"If there's music inside of you, you've got to let it out." (From my song, Music Inside of Me)

Hi! I'm Trudy Rushin, and this is my blog, created in June 2009. I am a singer-songwriter-composer who plays guitar. Born and bred in Cape Town, South Africa, I blog about whatever captures my imagination or moves me. Sometimes I even come up with what I like to call 'the Rushin Solution'. Enjoy my random rantings. Comment, if you like,
or find me on Facebook: Trudy Rushin, Singer-Songwriter.

I also do gigs - solo, duo or trio - so if you're looking for vocal-guitar jazz music to add a sprinkle of magic to your event, send me an e-mail to guitartrudy@gmail.com.

To listen to me singing one or two of my original songs, type my name on www.soundcloud.com or www.youtube.com

Thursday, 15 February 2018

It's Not Music

I'm woken by the alarm, and I snooze once, twice, then disconnect. Make a mental note to change the irritating alarm tone. It's time to get up and face the day. I know what makes my heart sing - making music. Playing my guitar and singing. But not now. Now it's time for that drowsy morning routine. It's not music. 

I somehow get everything done and leave the house, optimistic that the day will hold something bright and magical for me. I drive to my place of work, in the bustling CBD, 21km from home. Depending on the time I leave, the trip takes anything from 30 to 90 minutes. Yes. It's what it is. And it's not music.

I enter a multi-storey building, drive up a curly road, and park my car in the same bay most days. Shake out my curls and wrap a scarf around my head, like a wannabe-turban. It gives me a sense of being different, earthy, and connected to scarf-wearing women all over the world. It's both eclectic and esoteric. But it's not music.

I get through my day, working mostly at a laptop, trying to make a contribution to the part of the world in which I live, and most of the time I feel I'm making a difference. I have a lifetime of experience and I take whatever I do seriously. But it's not music. 

It's time to go home, and I get back into my car and drive the 21km home, this time taking well over an hour and doing hiccup driving, mostly in first gear. I marvel at everything around me - Table Mountain in all its splendour, no matter what the weather or my mood, the difference between how men and women drivers change lanes, and of course the minibus taxi drivers, who flout all road rules, seemingly without the sense of accountability of the rest of us. I can get through this. But it's not music.    

Get home. Open windows, air the house, make supper, eat supper, wash up, prep lunch for the next day, do odd chores around the house, then do more office work. It's not music, but the possibility of making music is closer. I decide what to wear the next day, get through as much of my Trudy List as possible, rush rush rush, because if I have even 15 minutes, I can play guitar.  

On a good night, I write my Daily Pages (The Artist's Way) and do a dance workout, before my shower. It's not music, but now's my chance. 

I sit on my bed, smelling of vanilla and feeling a wonderful sense of peace and anticipation. I pick up my guitar, tune it, and strum ....softly.......the house is quiet.....it's sleeping time......don't make a noise, now.....strum very, very softly ..... and don't sing...... it's quiet time, now. 

Oh, damn!

Even the music is not music.  

Monday, 12 February 2018


In Oct 2011, I did what was the biggest original concert of my career thus far. Original, as in, we performed only my originals.

It was a night that will always stand out in my memory, for two reasons: one, professional, and one, personal. Professionally, I had managed to bring together four musicians I had admired for a long time, and done a concert of originals with them. Personally, I had the most bizarre experience, that night. I’ve never put this out in the public arena yet, but here goes - it’s my blog, and I write about my life. 
That night, I could see, from the stage, the faces of everyone in the audience. Everyone was smiling and √≠nto’ the music, looking supportive and appreciative, except two people, whose expressions were so unlike everyone else’s, that they came across as almost hostile towards me.  They were not sitting together – in fact, they were a few rows apart. It was a really weird thing to observe, and I tried hard not to be bothered by it. But it was particularly weird, because one of them was my boyfriend at the time, and the other was a woman I barely knew (I wondered who had sold her a ticket, as I had managed the ticket sales). Now here’s the twist in the tale – a few days later, I learnt that those two people, with their hostile-towards-Trudy eyes were, in fact, in a relationship.  Yup!!!

And life goes on. As an adult, some of the most awesome experiences in my life have happened around the same time as some of the saddest moments in my life. 

So here’s a little bit more about the concert itself. It was held at the Nassau Centre, in Newlands, Cape Town, in October 2011. The concept was a series of duo combinations within one concert, and then some songs with different permutations of the band. Because of the way they regarded my original music, I chose to work with Errol Dyers (acoustic guitar), Wayne Bosch (electric guitar) and Hilton Schilder (piano, khoi bow and percussion). Adding the bass was Alistair Andrews, who had been my first guitar teacher at Jazz Workshop, many years ago.

      Nassau, Oct 2011: Hilton, Trudy, Wayne, Errol & Alistair // Photo - Gregory Franz

A few weeks ago, I found the CDs of the concert, and listened, after more than 6 years!!! And you know what? I was shocked at how badly some of it had gone! Not only did we make loads of avoidable mistakes, but the volume balance on stage was so bad, that I could hardly hear myself. 
The most painful thing to me, though, is hearing that I did not sing well that night. I can hear, by how I sang, that I had not owned the experience – I had not owned the stage, and I had spent the whole night feeling overwhelmed by the people on stage. There are only a few songs on the recording that I really like. I can also hear that the person I was most comfortable with, and who knew my songs best, was Wayne. No surprise, as by then we’d been working consistently as a duo for almost three years.  

But here’s the thing – I’ve made peace with the fact that it was not a perfect concert. It’s art. Art is full of bumps along the road. I’ve done many performances with Wayne since then, which I’ve thoroughly enjoyed, and I look forward to doing a whole lot more. Also, in April 2014, I did a duo concert with Errol, at the District Six Homecoming Centre, which was one of the most enjoyable concerts I’ve ever done.  Firstly, it was a dream come true, to be playing a concert of my originals (with a mini-set of him playing and singing his originals) with one of my heroes, and to find him such a cool person to spend time with. Despite his massive reputation and being a local icon, he was warm, with a generous, sharing spirit, eager to help the next person.  His sincerity and the fun he had while making music made him an absolute delight to be around. I had only met him in 2011, but he became someone I respected and valued, and I will always miss him.

                                District Six Homecoming Centre, 2014 // Photo - Gregory Franz

So what’s the point? I can hear, from what I sounded like on stage, singing my originals, way back in 2011, that I was a very different Trudy then. I had been in a relationship for eight and a half years with a commitment-phobe – which was to end soon – which I hadn’t realised had affected everything else in my life.  I was clearly not as comfortable with myself then – both as a woman and as an artist -  as I am now.  When you’re secure and comfortable with who you are, you don’t let people mess you around. You honour yourself at all times.

I’ve always found my outlet in songwriting. Here are a few lines from my song,  ‘’Delighted’’:
‘’It was not until I went solo that I found out life needn’t be so
Very complicated and I needn’t be so blue
Found out that my heart beat to a samba beat
Not for me the drab and the morbid
Feel my passion moving me forward
Never will be caught up in that negativity
Gave it up sometime ago and now I am delighted to be free’’

                                      Erin Hall, 2013 // Photo - Gregory Franz

Thursday, 8 February 2018

I’ve Fallen Out Of Love

Have you ever fallen out of love? I have. More than once. More than I would’ve expected in one lifetime. What I eventually noticed was that, no matter who the person was, there was a distinct pattern to how falling out of love happened.

You have this person in your life, and you get a growing feeling that the relationship is wrong for you. You break up, and you feel better. But then the person contacts you, or you bump into him somewhere, you’re both still single, you have some laughs, you’re reminded of happier times, you decide it wasn’t so bad after all, and you reconcile. Shortly afterwards, all the old toxins reappear, you regret reconciling, and you split again. This can go on for weeks, months, or even years. Until, one day, you realise you have fallen completely out of love with him.

You’re so switched off, that you can’t imagine how you could ever have wanted to be in his company, let alone be intimate with him. You do whatever you can to avoid him. You make sure you don’t go where he’s likely to be.  You might even avoid people who hang out with him. You’re so done, it takes you by surprise!

When you reach that point, there is NOTHING anyone can say or do to make you give him another chance. You are so out of love, that you’re actually nauseated by him.  In fact, you’re deeply embarrassed to have been so publicly involved with him. Regret floods your veins, and you have to work on forgiving yourself.

Because you’ve broken up a few times, your friends don’t know how to handle your latest break up, so they mumble noncommittal platitudes, just in case you get back together again.  The thing is – YOU know, in your heart, that that door is permanently closed. But THEY don’t. For them, only the passage of time will reveal how resolute you were.   

I have felt that way a few times in my life. I know that feeling. I love it. It’s the opposite of doubt, fear and uncertainty. It’s that 100% certainty that you have turned your back on something that was bad for you, and you will NEVER go back again. It’s walking away from something that was preventing you from thriving, and from living your best life. It was begrudging you your magic, cutting off your opportunities, making you function sub-optimally, and causing you to be a lot less vital and vibrant.  

Well, this is how I feel right now, and I’ve felt this way for the past 31 days: I have fallen out of love with unhealthy food. Today was Day 31 of my new lifestyle.  I weigh myself every fortnight. On Day 14, I had lost 3kg. On Day 28, I’d lost another 2,2kg. I’d lost a total of 5,2kg in four weeks, through focussing on healthy food, and avoiding all bad carbs and sugars. Unlike other diets, the 30-Day Sleekgeek Reboot programme (based on the paleo diet) does not have portion control. In these 30 days, you’re retraining your brain and body to eat clean, unprocessed, healthy food.

                                                 An attempt at an omelette - still yummy. 

I eat five meals a day (roughly every three hours), and I prepare my daytime meals the night before. After 31 days, I have my system down to a fine art.

Do you know what’s the best part? I don’t miss or crave for anything from the ‘’not allowed’’ list! I really enjoy everything I eat, and I love putting my day’s meals together the night before.  I go to work with four little plastic containers, and that’s how I get through the looooong day at work.

                                               Brekkie - scrambled eggs with fresh stuff. 

In the morning, I eat eggs or oats. Oats are not allowed, but I can’t actually handle cooked breakfasts. At about 10am, I have a handful of nuts and seeds (and some raisins/cranberries/goji berries), which surprisingly staves off the hunger till 1pm. At lunch time, I have a plate of food, which consists of some kind of protein, and a lot of salad. At 4pm, I eat a little bowl of fruit salad or sliced fruit, and at 7pm I have supper, which is always protein, a hot veg or two, and salad. Throughout the day I drink water and green tea. Occasionally, I’d have a cup of coffee.

Within the first few days, I noticed my mood was lighter, and I felt happier and far more energetic. I also felt a lot more focussed, and could feel my productivity increase. 

My goal is to lose a total of 15,7kg. I’ll be working towards that goal, for as long as it takes, with a combination of the paleo diet, drinking lots of water, a dance workout every alternate day (my stamina is increasing, so I’m dancing for longer – and loving it!!!), mental exercises to keep myself focussed on my goals, and writing throughout my journey.

I have to acknowledge a few people for starting me on this wonderful, invigorating and rejuvenating journey:
1.       Chantel Erfort, who lost 33kg last year, and radically transformed her life. She’s my inspiration! She’s been my guide for the past 30 days, and probably for a lot longer!
2.       My son, Nick Geffen, who’s been eating healthy food for years, honouring his body in spite of my bad eating habits. What an example of “living your truth’’!
3.       Julia Cameron, author of The Artist’s Way, whose book pushed me right out of my comfort zone and propelled me into action in areas of my life where I was feeling stuck. (Read it!)
4.       Lisa Nichols (US author), whose own radical weight loss and motivational talks gave me the courage I needed to take the next step.
5.       Terry Crews, Anthony Robbins and so many others, whose motivational talks I watch online, and who have hard-hitting, powerful stories of their own about overcoming obstacles and rising higher than they thought they could. 

It is Day 31. I have lost 5.2kg. I have 10,5kg more to lose. I will weigh myself every 14 days, and I will write as I go along. This is my year of radical transformation.

                     I have a delicious chicken salad at my gig at Sabria's Restaurant on Saturday nights. 

I like to think of it as giving myself the gift of good health. And you know what’s extra special, in this materialistic world of ours? This is not something that money can buy – you have to rely on the resources within yourself.

 I have fallen totally out of love with unhealthy food, and totally IN love with what’s good for me.

                                                          27 Jan 2018, Day 20 of Reboot

Sunday, 14 January 2018

When you’re absolutely ready

Today marks Day 7 of a 30-day Reboot healthy eating programme I embarked on, along with about 15 others, under the guidance of Chantel Erfort Manuel.

Throughout 2017, I observed as Chantel steadily lost weight, the result of significant lifestyle changes (diet and exercise) she had made. Everytime I saw her, or saw photos of her on Facebook, I commented that I was inspired by her.

Towards the end of last year, on 30 October, I started working through The Artist’s Way, by Julia Cameron, a book I’ve referred to in recent blog posts. Through the exercises in the book, I developed a feeling of urgency about changing the areas of my life where I felt stuck. My physical condition was just one of them. I contacted Chantel and told her I wanted to start the journey she had taken, and she informed me that she’d be doing a 30-day reboot programme, which she would invite others to join. We started on Monday, 8 January, and I am officially on my way.

I won’t write too much about that, right now, although it’s so exciting, I could talk about it for hours.

What I want to write about is readiness. I have come to the conclusion that we can make certain decisions in life only when we are ready. Absolutely ready. You can leave a toxic work environment only when you are absolutely ready. Until then, you’ll complain and complain, but you’ll stay put. You can sever ties with a partner who makes you unhappy, only when you are absolutely ready. Until such time, you might complain to your close friends, you might even break up a couple of times, but only when you are completely ready to go through the pain of a break-up and walk into a new, unknown, scary future, will you actually leave. It’s the same with platonic friendships, which can also become unhealthy, for various reasons. You might put up with someone’s inappropriateness, disrespect, lack of support, or shallowness, for many, many years, but when you are ready, you will find the strength to walk away.

Being absolutely ready to break a pattern in your life means you fully understand that it no longer serves your best interests, and that it is, in fact, holding you back, preventing you from thriving. You know that the road ahead is unfamiliar, and you know that you might fail, but you so badly want to break with the past, that you take a leap of faith, knowing, in a way that you often can’t put into words, that this is RIGHT for you.

I am 56 years old, and I have changed the course of my life many times, each time knowing that I had outgrown the former course. And you know what? I don’t have a single regret about any of those decisions. Now that’s a good feeling. And you know what happens when you make changes in your life that turn out to be the best things you could’ve done? You start to know yourself, and - even better - trust yourself.

In 1985, I decided to stop eating red meat. In +-1990, I decided to stop going to church. In 2011, I decided never to drink anything alcoholic again (I wasn’t such a big fan anyway). In 1992, 2000 and 2011, I left serious relationships that had turned out to be stifling and wrong for me.

In 1996, I left my first job, as a primary school teacher, after 14 years. In 1999 I did a TEFL course and discovered a teaching methodology and industry that fascinated me and was to shake up my world for a total of ten years. I met amazing people from all over the world, as well as very special teachers, and I’m still friends with many of them today. Departing from my former occupation and lifestyle opened up my life in wonderful ways.

Life took some unexpected turns, and I found myself returning to teaching in the state sector, which was not something I thought I’d ever do. Then it was back into TEFL, but retrenched after almost 3 years. Ouch! Rug pulled out from under my feet! In 2011 and 2012, I did short stints as a substitute lecturer at a college, which eventually led to my accepting a permanent post there, a year later. However, after 3 years and a bit, the restlessness returned, and it was time to move. This time, I didn’t change just teaching posts – I changed careers. And that, at age 54!

I’ve grown to appreciate that this is a personality type, and that, for many people like me, it’s not at all how we were raised. But it’s who you essentially are that ultimately pushes through – regardless of your socialisation. Live your truth, figure things out as you go along, don’t be scared to change your mind, be unapologetically yourself, take calculated risks. Not easy, but oh so doable.

Which brings me back to the 30-day reboot challenge. Unlike other times when I’ve gone on diets, I have a completely different set of goals, this time. This is about so much more than losing weight: it is an investment in myself, an investment in a healthier life in my 60s, 70s, etc.

These are some of my thoughts, 7 days into the programme:
1.    I enjoy everything I eat.
2.    I am not missing any of the carbs I thought I couldn’t live without.
3.    I have a feeling of excitement about life.
4.    I am happier and lighter in spirit.
5.  I am becoming more organised in other parts of my life, as a result of having to be so organised with my meals.
6.   Eating in such a disciplined way has reminded me that I am capable of being extremely disciplined, and I am dancing regularly again.
7.    I am on a Whatsapp support group with the others on our programme, and on a Facebook support group with people from all over, who are on various weight-loss and fitness programmes -  these people inspire me immensely.
8.  The person coaching us through the journey lost 33kg in one year, through sheer discipline, determination, and with the support of her loved ones. Her success inspires and motivates me.
9.   Today I rediscovered something about myself: I am intensely motivated to succeed by something really strange - someone’s belief that I will fail! Haha!
10.  And lastly, I would like to eventually inspire others to take the same journey towards a healthier lifestyle, just like Chantel inspired – and continues to inspire - me.

I have 23 more days on this programme, and I would like to lose at least 3kg in the 30 days. And what will I do after the 30 days? I’ll know when I get there. All I know is, I’m in it for the long haul. This is about my quality of life.

Like I’ve said before: I’m alive, so I might as well be very alive!

Friday, 5 January 2018

The passage of time

My last official day of holiday. I could never understand why people said that kind of thing, before, but now I do: I would’ve been home for the weekend anyway, so the last two days of my leave aren’t really leave days.

Recently, I’ve found myself waking up with a feeling of dismay at the passage of time. So weird! I don’t know if it’s an omen, or just part of the Standard Middle-Aged Package. Of course, by the time I get out of bed, I have a mental To Do list and I’m up, up and away. But the next morning, the feeling is back again. A close friend who died in 1984, at the tender age of 24, described surfing to me. He tried so hard to get me to move from being curious about it to actually learning to surf, and he died before I’d taken the plunge. He told me to close my eyes and imagine myself standing barefooted on a very slippery surface, cool to the touch, that was moving at an immense speed over which I had no control. That’s how I feel about life, right now.

About three years ago, I read the book, Quiet, by Susan Cain; the by-line is ‘’The power of introverts in a world that can’t stop talking’’. She deals with, amongst a host of other things, our personalities, our peculiarities, what we contribute to group situations, and our preferred ways of going through any activity. I finally learnt to fully accept myself, while reading that book. I’d always known that I abhorred superficiality, but I finally understood that the reflective style of my journalling and blogging was about not wanting anything I’d experienced to go by undocumented. Of course, this style of living can be extremely frustrating, because life is just too busy for everything to be documented – but that’s part of my Trudy dilemma. I have a hunger for life, for experiences that feed my soul, but I have an unslakeable thirst for recording and reflecting on those experiences, as though living life is somehow incomplete without a written record of it. It’s like a more cerebral version of the modern-speak expression, “Selfie, or it didn’t happen.”

In the book I’m working through at the moment, The Artist’s Way, Julia Cameron deals with the topic of perfectionism, in Week 8 of a 12-week course in rediscovering your artist self.  She writes about how we’re so steeped in the mindset that things have to be perfect, in order to exist at all, that many of us simply don’t produce anything – we’re in fact paralysed by our belief in ‘’100% or don’t bother’’. I reflected on how, despite my raising my kids with an encouraging philosophy of “It doesn’t have to be all or nothing”, I myself am guilty of this quest for perfectionism. The day I read that section of the book, I posted a video of a recent performance on Facebook. I didn’t care how many people viewed it, I was just ready to put it out there, even though it wasn’t perfect. And it felt good. It felt like a celebration of my art. 

In the latter half of 2017, I was given a new set of responsibilities at work. It took me two months of grappling with whether I was good enough or not, to finally be at peace with the new role - which I’d actually been doing, during the two months of grappling! What was the turning point? Accepting that no-one (besides me) was expecting me to be perfect at it, and that it would be an interesting new skill set that I would acquire, over time. Once I understood that it was a process, pretty much like everything else in life, I exhaled, and found my peace.

So maybe that’s how I should deal with my morning dread about how quickly life is passing me by – and I suppose I do so already – and that is to yield to the aspects that are out of my control, like the fast-moving ocean beneath a surfer’s feet, and immerse myself in the beauty and joy that are all around me, waiting for me to live every day of my life to the fullest. Even though I haven’t tried surfing yet, that curiosity has never left me. Maybe, in my life, the call of the ocean is not merely symbolic.

I will continue to live with all my senses at full alert, taking in the many sights, sounds, tastes, smells, feels and other-sensory stimuli all around me. And when I find time, write. 

Because that’s how I make sense of it all.

                               South African (Capetonian) surfing champion, Cass Collier.

Wednesday, 3 January 2018

When ignorance is NOT bliss

Don’t ask someone suffering from Alzheimer’s Disease a string of questions, like you’re quizzing them, and then look pleased with yourself when they answer one or two correctly. It’s not about you. Would you ask a quadriplegic: "Can you lift your left arm? And your right arm? And your left leg? Ok, and your right one?"

And don’t say, when the person replies, in response to your questions, that she has forgotten all about the family history, “Oh?! But you just told me all of that information a few minutes ago!” as though you’ve won some kind of competition.

You don’t understand the condition, you have no idea how your response humiliates the person, and you should rather shut the f**k up, go and read up about the condition, and THEN try, the next time you see the person, to behave like a decent, compassionate human being!

I can fully understand why families might not want to take a loved one with Alzheimer’s into a social setting. 


This link shows a concise explanation, in animated form, of what Alzheimer's Disease is:

Wednesday, 13 December 2017

''The Artist's Way", by Julia Cameron - Week 6

The title of Week 6 is "Recovering a Sense of Abundance". Like the preceding chapters, this one is a combination of thought-provoking text and some tasks/exercises.

The writer deals with the beliefs we have about abundance, and recommends certain activities, to address these beliefs and to start expelling the unhealthy ones that serve only to keep us stuck. She encourages the reader to introduce certain practices into her life, to shift her relationship with the concept of abundance. I like the fact that the practices are accessible, and not outlandish. I think that's a large part of the book's appeal. You feel comfortable tackling the tasks, and, if you're like me, you believe that you will experience some kind of shift in your life.

I have to add something, here: there's a lot in this book that is not new to me, as many of the topics feature in other literature on personal development. Having done the Mind Power course in 2003, worked with two life coaches, read a lot of books and articles, and listened to many motivational talks, live and online, a lot of this rhetoric is familiar. But you know what? We may permanently assimilate some of the teachings we're exposed to, but it's normal to run out of steam, and to need reminding of others. One of the things I like about this type of thing is that I can never have too many reminders. And I like encountering the same concepts in the words of a new author/speaker.

I've noticed that I realise how much I've changed, only when confronted with either a person or a situation I've dealt with in the past. Sometimes I actually get verbal feedback about how different I am, but most of the time I'm just acutely aware it. One's life experiences also change one. I'm less gullible, less idealistic (in some ways), but unfortunately also a lot less trusting.

One of the many ways in which I've changed is I'm a lot less likely to put myself down in my speech. I often used to say, "With my kind of luck", followed by a negative outcome. I don't say those kinds of things anymore. I don't say self-deprecating things about my body, anymore. If I'm not happy with my body, I do something about it. I have no intention of adding to the negative feedback about my looks that I've received from various parties, throughout my life. I reject that shit. It's abusive, and it serves to keep women subjugated, believing they're not good enough. Affirmations played - and still do - a huge role in that shift in me. Fourteen years later, I still do the Mind Power exercises - they work for me. They include affirmations, acknowledgement, contemplation and visualisation. There's also a technique of catching yourself in a negative thought and replacing the thought with a new one. You can train yourself to stop self-sabotaging. Another change I consciously made in my life, fourteen years ago, was to try hard not to get sucked into gossip - to me there are more beautiful things to talk about, and more interesting ways to spend time. I physically remove myself, when there's gossip. I've smallened (one of my made-up words) my circle of friends because of this.

To supplement my reading of Chapter 6, I listened to a talk by the dynamic Lisa Nichols, on Abundance, and what she said struck me: ''Wealth is about money and possessions, but abundance is a 360 experience.'' And she talks about the many people she knows who have the former but not the later. I've seen this for myself. I don't know why, but we make the mistake of thinking that the people who earn more money, drive fancy cars and wear expensive clothes have somehow got it all sorted, they've ''arrived'', they're on a higher level of awareness. Nope! They just have more money. Plus all the things that money can buy. There are many, many wise people around, earning minimum wages, because they could not complete their schooling, or because they never had the opportunities in life that others did. They just have less money. Plus all the hardship and pain that come with it.

See what happens when you read Chapter Six? 

I need Chapter 6. Like so many people, I was raised with statements like, "Money is the source of all evil'',  and even though you're not aware of it, you grow up incorporating that into your belief system. Lisa Nichols says there are three things we need to learn about money: ''How to earn it, How to keep it, and How to grow it''. I had to learn, over many years, that debt per se was not evil, because you could have No debt, Good debt or Bad debt. I never learnt those things, as a child. But I'm consciously teaching them to my children. And the best way to teach our children anything is to live the behavior.  Children don't learn from what we say - they learn from what we do.

I need to end this post, so let me do so with a quiz from Chapter 6 of  ''The Artist's Way'' that helps you find out about your own beliefs about money:

  • People with money are……..
  • Money makes people…….
  • I’d have more money if……
  • My dad thought money was…..
  • My mom always thought money would…..
  • In my family, money caused…..
  • Money equals…..
  • If I had money, I’d…..
  • If I could afford it, I’d…..
  • If I had some money, I’d…..
  • I’m afraid that if I had money I would…..
  • Money is…..
  • Money causes…..
  • Having money is not…..
  • In order to have more money, I’d need to…..
  • When I have money, I usually…..
  • I think money…..
  • If I weren’t so cheap I’d…..
  • People think money…..
  • Being broke tells me…..
For the record, the issue of abundance, as acknowledged by Julia Cameron, is about so much more than money, but money is an area of abundance that many people struggle with. This chapter really helps one reflect and question one's own assumptions and blockages.


I've long believed that this journey of life is wonderful, and I will drink every drop if it while I have it. I'm consciously allowing life to smooth out my rough edges and to sharpen my blunt instincts.