Bits
One version of me. I was known as the lead player and the youngest of The Stockwells Four family band. My father's dream for our group: Nashville music recording and performance at The Grand Ole Opry. As we developed and honed our music and performance skills, adding more professional songs to our repertoire of over four hours of memorized music and 4 additional hours of music. Investing ten years, we were at our peak of readiness. My sister, 21, and me, 19, desired more diversity from the 40's Big Band, 70's Pop and Early Western Swing. We began competing in (and winning) bluegrass competitions throughout Southern California.
A noteworthy event. Our family band was hired to perform at a private mansion which overlooked the San Pasqual Valley / The San Diego Wild Animal Park. One of the guests that night was the director of the Boston Music Conservatory. He introduced himself to my father during one of our breaks, and mentioned an opportunity for our family musical group to perform at Carnegie Hall. My father asked if he knew Arthur Fiedler of The Boston Pops, who he admired. Mr. Ortmann said he knew and worked often with Arthur Fiedler. A personal meeting with my father could be arranged.
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A navigational abort. To this day I do not understand why my father turned down the invitation for our family to play Carnegie Hall. I do know that shortly after the offer was made and with no follow-up plans, our life as a family musical group ended abruptly during one evening’s conversation. 11 years of achieving professional music goals, a single focused life, the proverbial blood, sweat, and tears - all gone in a moment. My music and performance career over. My sister escaped to her accounting education, and I into art and addictions. My parents just sat.
'I travel to other worlds and back again daily.' #Ginger the Brave
Bridles
Becoming invisible. There are many people who can brave the wilderness, backpack through Argentina, stay at hostels across Europe, and be O.K. wherever their wanderlust takes them. Not me. I became invisible. I was a shadow moving through time, through other’s lives, through jobs, through careers. Years later, while watching Elizabethtown, I realized I was the substitute person and was living a substitute life.
God has a way of intervening. I was called to sobriety through several unusual circumstances. Yes, it took several hints – I was quite hidden in my invisibility. For certain, when one experiences the gutting like Edward in Narnia, it is a re-birth into a completely new life. (But I found I could hide there too with the right people.)
Hope. How can I explain the hypocrisy I experienced growing up. I was born and raised in a religion that is now termed as a worldwide Christian cult, founded in 1935 as a radio broadcast ministry. My father was interested in biblical prophesy and became enthralled by the charismatic leader, a self-proclaimed last living Apostle, who claimed to have all biblical insight. One side of my life was beholden to beliefs and practices of this Christian cult, ostracized at school - but told I was of the Elect, wore hand-me-downs, no makeup, no French club, no Tennis club, but - wore make-up, evening gowns with side slits, drank, and partied in my musical performance life with my family. My inner beliefs did not match my outer actions. I was a walking contradiction. My middle name was 'Confused Chaos bent on Self-Destruction'.
Most of the children who were born and raised in the religion between 1960 to 1985 either committed suicide or turned to addictions. And then everything swerved.
My family
1. quit the church and
2. quit the music.
In my early twenties, I was contacted by the re-formed outreach of the religious organization, offering spiritual intervention for the children now in adulthood.
I screamed, “NO THANK YOU!”
By the time the call to sobriety came, I had attempted suicide multiple times and qualified myself by reaching the incomprehensible demoralization of a woman alcoholic.
Heart and soul. In the rooms of sobriety, I learned the golden truths from people who once were walking contradictions like me and now laughed with genuine belly laughs. People who faced their fears and no longer required a substance to face their life. I learned of dignity and grace and love that asks for nothing in return from a former L.A. madam named Helen. I met Billie, the lead performer of a headline band for ACDC whose story is, “I wanted to be famous, but God made me anonymous.” There was a bus driver named Bud and a guy who dressed in black named Bernie. There was Sandy the schoolteacher, always sitting in the back, just listening. And Mel from Australia with the most entertaining stories. This was my new family that came with my birth into sobriety.
A friend asked me one day, “What do you hope for most in sobriety?”
My answer shot out -
“To live straight as an arrow.”
And from that crazy, odd family of misfits and truth-teller stars, I carried the hugs from the meetings back to my original family. And for the first time in my life, I received hugs from my mother and from my dad on a regular basis.
'I Live Straight as an Arrow.' #Ginger the Brave
Drop The Reins
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The sweet spot. When I reached 36 years sober, it was time to do something about my fear and my love of horses. I spent a lot of time on 'Steel' the steel drum horse learning to mount and dismount without the use of stirrups in front of the barn and no where near the horse stables. My lessons started with grooming, tack on, walking my lesson horse to the arena, reading the horse's temperament (for that day), then routine groundwork. I spent so much time on the ground beside the horse, that when it came to mount up, I had no qualms – only “It's about time!” The dressage riding lessons consisted of discussion and visualizing my correct posture, my movement on the horse, my carriage of hands and reins, breathing, my core stacking, and ability to lift upward from the saddle using the press of thighs and knees with minimal weight in the stirrups. I first heard the expression 'finding your sweet spot' from my dressage riding instructor.
To find the sweet spot as a rider, meant to learn how to sit with natural intensity while staying relaxed. There is a beautiful sensation in the trot and canter when one reaches the sweet spot and the horse and rider move as one unit – without any friction – absolutely aligned.
I found this also in practice of At Liberty training with my horse under the careful eye of my other riding instructor. The Art of At Liberty Training For Horses by Jonathan Fields. He says the sweet spot is defined as a personal mental and physical comfort zone, which the horse will do its best to stay in. In working with my horse Audacity, trained dressage and cross country competition mare, her Chestnut attitude and high energy was a constant challenge. When I used the lead rope, acting as if it was not there, then without a lead rope and acting as if the rope was there guiding her, we eventually found our sweet spot. I was able to run with her, drive her, pull her, shoulder side-pass and dance together in a mirrored pattern of steps.
Audacity and I had to find our individual sweet spot and ‘together’ comfort zone. Not once did I consider the huge hooves of the Welsh Cobb Thoroughbred mare could crush my booted feet moving closely beside hers. We were having too much fun dancing. I believe there is no room for fear in the sweet spot.
For the first time since I played music with my family I felt O.K. with the world.
I found my heart and soul.
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Dress the part.
Train the part.
Fit the part.
Unscripted. My take-away from reminiscing over the different versions of me and the different lifetimes I have lived is simple: I no longer need a script to live by. I am O.K. with spontaneity. I can sit with uncertainty. I live in the moment. I don't need things to be perfect for me to feel O.K.
I miss the things I loved and are no longer a part of my life, but I believe in a God of restoration. I challenge myself everyday to live the life God provides for me this day.
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'I Know There Are Horses In Heaven.' #Ginger the Brave
Thank God.