It’s been a long time percolating. Even the finest roasted coffee, if left on the heat too long, gets bitter tasting. I cannot avoid blogging anymore.

What do I have to say that matters? Am I the only one that worries about this? Not likely. One of the things that have always kept me from taking the leap in many creative areas of life has been this: What if I suck? What if I’m boring? That would certainly be a fate worse than death.

Earlier in my life, I kept a journal. I got out of the habit, largely because the demands of life as a wife, mother (dog walker, chicken feeder, bottle washer) and now a business owner, have pushed many of my former pleasures aside. For example, I’m not anxious to drink five beers a night anymore. Heavy drinking has lost much of its luster. Who has time? I kid! Sort of. Definitely.

The truth is that time to write is a luxury that I just haven’t had lately. When you become a mom, especially, as I did, a little later in life, time becomes very precious. If I have a choice between sitting down to write a few lines of wellness or business tips or, say, taking a bath, the bath wins. Who doesn’t love a nice bath?

But I’m running out of excuses and I simply can’t skirt it anymore. I must blog. A business mentor of mine gently nudged me during a recent group training session. He spoke about my writing skills (as though he’s read something I’ve written which, beyond over-long emails and Facebook posts, I don’t think he has) and he was very complimentary. I already have a reputation to which I must live up. No pressure.

Blogging, here I come.

I have life-long close friendships with professional writers. One of them was even nominated for a Pulitzer Prize as a playwright. So, I tend to compare and I come up short. That same friend told me recently that she used to love getting letters from me when we were back in high school and when she was in college. I am very flattered by her comments, and it has bolstered my confidence… a bit.

At any rate, this is my second start. The first one was a couple of years back when I discovered WordPress and found myself signing up and writing a post before I knew what hit me. I wrote one post and I stopped. I haven’t gone back to look at that post, but I suspect it had a similar confessional tone as this. You shouldn’t expect any less from a good (well, pretty good) Catholic girl.

The title of this post is apropos because I spent a good portion of my life singing. I sang in bars. I sang at weddings. I sang on stage, in the shower, and in the car. I sang at the Apollo Theater in Harlem. I found my way into the studio as a demo and background singer and occasional jingle singer. I even wrote and recorded a few of my own songs. Too few.

The music career I fashioned was a bit like a game of Whack-a-Mole. I did the gigs that came my way. I never had a specific goal or a grand vision for my music career. I loved to sing and I was (still am) pretty good at it. I just never seemed to find my own unique musical identity. Life goes on. Oh boy, does it…if you’re lucky.

When I envision what I will create on these blog pages, I imagine a place where the journey continues, albeit somewhat publicly. Growth will take place. No doubt I will be stumbling about a bit. I’m very much looking forward to your company along the way!

My intention is simply to share something that others will find helpful. Whether wisdom gained from failures and successes I’ve had, tips gleaned during my pursuit of a healthier, longer (and, dare I say, happier) life or just crazy, fun things that happen to me and things I like. Most of all, I hope to provide value.

Please share your thoughts. Visit my links to find good stuff and come back again!



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