The sky broke out in pink clouds on Thursday morning.  I’ve been told that red skies in the morning are a sign of impending bad storms.  But the sky looked so much like a drawing from a Dr. Seuss book that I decided it was an omen to lighten up and embrace that Seuss life.

It’s been a heavy couple of weeks.  The world feels upside down. And my personal life does, too. And when that happens, it’s easy to get serious and lean into anger.   But we can also get creative and laugh about it.  This week, I chose the latter, and while it didn’t change reality, it did take the edge off.

Today, my 7-year-old daughter brought her hand-made slime into the car and proceeded to get it stuck in everything from the seat belt to her shoelaces.  We had to pull over on the side of the road for 15 minutes to deslime everything.  And all I could do was laugh.  I laughed til I cried.  I like to think Dr. Seuss was laughing down at me from his pink clouds under a Truffula tree in a Bar-ba-loot suit.

Reader, reality is what it is, but our outlook is whatever we make it.  Wishing you a week of light and hilarity, and I’m wishing myself the same.  It never hurts to find joy. I’ll see you next Monday. -Em

I went into Chicago today to record a few songs with my friends Gregg, Gerald, and John.  I was hungry and thought the guys might be hungry too, so I stopped at a store this morning to get some food.

That’s where my wallet—including all the cash I had saved for recording—was stolen.

After the worst week I’ve ever had at restaurant, today was a real kick in the pants.  I had hoped for a breezy day, and instead it was the reverse.  Which is uncanny, because one of the songs we recorded today is called “The Reverse.” And when we launched into that tune, I just started laughing.  I’ll be damned if the universe doesn’t have a sense of humor. 

Reader, here’s something I know for sure: bad shit is going to happen to us.  Sometimes, the world feels like it’s more bad than good. But today was a reminder that the world around us may deal a rotten hand, but we get to choose how we respond to it.

I read a Latin proverb this week that says, “If the wind will not serve, take to the oars.”  I loved it.  This week—when the world takes the wind from our sails—let’s row our own damn boat. I’ll see you next Monday. -Em

My family spent this afternoon on the forest floor watching the solar eclipse. After a week of ups-and-downs at the restaurant, I was grateful for the calm from the woods and the reminder from the universe that we’re just tiny little things on a ball in space.

Between the eclipse and a few other major anniversaries this week, I’ve been feeling more reflective than usual. I miss my dad something fierce. You’d think as a grown-up woman with kids, the intensity of missing him would pass.  But it hasn’t.  Yesterday was his birthday, and I spent the day with wet eyes and heavy heart.  I’d give anything to see him again.  His ashes are scattered in the forest, and after spending the day in it, it’s no wonder he’s weighing on my heart.

Reader, something about watching the moon pass before the sun today acted as another reminder that life is just so damn short.  If there’s a grudge you’re holding, let it go.  If you’re withholding love for any reason—stop it.  I wish today that I would’ve spent more time with my dad, learning how to love him instead of focusing on how different we were.  Because no matter how many songs I write about him, I still can’t get back those wasted years.

Let’s love big and forgive quick this week.  Keep taking it all in, and I’ll see you next Monday. -Em

My kids were on spring break from school last week. Once we tested negative for Covid, we hit the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago, and we caught the Michael Jordan documentary in the dome theatre. I was so inspired listening to him talk about his life approach, especially when it came to anger.

He says in the film that—every time he was denied a spot on a team or was told that he wasn’t good enough at a skill—he would get frustrated.  Then he would channel all his anger into getting better, believing that with enough work and optimism on his end, he would be able to accomplish anything.  He was always the first person on the court for practice, and the last one to leave.

That classic rock jam was right: I wanna be like Mike.

Reader, today marks the beginning of April, and I’m focusing every bit of my frustration on songwriting (to hone my craft) and clearing our woods (to clean my soul).  I've been wrestling with some hard feelings lately, and I'm grateful to have a place to put them. If you’ve got any extra angst about anything, I invite you to join me. Nothing puts anger in its place like putting it to good use. 

Wishing you focus and positivity this week. Harness those feelings. See you next Monday. -Em

Well, we've all got Covid in our house.  We're fine, but beat.  Resting and eating soup.  I'll get back to blogging when we're out of the woods.  Stay healthy, Reader,  See you next Monday. -Em

Early morning songwriting felt especially needed this week.  Sometimes I shock myself with the words that come out of my mouth.  It’s before the sun comes up—and before my mind switches on—that my feelings can easily find their way to the surface.

Turns out I’ve been holding on to more hard feelings than my waking mind wants me to admit.  Yesterday’s song was especially dark. Deliciously dark. I wrote it quickly and smiled like crazy when I finished it.

And then old ‘people pleaser’ Emily reared her ugly head, and I instantly felt guilty for making something other people won’t like. Damn…that girl.

Reader, it will be lifelong challenge for me not to care what others think of me.  Even in the quiet corners of my home when I’m all alone, I still wonder whether others will like or not like what I'm making.  It’s a lame and exhausting way to live.  Fortunately, every year that passes, it gets a little easier not to care about the potential judgement of others.  And it’s only in the past 5 years that I’ve really discovered how to identify when I’m doing it so I can let go more quickly. 

This week was a reminder: be selfish, for your creativity’s sake.  Let’s not waste a minute of our creative energy this week on wondering if what we make is likable: if we like it, that’s all that matters.  I’ll see you next Monday. -Em

Between the restaurant, songwriting, and home, it’s been a week of hard work.  And today I just spent 5 hours pressure washing around the house. 

I’m bushed. But happy.  It feels good to be sore.

In the middle of the work week, the kids decided we needed more adventure in our weekday lives.  So we all loaded in the back of the truck and explored a local park, threw the frisbee, and watched the geese.  Sometimes I forget how much of my hometown I still must explore.

Reader, if you too find yourself mired in the day-to-day grind, feeling helpless as you scroll through your newsfeed, don’t forget the power of small adventures.  Those little get-a-ways up the street can help reset us in a way that restores our peace of mind, or at least make us better able to cope with what life deals us.  I’m going to incorporate more of them into my life this week.  I hope you can as well. 

Wishing you tiny surprises and glimmers of hope this week. They're out there. See you next Monday. -Em

I headed to the U.P. this past weekend for a little writing sabbatical with my family.  I was hoping to spend the bulk of my time outside in the snow with the kids, but with this extreme March weather, there wasn’t much snow. 

Bummed out, I decided to pivot.  Instead, we walked through the woods and came up with games we never would have played if everything had gone according to plan.  And I even got in some music time with my cousins where I learned how to jam out on the melodica.

Reader, I write a lot about the beauty of plans changing, and this week is no exception.  I don’t know about you, but the majority of my life plans have changed.  Almost every one of them.  Yes, there’s a hell of a lot disappointment when things don’t work out the way they should in my head.  But then it gives way to something else.    In my darkest days, it’s nice to be reminded that—as long as I’m open and make it a mission to give and receive good things—there will always be light on the horizon. 

Let’s give generously to ourselves and others this week.  See you next Monday. -Em

I've started a new kind of writing project with a friend of mine. We spent the weekend brainstorming (and also drinking a new concoction we invented: gin, ginger beer, and carrot juice.  I highly recommend it).  Writing with her was the most alive I've felt in a long time.  That "lightning in your veins" feeling is special.  It makes you feel unstoppable.  

It’s taken the majority of my life, but I’ve come to the revelation that nothing good in life comes from being hard on ourselves.  Literally nothing. 

This week, I failed at everything I tried to accomplish when I was putting emotional pressure on myself.   For example, I’m in an on-line music recording class, and it frankly isn’t going well.  Not because of the class, but because of me.  I’ve been mentally flogging myself through the whole experience.  So it’s no wonder I’m not “progressing.”

In contrast, when I try to accomplish a task by seeking joy, it’s almost always successful.  At my restaurant, we had another amazing wine dinner. And it’s because the entire event was put forth by trying to feel and create joy for my team and our guests.

I think I tend to have more success at the restaurant than I do in my music career lately because my relationship with my restaurant is to lift it up, whereas my relationship with myself is to put down.  That can’t be good. Time for a new inner dialogue.

Reader, if you’re also the kind of person with an inner voice that makes you feel bad, let’s try to quiet it down, ok?  We’re not here for that.  This week, let's seek the same joy for ourselves that we do for others, and see what magic comes from it.  I’ll see you next Monday. -Em