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.  

Permutations

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 ínto’ 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

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