... quick quick ... slow..

Next week is my last week of tango class.. the instructor is going to switch it up to Viennese Waltz to mix things up for a bit this November. So many fun things to do... and so little time!

I am enjoying my teaching practice. My students are a pleasure to be with and I feel energized after my teaching sessions. If I could just only live on music, writing and dance....

I suppose I tried and did not succeed. Not having any hungers other than for art, I pushed my body where I mentally could go but not with my body. I fainted while teaching and spent last weekend in the hospital on a mandatory bedrest.

This week of "taking it easy" has been challenging. ALL of my friends live similarily FULL and intensive lives. How does one slow down on a lifestyle that has been set since before high school? I never was the type to sit down to a ritual of watching television for a couple hours a day. I've ALWAYS had rehearsals or some sort of practicing, reading or projects to immerse myself into....

Today is Sunday...a do nothing day.... I'm skipping out of attending rehearsal and I'm going to enjoy quiet and relaxation... Maybe enjoy a good laugh with a friend or even watch a funny movie :)

Slow... slow... quick quick... slow...

Enjoying the slow parts dancing with life....

JNET

A League of Angels

MOM: "Everyone has a guardian angel looking after them. Do you pray to your guardian angel?"

JNET: "I don't have a guardian angel, Mom, I have a league of angels."

I didn't know that by the end of the weekend, God was going to tickle me again and prove that my league was looking out for me.

Should I go down to San Diego for my niece's birthday for a second consecutive weekend away from home? I called her and asked about her plans. Will she be too busy with her friend, I wondered. The question was easily cleared with a phone call to her. She wanted me to be there.

And so I purchased another set of train tickets and planned for a nice Friday evening ride staring at cars in traffic while I whisked by.

Friday night came but my 7:18pm train didn't. An incident up the track was delaying my train. It was a cold night and I hadn't prepared for sitting out in the evening cold. I made friends with my fellow popsicles and after a third call to Amtrak, we all decided to abandon hanging out for the train and sit indoors and weigh in our respective options. I put my bags in my car and called my brother.

R: "Maybe you can catch a 6am train to get here in the morning."

JNET: "Ahh, I still have to figure out who can drop me off at the station at that hour and I don't know if the subway is running that early in the morning. Let me go out and ask these folks here what they are planning."

A couple of guys decided they were going to hop in a cab and head downtown and hope they can fit into a 10pm train. I didn't think twice and ran to my car, retrieved my bags and got into the cab. We got to Union Station and saw a healthy line growing for the same train ride. But my new friends and I were confident to get a seat in business class and be able to relax. They generously paid my taxi fare.

When I got to the ticket booth I realized that I no longer had my ticket on me. I had lost them somewhere en route to Union Station. I ran out to check the street. A couple of security people asked around to help me out and I returned to the booth empty-handed. My traveling friends also went out to have a go at searching for my ticket.

Amtrak has a no-refund policy on lost tickets. You have to produce a ticket to get a refund. It doesn't matter IF you've just bought the ticket from them and they got swallowed by the hungry person next to you right in front of them. You HAVE to produce a ticket.

I decided that the evening was to only get better. People lose money all the time on their travels. People lose a lot more in Vegas in the name of FUN. If I was to consider my gamble for my niece than I figured that was a game worth claiming a win on.

And so I paid another 100 dollars and bought around round trip to San Diego and rolled in safely by 1am to enjoy lava cake and ice cream with my niece. I woke up by 7:30am the next morning and broadcasted my blogradio show by 9am.... and enjoyed the rest of the weekend celebrating with family.

And I was back on the a train Sunday afternoon at 4pm. I arrived back at Glendale and a man called my name when I got off the train.

Stranger: "Are you JNET?"

Being the only female around and being JNET, it was hard to ignore a direct question from a stranger.

JNET: "Yes, I am JNET."

Stranger: "Good, here's your tickets that you lost on the ground last Friday. I didn't know any way to contact you. I called Amtrak and couldn't get any info on you. Here." he handed the tickets to me. "You can call and get your refund."

JNET: "Thanks! Wow... thanks."

I shook his hand and was amazed to meet another rugged angel in Los Angeles. My hands were full and so I dashed off to my car and put my things away. I wasn't away for even two minutes that when I turned around to search for him, the stranger was not to be found.

Another angel, part of the league, disappeared into the evening... but definitely not without leaving quite a mark on my night. Again, hit by the weight of a feather.

JNET

Snake At A Picnic

A venomous conversation.

That is what it felt like to be in the presence of J, a woman who wrapped herself around a person tightly before biting. I ran away for safety from her 'friendship' years ago and was happy when she moved out of state.

She found me again this past weekend at a picnic she knew I would be attending. She came upon me like a snake in the grass. First, she sat among my cousins and made trivial conversation and then asked about me.

"J is looking for you. She was asking questions." Several people approached me when I arrived to the event.

I eventually spotted her and unfortunately found I was already targeted. Not wishing to have to entertain a conversation with someone I had clearly broken ties with, I wondered if she would be able to read that I didn't exactly have a welcome mat posted in front of me for her.

Wouldn't half a dozen people sent to me as messengers and ignored be clue enough?

It wasn't. After all her messengers failed at their mission, she took it upon herself to force an audience with me.

J: "I've been asking around for you."

JNET: "I know."

J: "It's been several years and I am not sure what exactly happened between the two of us but I wanted to thank you for one of the best summers I had in my life."

JNET: "Hmmfff"

If you didn't notice before, snakes smile. Her side of the conversation consisted of flattery and self-promotion.

I did not ask about her life and I was keen on keeping mine private from her. Any good friend of mine knows that I am free and at ease if I am expressing myself freely and enthusiastically as well as asking lots of questions to share conversation. She met a guarded JNET and did not care nor did she keep in memory the many things she had done to betray me in the past that warranted:

My roommate putting her foot down that J was not a welcome guest for she felt J had ulterior motives.

Several close friends approaching me with concerns about my "family friend's" questionable behaviors behind my back.

And finally, long distance calls from business associates, with their concerns about my friend who was saying things to undermine my reputation. This was not the way I like things in my grown up world and J was a bully in a playground. Luckily, I have very protective friends and associates and I am respected.

J and I ended our connection after she admitted her lack of integrity. She became very angry with me when I wouldn't forgive her pretensions and after I told her I could not support her indiscretions. Even if I took away everyone else's testimonies against her, the insults she vigorously and personally gave were enough to condemn her.

And so she was ousted... clearly. Within a space of 6 months, she had released so much poison in my world that I could swim in it and my friends too.

That I was somewhat surprised at her "innocence" in asking where our friendship had gone. The way she talked to me did not surprise me after. She did try to wrap herself around me and take a squeeze. Snakes do smile and they bite out of fear.

Fearful, smiling creatures are dangerous. J was looking for a hot, sunny spot to bathe herself in and found an artic shade. Then she tried to bite hoping to get my blood going but I deflected her and didn't want any drama in front of my family.

"Have a nice life." She bade me. "Have a nice life." She bade my mother. "Have a nice life." She bade my cousins.

And then she slithered away.

JNET

SS: Tango-ing Thoughts

Slow... slow... quick quick... slow..

Promenade, grapevines, rock, lock, box, ochos, serpentines...

I am loving the choreography sequence being taught at my tango class.

But as I visit tango world for my dancing fix, studying how to use the body in a skilled art form, I am conscious of the fact that I am surrounded by salt shakers, that ubiquitous presence of pairs. Though I am grateful to "borrow" a guy for a dance, I become aware that perhaps my singularity is peculiar.

But I am a girl who goes to weddings, baby showers, and restaurants ALONE. And tango is for salt shakers ultimately.

It's been two weeks since I've seen the mathematician. We've since retreated to our work, the serenity of personal solitudes and I am still struck by the aftereffects of his presence. Still, I had a great evening with JC who made me a dinner that put me on the moon and I enjoy the hellos of several sweet.... potential shakers?

What is tango doing to me?

Hmm... maybe I should've signed up for flamenco instead.

JNET

Ego Kidnaps Idio

This Saturday's show on Blogtalkradio will be about idiosyncrasies... those cute little quirks that make you special. I woke up at 8:59 for last week's show. The show begins at 9 am every Saturday morning. To say the least, I winged it and was able to pull the show off and find that doing a part II will do the subject justice.

Quirks.

We have our own special quirks... But what happens when your EGO takes your cute quirks and make little monsters of them? What if your affinity for quiet time and independence renders you into a seasonal hermit? What if your self-reliance and confidence turns into self-absorption?

My particular quirk is my love for solitude. Despite the fact that I have a wonderful teaching practice coaching 30+ private students on the piano, despite the fact that I am in a weekly tango class and involved with another dance company, despite the fact that I am involved with church, family obligations and have a circle of close friends.... I am a loner and an introvert by nature. I RUN back to my solitude as my natural and original position.

Being social, writing for the public eye, hosting a radio show are ways to stretch me out of my comfort zone. I sprint back to my solitude once my mission is accomplished.

This "mad dash" is starting to stand out to me. In being mindful that my inner egomaniac is not wishing to make me seem anti-social, I'm trying to be more sensitive in how I do socialize without giving up who I am by nature.

This Saturday we will look at quirks and how egos make little baby Jekylls of them sometimes. Tune in, call in... :)

JNET

Life Loves Me

September is ushering in so much love into my life that it feels like God is tickling me silly.

I have sooo many new people in my life. I am absolutely charmed. I've gained almost a dozen new private students whose personalities have endeared themselves to me that I find it hard to entertain thoughts of packing up and moving back east.

I'm still doing "Tango til Midnight" dance class with the goth crowd. I've just arrived home and I have a BSF class in the morning that I'm looking forward to at 9:00am. Life is busy... incredibly busy. And yet I manage my private time to write, read a book and play the piano.

I am tackling the Iberia Suite by Isaac Albeniz. It's not easy but it is a nice obsession during my quiet time.

As I romance life, I find that life opens up more possibilites before me.

"What do you want? What is your wish?" Life asks...

"I want joy, creativity, abundance, growth, love, fun and adventure." I say.

And in being present to the possibility of magic in a spontaneous moment, I find that wishes do come true. It's September... and it feels like God is tickling me silly with so much love.

JNET

Jnetsworld Keeps Moving and Grooving

So there! I've nixed jnetworld from blogtalkradio.

I decided to evolve it to simply "Romancing LA". I want it to grow to a show about romancing life and not necessarily just about my life. A conversation between fellow lovers of life, negativity slayers, bridge builders and lemonade makers.

A community of rugged angels that trek this world from Los Angeles and beyond that are creating lives as works of art that speak of beauty, elegant, compassion...

Calling all rugged angels, please introduce yourselves at myspace and call in to say hello so that I may put a voice to you at Romancing LA.

What the heck is a piano teacher doing hosting a radio show?

I host this show because I'm more than a piano teacher. I write but I am more than a writer. I dance because I am more than a dancer. I do many things; I am many things and write of living on multi-dimensions of experience and thought.

And parts of me struggle everyday to throw in proverbial little towels or tissues at the many possibilites of ways of being. I want to have my boo hoo moments. I want to have a lazy week or take a month long vacation or at least sleep in and not step out of my head and share my thoughts.

But Life kicks me into attention and back into Intention. I learn lessons from those that share their world with me. I learn lessons from people whose world COLLIDE with me. I am blessed by a passing hello.

And perhaps... the world out there... experiences little bits similar to what they hear from my world.

Jnetsworld's nixing from blogtalkradio has evolved to being "Romancing LA", a Saturday morning conversation to not complain about Life but to exalt it and to laugh at the comedy and look at the world with the freshness of a Saturday morning cartoon... not necesarily visually but definitely emotionally, psychologically and spiritually.

Some of you out there have stepped up and said hello, commented on my blogs, called into the show and many have become a special universe of friends and supporters and encouragers... and are rugged angels about the world.

Thanks so much. Without your hellos into my corner of the world, jnetsworld would not have grown and evolved as it has. Thanks for your generous sharing.

JNET

Uncentering the Egomaniac in You

It's back to school month and in jnetsworld it is BACK TO SELF month.

Is your EGO getting in the way like a troll that calls the shots as to when you can cross the bridge?

We all have egos and they love to wear different masks and the particular one I am addressing this month is the fearsome troll that takes over one's better interest.

Last week in "Games Egos Play" we talked about the different masks one may find oneself wearing. Are you a certain person with your parents versus your friends or your colleagues? When you're the director of your life and you don't know that you're wearing a look that is no longer working for you and you are stuck in a script, how do you evolve to enjoy an authentic and spontaneous life?

Forgive yourself first and let's stop taking the stage too seriously. It's time to play in the prop closet and see what is there. Awareness doesn't have to be a scary thing.

This coming week's show is called, "Putting Away the Mask: Uncentering the Egomaniac in You." I'll be piecing my thoughts together and welcome your thoughts.

Call in to say hello.

JNET

Aren't We A Pair

The mathematician said hello yesterday evening.

The ironies of Life never cease to amaze me.

We toasted to J and C last night at a concert in Descanso Gardens. J and C brought two extremely busy and resistent people, myself and the mathematican to a lunch several years ago. Our respective relationships with J and C disintegrated (putting it lightly) but nonetheless, I loved the irony and thought it worthy of a toast.

In the spirit of Mozart's playfulness, we lifted our cups to defy past enmities while The Marriage of Figaro played. If ever I was to describe a cosmic explosion, then I have to say that such happened the day I met this enigmatic man. I once thought romantic love was a plebeian pursuit that brought less than ideal realizations.

The world shook again as I sat at his side and wondered where the white rabbit was. I enjoyed my evening in wonderland and wish I could find my way there. Why can't I find it without the mathematician? A part of me still wants to deny that he has such power.

There were some days that the mathematician seem more mythical than real. And the times I see him, reality feels fantastic.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

"Do you want to discuss metaphysics?"

"We can discuss nonsense or metaphysics, as long as we enjoy ourselves."

"So who was supposed to be your date tonight had I not come?"

"I had no date planned. S called last night to say he was playing in the orchestra and that he had a couple of tickets. I hadn't spoken to him in several months. This evening purely came out of spontaneity."

I didn't expect my invisible muse to make an appearance. I had grown comfortable with my epistolary hellos and never expected anything more than he be a listener and quiet force in my life.

Last night at the garden, all I could think of... was...

"Aren't we a pair?"

It was perfect. Two ascetics trying to navigate the terrain of a date. We laughed a lot and then we kissed goodbye.

Onto the romance of Life....

Hopefully, I will see my mathematician again.

JNET

Games Egos Play

Are you being played? By Your Self???

Do your friends know you as a different person than the folks at work? Are you a different person at home than with your family? If you are boogie-ing between roles that Life can sometimes scratch out a bad mix and you're living life thankful to not be caught between costume changes, then chances are you are living a life of pretense.

Elaborating Reality in an effort to sidestep boredom, living out a separate reality because everyone is so stinking narrow-minded that you NEED a mask, working to be DIFFERENT that it sometimes feels like indentured servitude, who is it really serving? Do you feel like master of your life or does it feel like the mask is mastering you?

It is said that "knowing thyself" is a key to happiness but what is going on when a day is an odyssey of bringing out different characters to the stage?


In the past I've done mask work on stage. Change your mask, change your body... mannerisms. It was fun to play with the changes. I became very conscious of details... of how to hold my hands, my head. There were no words. I had to speak with my body.

But what happens when you make a mask for yourself and you cannot go offstage without it? What happens if you outgrow a mask but you don't know how to take it off? What happens if you've been working from a script for so long and you no longer love the character that you've created?

In a world that cares about how you look, what does it take to present oneself in naked honesty? Some days we look fantastic, other days not as great.. and some days less than good.

For the month of September, our back to school theme is "getting back to the self" in the school of life.

We all have egos and sometimes they get in the way of possible worlds.

Tune in ... listen to the archives... call in to join the conversation.

JNET

Summer Serenade

I did not fall madly in love and get swept away into a world of romance this season. Instead I found my song; my inner melody.

I like it. I can dance to it and find that energy that leads and smiles as we go around the floor.... never letting me trip or fall.

I romanced Life this summer and despite uncertain moments, I never did let go of the embrace that held me through out the song. Tap tap, a passing suitor tried to grab my attentions. A couple of fellows tried to interrupt dances out of selfish ambition. The confusion of a moment did not destroy the rhythm and I found myself back in step and the gaze of my serenader gentle.

I am being serenaded by love, kindness and patience. What harmony can be made with noise?

I did not fall madly in love and find a summer romance. I found men who gave me flowers who loved to eat roses. I found men who looked at jewelry as leashes and never understood sparkle. I found men that insisted on a dance but only knew the mosh pit and not a ballroom.

Funny, despite the disruptions; I found myself. I found my melody, my song and that it was Life that wishes to romance me.

JNET

Designer Guilt

Last week's show at blogtalkradio.com/jnetsworld people shared about pressing forward in life despite having breakdowns and taking on Life's lessons. Is the lack of a specific ingredient the cause of Inertia or Stagnancy in Life? Does Life get any easier EVER?

What moves mountains toward change? Curiousity, boredom, guilt, desire for more out of life ... are factors... But what is it exactly that projects ALL that?

The discussion lead to talking about Guilt, something that slows down progress... sometimes to a standstill.

What is Guilt? Does it come from an organization, a building, a special interest group? How did it get "fashionable" for some groups that there is now Jewish guilt, Catholic guilt, perfectionist's guilt, etc?

It's more than that Uh-Oh feeling. I'm talking about that lingering weight that hangs heavier than any gray cloud. I'm talking about that incessant voice that nags and belittles. It whispers. It screams.

How did that voice get in there? In our heads? Where did we find that voice?

Is it the voice of mom; spurning a statement of disappointment? Is it the voice of FATHER; an anvil of judgement? Is it the voice of the others that you've surpassed or survived; voices indignantly declaring that you SHOULDN'T have lived that accident or that you DIDN'T DESERVE that promotion?

Whatever GUILT is, some know its voice louder than others.

But is it fair to say it comes from mother, from father, from around us? Is it doing one any good this Jewish guilt, Catholic guilt, white guilt, survivor's guilt? There are SO MANY type of guilt that you can try on a new one every day and not go OUT OF STYLE.

But is it your fashion? How does guilt play in the designer's mind when you're working on making your life a work of art? Why paint depression or frustration into life?

If only you didn't go to church or have religious parents...
If only you didn't have such a sensitive consciousness to goodness...
If only you weren't so focused on wanting to do things perfectly and right....

WHY THEN it would be easy to not be racked with guilt.

Can life be any easier?

Perhaps...

Check out Designer Guilt on blogtalkradio.

JNET

Playing Private Eye

What initiates change?

That was the question I bounced with friends this week... also the topic for tomorrow's blogtalkradio show. In playing with several answers... "change is" inspired by pride, fear or hate of boredom, a need for variety, diversity, ... because it's the "right thing to do."

I wondered if these "reasons" were simply clues to a bigger WHY.

It isn't enough for me to look at these "encouragements" as big enough definitions of 'WHY', why change, why be flexible, why choose one's particular paths.

I next became distracted by theories of the why nots of my life. If I want change in parts of my life, why am I not creating it in other parts of my life?

I want to practice the piano more than I am. My technique is going to the wasteside. Why am I not going to bikram class when I adore it? Why am I not going to dance rehearsal this season? Why don't I concern myself with dating like everyone else? I detoured onto a tiny guilt trip that lasted for a mini minute.

Guilt trips are like merry go rounds. They are not fun once they start moving at a disconcerting speed and they are a bit dim about stopping on their own. I'm the person responsible for taking myself off the guilt trip and choose an action... Waiting to be saved is not an option. I read somewhere that if you want to change your dance, first you must change the music...

So can it be that whatever is missing and is creating the kNOTs in Life be also what is needed to make the WHY YES paths clear? This is the conversation that will be taken up at Blogtalkradio on Saturday morning.

JNET

I Love Miniature Books

I visited the "4000 Years of Tiny Treasures" exhibit on miniature books at the Boston Public Library. If you haven't seen the enchanting collection, you have until September 2nd to catch a glimpse of these precious gems.

I rarely leave home without a book... I had no idea that it is possible to fit a modest library in a coin purse. The Koran, the Good Book, the complete works of Shakespeare, and an illustrated miniature book by Picasso (he made only two) sat under the glass like jewels on display. Many were gilded in gold, bound in leather and colorful with intricate art design.

It felt like I was given a peek into a fairy queen's private collection. They held a magical quality and I wanted to touch them, give them a read through and let the spell of a tiny book take me to its little world. Anne C. Bromer, the "fairy queen" of the collection shared a beautiful and rare collection.

It was my last day in Boston before returning to Los Angeles that I saw the "Tiny Treasures" exhibit and I still think of those books. They are indeed enchanting.

The exhibit continues through September 2. Go before the fairies take it back to their world!

Floating

I have been swimming laps in my head. It's been the battle of the wits for the past couple of months, that I hadn't written of the details that kept me sane and balanced. A couple of friend betrayals/surprises, homefront worries, car troubles, income woes and a 4.5 (mild) earthquake has made life interesting and indulgent.

And if the world-at-large was not demanding at the moment - then I made busy with my free time to analyze the situations and design a plan to handle things and improve on this game of life.

"I need to laugh less... a lot less."

Am I being hypercritical of myself? I listen and study my blogtalk radio shows... dissecting my presentation, planning my next show with less laughter. My nervous habits distract me. And I realize my listening of my guests will improve when I get a handle on my jitters.

"I need to exercise more, eat better, moisturize more."

S0mehow, between the laps of splashing in my concerns, I manage many moments to float and enjoy a meal with a friend, read more pages in a book, take care of a garden, visit an exhibit, enjoy traveling to visit friends and family... many things that ought to be noted in my blog ... those things that kept me afloat.

JNET

Dizzying Freedom

"Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom."

Soren Kierkegaard

Hmmm... a positive way to view anxiety.

It's way better than experiencing anxiety as a weighty burden to be saved from. I've had much on my plate lately and Anxiety has been riding shotgun on my rollercoaster. Among the many pieces of advice to "save myself from struggle" the worst one is that I ought to get married. Good God! How can anyone weigh in that Love is a factor when the motivation of Convenience breathes heavily on someone's head?

Fortunately my love supply from friends and family is abundant that I can't even begin looking at a guy in a savior light.

This past month, this past week has been FULL of DRAMA.

Yesterday, I spent the morning in court to give my two cents at a public hearing. Developers have been hungrily staring at my building and think it's perfect for tearing down and selling 900K condos. I did my civic duty. It was nice to be addressed at "Miss JNET, constituent".

The prior week, I learned of the hearing. What? My building is up for demolition?

I so NOT have the time for this.... It's enough just to worry about daily life... to have to worry about where to live and how... yadda yadda... puts my mind into outer space. But a tractor beam of sense came about and I found myself on the phone, knocking on doors and making new contacts.

I thought I had enough to think about. Life is running at a dizzying and sometimes nauseating speed. And yet, I can't say that Life is having a personal go at me. I have to forgive Life and find a way to say thank you. I'm up late writing to neighbors and council people. I'm up writing for my blog, my book, my radio show. I'm enjoying the students I have and I'm taking the extra time off in stride before my schedule goes crazy again.

Anxiety is not hopelessness to me... it is to experience the dizzyness of freedom.

Life does get better... Doesn't it? Such is the topic for tomorrow morning's blogradio show of Jnetsworld. Call in if you're free :)

JNET

Take the Spotlight I Like How The Light Falls On Me Right Here

While I watch the frantic fight for center stage quietly from the wings, I begin to learn things about this place called Los Angeles. Not only is the sun searing, forcing the natives to "dress down" and provocative becomes banal but so is the competition for survival that hunger lends to a predatory dynamic.

The sexy shock value, the forced "larger-than-life" personalities and utter confusion that follows some people here makes for some interesting navigating. No, not everyone here is nuts.

I've learned that the millionaire next door switched on survival mode will have a lot in common with the starving artist. They both will fight and people on survival mode have no time to contemplate values or doing good for their fellow man. They'll do their "goodness" AFTER they are rich and famous.

I've been taught that money is NOT evil rather that it magnifies and exposes the qualities a person ALREADY has. A generous spirit is not borne overnight especially after years of stepping on people and other neurotic behaviors that steam roll over one's beloved humankind.

I wish I didn't have to gain an education on "steam rollers in my neighborhood" but perhaps that is LIFE. Maybe there are nutty people everywhere fighting for plates of recognition. Meanwhile, I step back... I'm not part of the same cast... of this sad comedic carnage. I entertain thoughts of moving. I go out and make new friends and am constantly throwing hungry lions out the door.

Life sometimes feels like a circus. Sometimes I get to walk around with cotton candy and other times, I have to crack a whip and manage a lion cage.

What would be REALLY nice is if I found someone to watch life with and laugh. Because there is more to life than survival.... especially at my circus.

JNET

Priming the Mind

"Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow."

Albert Einstein

Is it possible to extreme make-over your mind?

PRIME: (verb) 1. To make ready; prepare 2. To prepare (a surface) for painting by covering with size, primer, or an undercoat. 3. To inform or instruct beforehand; coach.

PRIME: (noun) 1. First in excellence, quality, or value.

I am reading a book called "Blink" by Malcolm Gladwell (author of The Tipping Point). I am on Chapter Two: "The Locked Door: The Secret Life of Snap Decisions" and am particularly fascinated by a test that psychologist John Bargh had devised. Simple enough tests to unscramble words but they weren't as straightforward as they appeared. What appeared to look like a language test was really a test on the adaptive unconscious.

Here's a few of the examples used in the Blink book...

sky the seamless gray is
us bingo sing play let
shoes give replace old the

Go ahead and unscramble the words to make a simple sentence. I struggled a bit, got a headache and then put it aside. There are key words that the psychologist found SUGGESTED to the mind to THINK being OLD. He changed the test and sprinkled in words like "bold", "rude," and another "respect" and "courteous" and then had a PART two experiment, the people tested were then told to talk go out and speak to someone for their next assignment (the next someone was "engaged" in a staged 10 minute conversation with another person. Those who were primed with the aggressive words interrupted on average after about 5 minutes. But the people primed to be polite NEVER interrupted.

Several examples of tests followed where people were primed to think about what it would mean to be a professor, to think about pranks, to think about race before taking a test. The test results showed that priming the mind affected the test results.

Is free will an illusion? How much of the time are we running on auto pilot? How susceptible are we to outside influences?

Priming the Mind was the topic of my blog radio show today. Though I "primed" myself with being committed to doing the show, I also was dealing with residual stress of very little sleep and recovering from car trouble anxieties from the day before. I had not done as much preparation as I usually do, I did not have a special guest and I did not invite my friends to call in.

It was a great recipe for struggle and I languished during the first half of the show before I got that talking about positivity is one thing and acting is another thing. Normally when having a bad day, I would have friends for support or I would relax, play the piano, read a book... DO SOMETHING.. but I was anchored to the show and the moment.

And so I did the only thing that made sense to be happy and stop struggling... I did not cut off the show short, instead, I just left the show for a moment, I disappeared and called a friend to call in and keep me company.

If I'm here to write about priming one's mind toward success and happiness, it doesn't make sense to languish in struggle forever. I didn't want to archive failure into my blogtalk radio files. The second half of the show demonstrates not entertaining the doldrums and using some sense to turn things around.

JNET

Flying Notions

A lot of life can be lived in 48 hours...

I thought it would be a nice surprise to visit my mom for her birthday and have a quick visit with my brothers... En route, I side-stepped a marriage proposal with all the trappings to make any normal girl swoon. Unfortunately, I am not that "normal" girl and anyways, I'm not dating anyone so its surreal to have affections and devotions bubble from the platonic pool.

G: "Tell your mom that I've asked you a gazillion times to marry me..."

Even Mystic had a line for mom as I made way to visit her ...

M: "Say hello to my future mother-in-law...."

Mom would be thrilled to hear that I found a knight in shining armor. In my eyes, they all look like they are polishing... Shining? No... not yet.

So I landed at my brother's. I let my mom play with her friends and told her that I'll see her in the morning for her birthday. I wanted to play with my niece and have a gander at the family's newest addition.

I did not sleep until 3:30am. I did not write. I did not read... I instead held my brother's inconsolable baby; fed and burped the cute creature while my brother played catch up with house stuff while his wife rested. (She was to take the 5am shift)

Any romance of babies I had was brought to a halting reality... Children are a load of responsbility but WOW. There is really no room for a creative quiet thought to wander to have a life of its own when there's a screaming one in your arms with a direction of its own.

It would be nice to fall in love. It would be nice to have children of my own someday... But, I am having trouble seeing how I may enjoy a certain unfetteredness that IS my identity through my current prospects. I cannot phantom giving up the space I have and need for free stream of thought.

I ignore incoming calls and even live people when they walk into my house and I am practicing the piano or writing. I'm the girl who sometimes checks her phone messages at the END of the week.

I adore my nieces all the same and woke up to find my brother asleep on the couch with his newborn finally quiet and asleep on his chest. My college roommate gave me a call...

C: "Let's meet up for lunch and play catch up."

I found my car dead in my brother's driveway. It seems that the battery went out over the night. Mom was busy and she said her mechanic was booked full for the day. My brother dropped me off to meet with C for lunch where she was hanging with her parents and her husband. It was a short visit to play catch up. I wasn't eating for I had plans with my family...

Fast forward a few hours and I was with THE CLAN. I didn't get to look after my car because the shop closed, having no opening for me and I figured Mr. AAA can test my battery for me when he charges it up. I enjoyed family time, took loads of pictures, laughed, and watched mom get all misty eyed and happy to have her ducklings in a row. We had a good time.

Mr. AAA did not bring his battery testing equipment. He got my car running and I decided to chance the 150 mile drive home. They only tow 100 miles and I was beyond the limit. I figured if I could just get 50 miles north, I might get all the way home or at least save the $300 towing fees. If I stayed at mom's there was no guarantee that my car was going to get fixed. Her mechanic is a fervent lover of Japanese cars... Mine is German.

I made it home by 5am. The car story is an adventure of its own. I spoke to a dozen people and made for a memorable night for my mom. I think there is a happy ending, it's still in process though. Despite the chaos that Life delivers, there is nothing like the silence that I know as my bestfriend.

I am the girl who does want everything; silence, love, babies, adventure, travel. I saw fleeting glimpses of what is possible... but I have a specific vision and dream and that is what I live toward.

JNET

When Life Serves You Lemons...

Sometimes learning to give Life that certain "twist" isn't an exciting endeavor. Sometimes Life's "twists" are an awful tangle; a seemingly terrible dance in which one can't leave the room. More often than we may prefer Life serves a bag of lemons and forces us to be master lemonade makers; the subject of this week's blogtalkradio/ jnetsworld.

While some of us forge through Life in rooms full of rotting lemons, some of us will practice the alchemy of making gold out of Life's unexpected gems.

Darling, I know how to make a strawberry lemonade, an Arnold Palmer, a lemon twist, and a lemon drop martini and though I sometimes wish I can face someone off with a lemon pie, I've learned to sit out the heat and know the comfort of a good and honest glass of lemonade.

So what recipes have you learned in your own Lemonade University? Who were your professors? Your parents, your neighbors, your lovers, your enemies, your television programs???

And if you're still sucking on your seventh day, month, year or decade of lemons... Why has it become your preferred flavor? Luckily, most of us have figured out how to sugar up the sour times or see that a little bit of lemon has the power to excite an otherwise predictable and bland life.

Interestingly enough, as I reflect upon my earliest lemony moments, I would like to declare that it is all my mom's fault. Disagree away and be disagreeable she encouraged; it was our freedom of expression in the space of what appeared like chaos and discord. It took several years of matches did I understand the game and found that she wasn't being a total weird toad and we both enjoyed serving it up.

I've flown the nest and didn't earn my lemonade stand degree until after college. Life had a few make-up courses. I had to learn to make peace when I'd rather put on my running shoes. I found that I was pre-programmed in ways that didn't create the autonomy I wished for my personal goals. I had a few bags of lemons laying about.

What is a girl to do except learn to get cooking. I am not a lemon farmer.. I'm a freakin creative lemonade maker.

This Life has not been roses, lollipops and sunshine 24/7. I wasn't borne into that Life. Has anyone? No matter what one's station in Life is, no one is immune to disappointment, regret, heartbreak or pain. Everyone has tasted lemons.

Sometimes it seems that I get a new batch every week and the only thing I can do is be quick... slice it up and serve it fresh and enjoy sitting out the heat with a new recipe for Life.

I saw a picture of a few kids minding their own lemonade stand this past week. What were they raising funds for? A new toy? Candy money? No... they were raising money to help out victims of a terrible disaster.

A lemonade stand for peace? A lemonade stand to bring comfort and support to others and make for a better world?

Why not?

What are you doing with YOUR lemons?

JNET

Life Isn't Black and White... nor Red, White and Blue

The fireworks fanfare faded fast.

By dawn everything I thought was ... came to a screeching halt. My host and friend of many years had a moment of weakness in the twilight hours and made a passive assault. Alcohol was not the "cause", I gave no social cues to permit his behavior and I banked on years of friendship as well as a wealth of common friends to create what I thought was a trust.

No I did not kung fu beat his booty into a far horizon. How to speak volumes to a passive aggressor who makes attacks on sleeping beauties? I'm stunned. I'm creeped out. My enthusiasm has blown out like a candle and a part of me sits in silence....

I packed up my things and left, leaving a household of other friends...and chose not to expose my "host's" weakness. I am too shocked to pursue the conversation. If he wasn't a friend, calling the police would've been an option I wouldn't think twice to do. Years of loyalty thrown away to indulge a weak moment.

The offers for safer havens were numerous. I am a lucky girl. I don't think my host knew that I had several plan B's that would rise for the occassion. Perhaps I was an easy target in trusting the friendship... What type of person would bring such ruin?

Someone already in ruin. Shall I yell at him? Shall I bring the police? Shall I allow my friends a "few words" to set the man straight?

And I am sad. Sad to be betrayed by someone I thought was a dear friend. Disturbed that a friend would disrespect me and exercise a sense of power to diminish me and treat me like a soulless bag of flesh. Sad to be reduced to an object.

Despite all things, I poised myself for a strong return.... after spending a whole day listless and shocked. Detached... I don't know how I really feel.

I will not be a squashed flower... instead, I will rise gracefully and beautifully.

JNET

Lessons From Beethoven

How to overcome misery....

Mulling over the topic for my show, I landed upon Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, "Ode to Joy"

Who knows better about putting OUT misery than the maestro himself. He never heard a note of his final symphony. Beethoven was deaf. He had given up playing the piano years and years before he composed the "Ode to Joy." Frustration at hearing sound fade away must've been profound...

And in the complete deep silence where only he could hear his thoughts did he write his Ninth Symphony.

What is Joy? Beethoven postulates... Is it power and dignity he poses through his first movement... Is it playfulness and cheer? The second movement is a blizzard of laughing notes. Is it peace and tranquility? The third movement celebrates like a sunset saying good evening.

No, Beethoven says to all these suggestions.

The fourth movement mows down the roses, the poises, the blizzard of baby's breath and a theme swells from a tiny low voice; perhaps the voice that Beethoven hears in the silence. The familiar theme that we all know as his Ninth grows and develops and dances finally from the choir.

Beethoven in his despairing deafness DEFIES to be a silent miserable soul. Instead, he creates a masterpiece.

What is joy? What is it that Beethoven teaches?

Joy breathes in consciousness... in the ability to think beyond the circumstance.. Beethoven created beyond his deafness, beyond the cruelties from a violent parent, beyond the limits of the common minute... and created himself in a way that eternity can sing his soul's frustrations, his struggles, and his hope and joy.

That.... is living life as an artform.

Listen to my blogtalkradio segment on Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" with special co-host Miss Diva of Dysfunctional Diatribe.

JNET

Back in the Bay of Magic

Nevermind that I was delayed in Denver for 5 hours. I finally landed in Boston long past the midnight hour. After a couple of bevvies, I bid my host goodnight and rested.

Today, K and I strolled Newbury and I found it easy to fall in love with the energy of Boston... the air of confidence, creativity and pride. Before I romanced life in Los Angeles, I had a love affair with Boston.

"When are you moving back?" Is the question everyone asks.

Someday is what I think but my visit makes me want to say the answer is "As soon as I can."

I'm enjoying a comfortable life in Los Angeles with a world I adore. I'll make my way to Boston when its a feasible upgrade. I don't want to return to student quarters living. I've done the student ghetto lifestyle and won't take on a part two in returning to Beantown.

But the vibe is definitely beautiful. I hung out at my friend's local "Cheers" where at least a dozen folks made way to our table during the course of the evening to chat and say hello. The conversations ranged from discussing politics, the media, physics, technology and music.... not light-weight topics but definitely discussed in a light-hearted manner. The beers and sangria helped. Maybe the garden gnomes too.

'Where people know your name.' is Boston for me. While walking down Boylston from the Public Garden, I bumped into a friend of mine.

"Hey, I lost touch with D. She hasn't answered my emails." he said.

"No way. Well you connected me to her a couple of years ago. Let's give her a ring."

I let him catch up with her on my cell phone while I enjoyed watching folks stroll by, current students coming out of the Berklee Performance building; a pair of Japanese guys playing Brazillian beats on a drum.

I was charmed by a mix of nostalgia and anticipation. It would be so easy to call Boston home once again.

JNET

Poised for the Season

Flamenco Hands

Sometimes confidence is only in the carriage.

I'm not feeling at my best and so I only hold my head up... and stifle a cough.

How miserable am I? I can recite of litany of circumstances and on the other side of those complaints, I have an abundance of things to be thrilled about.

Life is ALL THAT... I hold my breath and declare its perfection and hold my head high despite moments of disappointment, fear or fatigue. I skip the self-pitying nap and take a friend out to cheer THEM up.

Next month, after my return from the east coast, I will look into taking flamenco dance classes. The style speaks to me. It is proud, expressing strength, grace, control and skill... qualities I further wish to practice... and embody.... in my mind and in my body and spirit.

The season is full of promise though I miss the mathematician. I thought I can sit quietly with my heart yet Mystic fills the silence with his awkward hellos. I counter the confusion with projects that keep me busy and excited... my writing... my blog radio show... the piano and a full world of friends, activity and music.

I don't have time to indulge being sick nor tired. The music of Life plays on and I must step onto stage for my next number.

Now, if i can only get really good.... so that I can use the casanets..

Hmmm

JNET

The Glitches of Entering New Levels

"A single event can awaken within us a stranger totally unknown to us.
To live is to be slowly born."

Antoine de Saint-Exupery

It's all new terrain... this blogtalk radio thing.

Writing and being ready, energetic and on-the-air live every Saturday morning at 9am is my new commitment at stretching my comfort zone boundaries. And now every Saturday I meet my nerves in controlling my switchboard, keeping a topic focused, engaging and positive, and handling my 30 minutes gracefully...(Mad panic during the last couple of minutes.)

But before I'm even on the air, I am preparing my notecards, fumbling with dialing into my host line (darn... what's that number AGAIN?) and wondering how to jump into my introduction as my show's music initiates. (It's like playing jump rope)

The art of a smooth entry amuses me. I don't have the luxury of being able to fade my music... it is "push stop and there you go"... endeavor.

Into the live internet wilderness I go with at least one friend to keep me company while a mysterious public listens. I torture myself at the end of each show by listening and critiqing my performance straight after.I need to speak with more energy. I need to slow down and stop sounding like I'm a runaway train. I need to take my time and deliberate my thoughts.... I need to control my nervous energy... I need to... I need to... I need to...

UGGHH. It's a painful learning process of trial and error. I've happily blogged in silence for a couple of years. Now I'm stretching myself into public speaking. It is so tempting to push that delete button... Make the program disappear in thin air. But I archive it... the unpolished stepping stone of my journey.

Can I command a conversation between three? Can I command a conversation by myself to an invisible public? How far can I engage my voice? Can I eventually learn how to engage 1000 listeners? Can I control the gnawing temptation to delete my mistakes and strive within unbroadcasted perfectionist practicings?

Such are the thoughts in expanding my world.

JNET

The Illusion of Cycles

"Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending." Maria Robinson N: "JNET, I am stuck in a cycle." After some thought, something dawned on me. JNET: "N, is it possible to consider that the cycle does not exist. Perhaps the cycle is a superstition." A superstition? Those cycles of failures in life, one's shortcomings... a superstition? Why not? Some people follow superstitions for good luck, some create the opposite. It seems more expansive to take on a spiral paradigm, that one's slinky is either ascending or descending... depending on where one intends to move along... Whether one progresses on not is not a cycle... it's inertia. To believe in only seeing the recurring "cycle" of life's failures and mishaps sounds like a way to adopt superstitious notions and dropping one's power... and responsibility... SUPERSTITION: an irrational belief arising from ignorance or fear Some thoughts to play with. "do not bend the spoon, that is impossible" there is NO spoon

Again, Rest Eludes Me

Next week I leave for Boston.

It is my favorite place to be alone though I have many friends there and Boston seems to be the only place I actually relax for a span of time that extends over 24 hours.

Why do I have such a terrible time at un-winding?

Maybe because in Boston, I don't have to worry about driving. All work is satisfying and my training is better respected.

I have wonderful friends everywhere but the feeling that I have a less strong leg to stand on the western coast unsettles me. In the east coast, my students commuted through snow and rain to make their commitments whereas in sunny CA, I have students that cancel or quit on a lark because they "feel that they need to" and some demand that I owe them a lesson.... on my free time.

Such students lowers my morale. Funny how tiny splinters can make great pains.

It takes me some time to recover. Fortunately, the majority of my students are excited about having more time to play and practice over the summer.... one has requested a lesson every day for the last week of school as she prepares a "gift" for her teachers.

I wake up early hours to broadcast two shows a week and write... I practice and study and prepare during the morning. I teach through the afternoon and evening... I see my friends in the later evening.

Enjoying the positives that give me energy, I get flattened by car issues and cancellations. Sometimes a student has no idea what I had to go through to make it to my time with them.

What would the world be if everyone actually kept their word and their commitments?

Would Life have less traffic jams?

JNET