Welcome!


Welcome!

I so appreciate you finding your way here. May our association help both of us dive deeper into the healing currents of love's presence.

Let's begin with two songs of mine, Teach Me How To Love, and It Takes Courage. They will get you in the mood....

1. http://ia700404.us.archive.org/10/items/TeachMeHowToLove_725/01TeachMeHowToLove.mp3

2. http://ia700400.us.archive.org/4/items/ItTakesCourage/08ItTakesCourage.mp3

(sample more at www.scottsongs.com)


Thursday, November 10, 2016

A Twelve Step Program For Surviving a Trump Presidency





My daughter had been so looking forward to the first female president.

I saw her the day after Trump won, and asked if she wanted to talk.

I imagined she felt disappointed, frustrated, and a little frightened.

She did not want to talk. She wanted to build a fairy house instead.

I felt annoyed at her for avoiding difficult feelings about a difficult subject.

Seven years old, and I was expecting her to adhere to my ideas of emotional intelligence forged from decades of therapy.

She started building a fairy house.

I was not ready to let go of talking about the election.

But at least I recognized that it was my need, not hers. 

I told her that I was feeling disappointed, frustrated, and yes, scared.

I asked her if she could stop for a moment and give me a hug.

We hugged, and that comforted me.

Then I started judging myself for revealing my fear to someone whom was looking to me for her sense of safety, as well as her definition of things.

Then I graduated to worrying about how my needyness might be  screwing her up.

 Finally I had enough of my ego's endless drama, got down on my knees, and helped her build a fairy house.

I imagine lots of us are feeling disappointed, frustrated, and yes, scared by the prospects of a Trump Presidency.

I’d like to speak some soothing words to the parts of me that are trembling, as we all grapple with finding the serenity to accept the things we can’t change, the courage to blah, blah, blah…

I’m beyond being soothed by slogans right now.

What am I in the mood for is a new twelve step program, 
twelve ideas that might serve as stepping stones to higher ground as we recover from earthquake aftershocks to find acceptance of what is.

So here goes:

A Twelve Step Program For Surviving a Trump Presidency

1) Honor your grief. Acknowledge that you are powerless over the election results. Go through the stages. They do not necessarily show up in size order, but the general idea is: 1. Shock & Denial  2. Anger 3. Bargaining 4. Depression 5. Acceptance

Tears that are not shed dry up inside and harden into disowned shadow, insensitivity to others, and an absence of vulnerability.

Want a good example of someone who has built up a lifetime of unprocessed grief? Donald Trump!

2) Whatever qualities you think Donald lacks, give more of them.

A) See him lacking kindness? Be extra kind to yourself and those around you.

B) See him as someone who always has to be right? Don’t match his energy! Don’t insist on being right about how wrong he is. Look with mindfulness at your own attachment to being right, and choose to be happy instead.

C) See him as someone who is not able to respect people he disagrees with?  Listen deeply to people with opposing opinions, and see how they have the same needs as yourself, just different strategies about how to go about getting their needs met. 

Find that common ground where you both human….
 
 
3) Remind yourself that you are the President of your United States. You are the leader of your free world. You have both houses of congress behind every thought you think. You can cultivate peace in your inner nation, even with Donald Trump as President. Choose your attitude. Don't let it be chosen for you.

4) Hold your loved ones close. Tell them that it is in times of sadness and in the toughest of days where we often find our true mettle. (From a tweet by George Takei, the actor who played Sulu in Star Trek.)

5) Within our hearts we know the society we wish to live in. No one can take that vision from us. We are each of us keepers of that promise. (Sulu tweets again!)

6)  Remember this: Our country has seen wars and grave injustices, slavery and even civil war in its past. Yet we found our way through. We will now, too. (My last Sulu tweet.)

7) Own your power. Voting for Donald is an anguished cry for help, a 911 call made by masses of folks who are feeling powerless in their lives. Don’t be one of them. Do not give Donald Trump, nor any other person, your power.

8)  Do something. Anything. Anger without action is self-destructive. But, with constructive action, anger helps change the world for the better. Here's the antidote to despair and depression: Instead of focusing on what you don’t want, focus on what you do want, and find some action step to take.  You might be inspired to political activism. Or to set up a monthly recurring donation to Planned Parenthood. Is there a blog post inside you to write?  Do something. Anything. Rise up. Or get down on your knees and help a child build a fairy house.

9)  Fear Not!  Donald feels threatened by Mexicans and Muslims. Don’t feel threatened by Donald Trump. Let the buck stop here. Only your ego can feel threatened, project blame, and build walls. So build bridges instead. Leave acting out the ego to Donald Trump. 


For many of us, Donald being President is like the second coming of our worst fears. But if it wasn’t Donald it would be something or someone else. Fear always finds something to attach itself to. 

And fear is always Forgetting Everything is All  Right

For potent and poetic fear busting, watch on YouTube as I, the Spiritual Dr. Seuss, recite: The Story of Fear and it's Grand Departure from Your Nervous System

10) Take Up Drinking! Now that Donald is going to be president, you have a duty to drink in copious amounts of Stephen Colbert, Samantha Bee, Trevor Noah, James Corden, Seth Meyers, John Oliver, Bill Maher, and other comedians who help us laugh. If, like me, you don't have a television, you can watch clips on YouTube. 

The world is not going insane... it has always been. So laugh it up. Get those endorphins going. 

You can't laugh and be fearful at the same time.

11) Welcome Major Changes. I studied with a spiritual teacher in the1980’s named Hilda Charlton. She had the gift of prophecy, and saw things about the future that have been coming true before my eyes ever since. Over and over again she warned us that external institutions built on fear and greed would eventually collapse, including entire financial and political systems. 

She saw all of it coming.

She reminded us that there would be a higher purpose to it all, that from it would come rebirth and renewal. She stressed repeatedly that we were made for these times.

Those of us who have faced major changes in our personal life, who have lost houses, security, incomes, mates, or have faced life threatening illnesses, can look back and see how those calamities turned out to be blessings in disguise, divine earthquakes that shook our foundations enough to get what is false inside us to crumple.

Could Donald be global medicine bitter enough that the whole world’s immune system kicks in and says enough!?!

In Chinese, the word ‘crisis' is made up of two words, danger and opportunity

These are indeed interesting times.


12) Grab people by the heart, not the pussy. 

I had a chance to put this into practice just now, while taking a coffee break.
 
 
Writing this article was hard. I had to push past the urge to isolate and stew in my own despair.

Finishing it has been even harder.

I needed help, so I went to the local java hut in the hopes that some caffeine would jolt the rest of this out of me.

A Hispanic woman asked me what I wanted. 

Something completely unexpected came out of me, at a volume so everyone in the store could hear me.

“I want to tell you that I love you, you belong here, and that I will never let you or your family be deported.”  

“Thank you for saying that. I love you too. We are a community. We need each other.”

We both fumbled around for what to do or say next.

I managed to remember that I came in for coffee.

But what I really came in for, what we all came in for, is to remember and demonstrate the power of love over fear.

To take care of each other.

And no president or political system can stop us. 

Ever.


Scott Grace is a life coach that is known on YouTube as the Spiritual Dr. Seuss. In addition, he creates and performs Song Portraits, custom made personalized songs that celebrate your loved ones, living or deceased. Explore his gifts at www.scottsongs.com








Monday, October 31, 2016

Divine Dementia - (Losing My Keys, Finding My Joy!)

This past May a friend lent me his car for a series of gigs I had from Maryland to Massachusetts.

I was so honored and grateful that he had entrusted me with his ultra cool wheels to make my journey easier. To top it off, pun intended, it was a BMW convertible.

I never had such a cool car to drive before.

But...

I lost his keys. 

Let me put this in reverse for a moment.

Before I left California, I asked an intuitive that I occasionally council with if there was anything about my upcoming journey that he could foresee that might be helpful for me to hear.

Besides the usual fun times, he mentioned that he saw a bump in the road, a logistical hiccup  that would offer me an opportunity to splash in some puddles and sing in the rain instead of insisting on being high and dry all the time.

A knot formed in my belly.

Universe, don’t you dare trip up my control trip!

The next day, I flew cross country, letting the Captain fly the plane, as usual.

I guess there are many moments each day where I surrender the control to a much more capable pilot!

Speed forward, eight days into my twelve day road trip, and everything was going smoothly... well attended gigs, great times...

Then, right before my last gig, at my mother's condo on the upper west side, I could not find the keys. I looked everywhere. I simply could not remember where I put them. That happens a fair amount in my world.

I'm great at being in the moment, making up songs out of thin air, but remembering where I put things? Not so much.

Eventually I admitted defeat and texted and called my friend. Maybe he had an extra key.

No answer.

Breathe, Scott, breathe.

Mom was hovering over me, trying to be helpful while freaking out.

Breathe, Mom, breathe. 

She did not.

Can't control my mother.

Breath, Scott, breathe.

The idea fairy whispered in my ear to try to find public transportation. I looked at buses, trains...  there was nothing that could take me to the remote part of Western Mass where this weekend workshop was being held.

I kept trying my friend. Finally he answered. He searched high and low while I practiced letting go of needing a specific outcome, and my mother practice holding her breath.

The phone rang. Yes, he had a spare key.

I grabbed my guitar for the taxi ride I was about to take crosstown to my friend's east side apartment.

My mother protested.

From her point of view, this was a crisis, not a musical, and the guitar was inappropriate.

After all, it looked like I was going to be quite late to my gig, a couple’s retreat that counted on my singing to help break the ice and get people into a good space.

But I was remembering my counselors council, and I felt inspired, even guided, to grab my guitar before I flagged a taxi.

It was Friday afternoon, the start of the Memorial Day Weekend. Manhattan's gridlock was gnarly.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can’t change, the courage to sing and laugh about them, and the wisdom to remember that my happiness is never dependent on circumstances I can’t control.

I asked my cab driver if he wouldn't mind me singing some songs. He did not.

First up, I made up a blues ditty about the crosstown crawl we were in. If he could have danced he would have.

Then I asked him for a song request, and he suggested La Bamba. I got super into it, strumming away all the stress I had been feeling, singing my spirit back into joy and celebration.

He was singing along and beaming.  He had never been serenaded before in his cab. Maybe never in his life.

Up next were Stevie Wonder and Michael Jackson. And I was just warming up. We had some time to kill.

Actually, there was no killing involved.

It was one of the most enjoyable taxi rides either of us had experienced.

When I got back to my mother's apartment  I went to her fridge, only to spy, chilling on top of the lunch I had bought that morning, the original car key.

Oh, yeah.

I had placed the key there so I would not forget my lunch.

My mother, 88 years young, quite often forgets things. She began laughing. I joined in. We laughed ourselves silly.

I got into the BMW and slipped into the traffic.

The app on my phone helped me find the path of least resistance to my destination.

I made it to my gig just fifteen minutes before it was about to begin.

I told everyone my story. They laughed. Everyone could relate.

I remembered that when watching Johnny Carson, my favorite moments were when he screwed something up.

The graceful way he responded made for the best entertainment.

His hiccups were highlights.

Could that be so for us?

I will lose things from time to time, but if I remember my sense of humor, my sense of perspective, and my willingness to grab my guitar and sing about the inevitable bumps in the road....then I will not lose my keys to what is most important... the keys to joy.

Lightening up when the road has bumps may not always be the fastest way to get there, but it is always the path of least resistance.


The end of my first ever Spiritual Dr. Seuss poem, Oh, The Places Your Ego Will Go, sums up the message of this post:

When your ego is in the passenger seat
It lets down the window and takes in the treats
You're not in a hurry, you're taking it slow
Cause the journey's as rich as the places you'll go
Where you are going you don't need to know
For the journey's as rich as the places you'll go
Your journey's as rich as the places you'll go 

Scott Grace can be found at www.scottsongs.com

Thursday, October 13, 2016

My Adventures in Sausalito with Youth From All Over the World


(...with two of the foreign exchange students I ran into last week in Sausalito...)

I love being around young people, being around their hope, vision, and enthusiasm.

And I especially love making a difference in their lives.

Last week a young man from Germany in his early twenties who was here studying dance stayed at our house. Ralf and I shared some meals, and also some songs on the guitar. He came with me to the local health food store, where I love singing classic songs from the 60's and 70's by the fireplace and getting others to join in. He watched me several times gather a tribe and build a sense of community through music. He was really touched.

When it was time to part ways, he told me that he was going back to Germany with the courage to play his guitar for the first time in public on street corners. He blamed me for inspiring him. I accepted the blame, and thanked him for injecting some of his youthful energy into my life experience. His last words to me: “Scott, you will always be in my heart.”

Such purity. Ralf was an angel, like all of us, but it seemed he was more aware of it than many of us who have had more time, more opportunities to cover up our angel-hood.

Last Saturday I met up with fifteen more youth angels while in Sausalito, a busy Marin County town brimming with tourists right across the Golden Gate Bridge from San Francisco.  I was there with my guitar, making up[ songs for anyone who accepted my invitation to be serenaded. Two of my friends were there with me with Free Hugs signs held high, doing their thing.

We ran into a group of foreign exchange students from countries as diverse as Germany, Italy, France, Bolivia, South Africa, etc. I asked if they could come with me to a patch of grass and sit in a circle, and they did. I made up a song to honor them for their brave journey to the U.S.

We also sang some songs together,  Imagine, We Are the World, and  Don’t Worry Be Happy.

They were on a global adventure, brimming with love of life, trusting the universe to support them in a foreign land. Our meeting and our singing together brought tears to my eyes. I am so glad for my smart phone, YouTube, and how easy it has become to share these experiences with the rest of the world.

You included.

Are you up for enjoying some of the energy and receiving a joy transmission?

If so, click here: Adventures with Foreign Exchange Students in Sausalito

Being around young people for me is as life giving as being around nature. I love breathing them in and and inhaling their energy, hope, and enthusiasm, revitalizing my own energy, hope, and enthusiasm.

I would like to complete this sharing with a song inspired by a very special three year old child I met and serenaded in 1987 in Central Park.

I wrote this while I was having an LSD experience (the 80's were my 60's). I was surprised the next day when I remembered the song and found that it still had rich meaning and emotional impact while not tripping. A month later I recorded it with a full band and choir at an Interfaith Church in Doylestown, PA called Pebble Hill.

You can enjoy it by clicking here

I no longer do LSD, but I do enjoy a contact high when coming in contact with young people.

And now, thanks to YouTube and technology, you can get one from us:

Adventures with Foreign Exchange Students in Sausalito 

We are all on a global adventure together, learning to trust and feel safe in what can feel like a strange and foreign land.

Reaching out to others, especially the younger generation, takes the concept of 'foreign' right out of my heart and replaces it with family. A human family. We may not be all sitting in a circle singing Imagine, but we are surely all in this together.


About Scott

 Scott Grace, described by authorities as a cross between John Denver, Robin Williams and Dr. Seuss, is wanted worldwide for creating the peace and using levity to defy gravity. 

Contact with Scott is likely to be hazardous to your misery, as he has consistently provoked outbursts of joyful giddiness in four out of five laboratory humans tested.

It is rumored that Scott’s work has so threatened to cut into the sales of anti-depressants that pharmaceutical companies have offered him millions to retire. 

To the shock and dismay of his inner critic, Scott published a book, called: Teach Me How To Love A True Story that Touches Hearts & Helps with the Laundry! Many have raved about it on Amazon, and rumor has it that the numerous five star reviews were put up by readers who were unwittingly intoxicated while breathing in the spirits emanating from its pages.

Scott has been known to practice life coaching without a license, eluding the police by working over the phone, Skype, or FaceTime. He fancies himself an intuitive, and smuggles wisdom and guidance over the border from beings he calls spirit guides, who are also not licensed, and who have allegedly not filed a tax return in several lifetimes.

As a motivational speaker, Scott gives keynotes using a stolen identity, a.k.a. the Spiritual Dr. Seuss. His feel good viruses on YouTube have infected over 2.5 million people with just four of his  contagious Dr. Seuss-like videos.

As a front, Scott does do various legal, above the board activities. He has produced nine CD’s and a DVD of his original music and comedy. He shows up as a guest speaker and singer at churches, non-profits, schools, and corporate events. As a stand up comedian in the Bay Area, he has shared the stage with Dana Carvey and Robin Williams.

But don't be fooled. His rampage of Song Portraits, custom made personalized song-gifts that honor people for their birthdays, anniversaries, or for no reason at all, have been killing people softly with their song since 1987. Authorities would very much like your help in apprehending Scott. Try catching him on the web at www.scottsongs.com, or on YouTube at: http://www.youtube.com/user/skalechstein 





Monday, October 3, 2016

My Peak Experience in NYC (Warning: Contact High Inevitable)


Last month I was jogging in Central Park, when I came across some young performers rehearsing Godspell. They were singing and dancing on a stage where years back when I was a resident of NYC I had seen the likes of Simon and Garfunkel, the B52’s, and many others.

I jogged in place for awhile, enjoying their deliriously soulful renditions of Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord and Day by Day. I even joked with them after they finished a song, pretending I was their director, “Pretty good, but one more time with feeling!” They laughed, and I was relieved they enjoyed my attempt at humor, because they sure weren’t lacking feeling. They sounded and looked as spectacular as anything I had heard and seen on Broadway.

What a treat, to have literally run right into their rehearsal.

But then I jogged away from the free concert. Why? A voice in my head, one that commanded authority, ordered me to. My 'boss' reasoned that being true to my daily discipline of aerobics was more important than enjoying what had so graced my life unexpectedly. Routine over Grace.

Ever make that choice?

But my heart has a voice as well, one that has been gathering momentum over the years, getting louder as I have learned to listen and take action.

And my heart has no allegiance to routine.

It was telling me to jog back to The Unity Players.

And not just to listen. It had other plans.

You know the voice. The one that tells you that life is too short to stay in your comfort zone. The one that guides you to jog towards your fears, not to create suffering, but to jog you from it.

Sometimes I hate that voice.

But every peak experience I have had in my 53 years has happened because I was willing to follow my heart.

I tried to remember just that as my pulse was quickening, not from the jogging, but from in anticipation of what I was about to ask the Unity Players.

I asked if they could back me up on Day By Day. I explained that it had been a lifelong fantasy of mine to be on Broadway, and they would be helping to make my dream come true.

I requested an onlooker if she would take my phone and record it for me. She did.

With these fantastic singers supporting me, I hammed it up, and it was glorious. I get  high from watching it. Go ahead. It will make you feel good. We all get a contact high from witnessing each other go for it.

Scott's Broadway Moment

After that my inner critic tried to take back the stage and drown out my post-peak experience celebration party by arguing that realistically, this was a rehearsal in Central Park, not me starring in a show on Broadway.

But I have learned over time that what I am after on this earth is not to have my name up in lights, but to live my daily life in the light. 

I'm after moments, more and more of them, of listening to and acting on the voice that points me to the music, not just as a spectator, but as a vibrant participant. A creator.

Later that day I was waltzing through Central Park strumming my guitar, and met up with a fellow music maker, a missionary from a church in South Africa. I made up a song to honor his mission. He enjoyed my improvisation, but made it clear that he was not content playing the role of audience:

His mission was to sing something with me.

So we made up a song together. This childlike man, free of fear and self-consciousness, stole my heart. Take a look. Yes, he was not fluent in English, but that did not stop him from participating in the song in every which way a human spirit can. Watch him move and sway and dance. It’s as if his whole body was an instrument:

A Divine Duet With a Man from South Africa


Yes, you and I are instruments. We are not here to play it safe, but to play. And to be played.

As I sing in one of my autobiographical songs, The Call:

The finest moments of every day

Are when I get out of my own way

And let the spirit flow through me

Playing my part in a symphony

Play me as I am

Use my voice and hands

Play me



PS. The Unity Players can be found on Facebook at The Unity Players

About Scott

Scott Grace, described by authorities as a cross between John Denver, Robin Williams and Dr. Seuss, is wanted worldwide for creating the peace and using levity to defy gravity. 

Contact with Scott is likely to be hazardous to your misery, as he has consistently provoked outbursts of joyful giddiness in four out of five laboratory humans tested.

It is rumored that Scott’s work has so threatened to cut into the sales of anti-depressants that pharmaceutical companies have offered him millions to retire. 

To the shock and dismay of his inner critic, Scott published a book, called: Teach Me How To Love A True Story that Touches Hearts & Helps with the Laundry! Many have raved about it on Amazon, and rumor has it that the numerous five star reviews were put up by readers who were unwittingly intoxicated while breathing in the spirits emanating from its pages.

Scott has been known to practice life coaching without a license, eluding the police by working over the phone, Skype, or FaceTime. He fancies himself an intuitive, and smuggles wisdom and guidance over the border from beings he calls spirit guides, who are also not licensed, and who have allegedly not filed a tax return in several lifetimes.

As a motivational speaker, Scott gives keynotes using a stolen identity, a.k.a. the Spiritual Dr. Seuss. His feel good viruses on YouTube have infected over 2.5 million people with just four of his  contagious Dr. Seuss-like videos.

As a front, Scott does do various legal, above the board activities. He has produced nine CD’s and a DVD of his original music and comedy. He shows up as a guest speaker and singer at churches, non-profits, schools, and corporate events. As a stand up comedian in the Bay Area, he has shared the stage with Dana Carvey and Robin Williams.

But don't be fooled. His rampage of Song Portraits, custom made personalized song-gifts that honor people for their birthdays, anniversaries, or for no reason at all, have been killing people softly with their song since 1987. Authorities would very much like your help in apprehending Scott. Try catching him on the web at www.scottsongs.com, or on YouTube at: http://www.youtube.com/user/skalechstein







Wednesday, September 21, 2016

Your Name is Not Set in Stone

Apparently some people derive great pleasure pairing fine wine with the perfect cheese. I can relate. Today I found a song that is quite the culinary auditory fit for today’s article. A perfect match. I am deriving great pleasure from singing it. Wanna watch? Or sing along?

Here's my rendition of:  I’ve Got A Name, By Jim Croce

Loosened up from the song? Good! And now, here’s the article:

Your Name is Not Set in Stone... Nothing is!

By Scott Grace


One of my favorite emotional experiences on earth is when I realize I have a choice about something that I previously felt powerless about.

Like my name. I legally changed it in 2010 from Scott Kalechstein to Scott Grace. And I’ve been giddy about it ever since.

My name was something that I thought I could never change. That I should never change.

It wasn’t an expression of anger towards my parents, nor a need to rebel. It was just that Kalechstein was hard to pronounce, cumbersome to spell, and I wanted to travel light. I wanted to own my name,  to choose it wisely and playfully, and Grace was the perfect fit.

When it dawned on me that I wanted to be Scott Grace and that there was nothing stopping me, I had such a party in my head.

To this day, every single time people introduce me using my name, my inner child and I have a party. Or at least a tingle and some goose bumps. And when I say it? I feel cooler than Sean Connery saying Bond; James Bond!

Changing my name reminded me that I always have choice. It awakened my authority to create, and move forward with a clean slate not determined by my past. It put me in the drivers seat.

My daughter and I used to play a game. She would wear a certain hat that she called the Name Change Hat. When she wore it, she would become the Name Change Princess, and the hat gave her the power to change names. I brought stuffed animals and dolls to her feet as if she was royalty. I would pretend to be the stuffy, saying something like: "Oh, I am so excited to finally meet you. I heard you have the power to grant me the perfect new name. Might you? Folks call me Froggy, and I’m tired of it.”

The Name Change Princess would speak in a commanding tone of authority, as if all beings were under her rule: "You are no longer Froggy. Your new name is Groovy Green Thing!”

Then the frog would happily hop away, profusely sputtering out thanks, insanely thrilled about its new name. Then the next stuffy approached her throne. And the next. There seemed to be no end to the amusement this game brought us. At least two years worth.

And then two years of forgetting about it. Kids grow out of things so fast.

Last year I remembered. We were at my favorite hippie dippy health food restaurant in Santa Cruz called Dharmas. I surprised Aysia by taking out the hat. “Remember this, Aysia? Remember the name change hat?” “Of course, Daddy.” We played for a bit, and we both got nostalgic. When Aysia got up to use the bathroom I walked over to a lively couple sitting at a table near us and whispered, “Would you be willing to do something that would make my daughter’s day?” I explained what I had in mind, and they agreed.

About ten minutes went by, and then one of the women came over to us and said to Aysia, "Aren’t you the Name Change Princess? And isn’t that the Name Change Hat? Might you be willing to give me a new name? I’m so ready for a new name!”

Aysia put on the hat wielded her authority. She bestowed a name. I think it was Rainbow. Then her partner got in on the action. Both women poured on the excitement and gratitude as if the new names were new cars. I was so grateful for this couple. They were naturals at improvisation. They played it beautifully. Aysia had a huge smile on her face, and asked me if we could do more.

We did.

We traveled from table to table, inviting children and adults to take on new names. I explained that these would be temporary names, not legally binding, and could be discarded anytime. Almost everyone played along and had a ball. We left the restaurant filled up to the brim with joy.

A name is a temporary thing. We all discard them the moment we leave our bodies. Does yours still feel like a fit? Might you have grown out of it? Do you realize you have a choice?

What would you secretly like to be named? You don’t have to make it legal, but I’d love it if you secretly whisper (email) it to me.

I am Scott Grace, and I approved of this message.

I leave you in the hands of my daughter, Aysia Grace, who, in less than thirty seconds, will explain to you in a video: How Donald Trump Gets His Orange Glow.

In closing, I present to you once again  the perfect song that goes with today’s message: I’ve Got A Name, By Jim Croce

Wednesday, August 31, 2016

Letting Joy Lead...


"Success is a wonderful thing and a terrible thing.  Just do what you love.”

-Gene Wilder


I do what I love. For a living. Full time. Have done so for twenty six years.

Lately I’ve had a few months in a row of practically no income, and Mr. Fix It (my mind) has stepped up to the plate with a very familiar solution, consisting of two steps:

A) Freak out.

B) Use the adrenaline gained from freaking out to make things happen.

Mr. Fix It has given me this advice my entire adult life. He has glimpsed the future, and assures me that it will suck unless I let a sense of urgency push me to do things that have worked in the past to generate income: Call churches where I’ve presented at. Put together a local concert. Do another webinar.  Offer a sale on my coaching. Remind people that song portraits are the best gift ever.

Sell, promote, sell!

All of these things have worked in the past. But I’m 53 years young, and freaking out about money is getting old.

I have another internal advisor, one that is dear to my heart but somewhat foreign to my nervous system. She whispers: You are safe, and so is your future. There is nothing to fix. CHILL OUT NOW.

Under her guidance, I've been building my to-do list based on the answers to the following question, “What do I really want to do?"

My three main action steps:

1) Sharing my journey through articles like this one. Creativity is an extended orgasm.  And I love it when it is good for you, too!

2) Going to public places with friends and holding up signs that say Free Hugs and Free Poems. These angelic interventions are putting huge smiles on faces, especially mine.

3). I've been singing and strumming popular songs from the 60’s and 70’ (Today it's Boogie on Reggae Woman, by Stevie Wonder.) Broadway musicals, rock, folk, even disco is fair game. Basically, I'm learning how to play and perform songs that touched me in my childhood. They touch me far more today.

So that's my business plan, Investing in futures by investing in today's joy.

On Monday nights I’ve been taking my guitar to the local health food store, which has an outside eating area with a fireplace. I’ve been joined by other musicians and singers. We’ve been doing the hit parade: The Beatles. Cat Stevens. The Bee Gees. Michael Jackson. Stevie Wonder. Even the Carpenters. (Why do birds suddenly appear?) People who don’t know the lyrics look them up on their smart phones and sing along. I’m making new friends, creating community, and going home on the top of the world. Monday nights have become my favorite night of the week.

On Sundays instead of my usual speaking and singing at churches, I’ve gone with friends to the Farmers Market to hold up signs that advertise Free Hugs. I also have been making up Free Poems, and last Sunday a young woman asked me to rap a free poem about the free hugs.

Here’s the quickie I came up with: Free Poem About Free Hugs


My daughter went with me last Sunday.



She wasn’t much into hugging people, but she sure enjoyed making colorful signs. Some people who were there to shop picked up signs and took up hugging. A tribe of huggers formed, at one point consisting of three women, four children, and a man in a wheelchair, all holding up signs and giving out free hugs. The children got more action than the adults, but we didn't mind. What a blast we had, dispensing fair trade human touch, tactile expresso without the jitters.

Lately I’m having some kind of awakening. My therapist says that I remind her of someone who has battled cancer, came close to death, and emerged from the experience with a a passionate commitment to letting joy lead.

Letting joy lead.

It’s not completely new territory. I’ve been doing what I love and watching the money follow since I give up my day job in 1990. I’ve learned a few things and demonstrated some faith.

But in the past when money got tight I got tight as well.

Motivated by fear of scarcity, I put on my business cap and took out my list of practical things to do to make things happen.

Nothing wrong with that. It helped me build my male side.

But now I’m in a new place. My feminine, receptive side is leading the way and giving me the business plan.

I call it a Faith Walk. I'm letting joy lead, doing what I love. The money may be following, but it hasn’t quite caught up to me yet. I’m walking into the Red Sea, trusting it will part. There's no turning back, just forward motion.

“Show me the money,” my mind screeches. “Then I'll relax and let you do this joy thing.”

But I have reached a point where I am no longer willing to be held hostage by fear, which demands ransom money in exchange for feeling safe, and procrastinates relaxing into the arms of an ever present love until its list of conditions are met.

Are they ever?

I was in a men’s group that included two millionaires. Sometime they would share their fears about keeping their wealth. Fear of loss and even a fear of poverty was a part of their lives. I took good notes: More money does not equal more happiness, nor a consistent sense of safety. Wow, what a lesson.

Meanwhile, I am continuing to strum my guitar and sing like a bird, taking my eyes and fears off my bank statements, and putting daily joy deposits into my mutual fun account.

Yesterday in Sausalito my friend Kani and I met up with tourists, greeting them with guitar, songs born in the moment, and, of course, free hugs and poems.





I made up songs on the spot for a Catholic Priest from Guatemala, a newlywed couple from Tel Aviv, and a family from Chicago. We took a short video of the family enjoying and participating in my spontaneous silliness.

By letting joy lead on a consistent basis, it is law that synchronicity, serendipity, love and money will find me attractive. What law? The law of attraction, of course. "Seek ye first the Kingdom of Joy, and all these things..."

I will keep you posted about my experiments in being a law abiding citizen of the universe, and walking into the Red Sea with a guitar.

NEWS FLASH! While I was writing this article, in the space of two days, someone emailed me for a coaching session, another person hired me to sing at her Montessori School, and yet another emailed me inquiring whether I was available to share my gifts at a retreat in the mountains near San Diego three weeks from now. He had stumbled upon my Spiritual Dr. Seuss videos on YouTube, and the theme of the upcoming retreat was the wisdom of Dr. Seuss. We worked out the logistics, agreed upon the finances, and away I go. Letting joy lead.

Monday, August 15, 2016

Owning My Inner Donald Trump (and Woody Allen)

Do we all have an inner Donald Trump? I know I do.

In my childhood my mother, in response to anything I said that resembled bragging, would utter the words, “Self-praise is no recommendation."

I am not sure what she meant by that, but I certainly was not encouraged to toot my own horn.

Ideally, I like it when others toot my horn for me. But I am an entrepreneur. I can’t escape completely. Self-promotion is part of what I signed up to learn. And teach.

Kids love to toot their horns. And we adults can love it as well, to celebrate who we are and what we are doing. Permission granted.

I’m insecure. I want people to like me. I feel better that way. Even more than that, I want to not care so much about what people think of me. I'm making progress with that. Yet, putting myself out there in the world, exposing myself to the endless variety of other people's opinions and projections, has never been a cake walk.

There was a time that I hid my insecurity successfully behind my ego’s Superman cape. I put myself out as a an enlightened singing guru, a healer that could and would CHANGE YOUR LIFE in one workshop, or session. I Donaled Trumped my way through the mine-fields of self-promotion. In my mind I was huge.

But underneath that….unworthiness in spades.

Self-hatred is always behind the scenes of an over the top  Donald Trumpyness.

One day someone whom I looked up to, John Robbins, author of Diet for a New America and other books, called me up. He was a fan of my music, and we were discussing what it might take to have me come sing at one of his retreats. He got my answering machine. On it I advertised a workshop I was going to be leading over the weekend. In a booming voice, I invited anyone and everyone to come to my Musical Healing Circle. I assured callers that it would CHANGE THEIR LIFE!

John asked me if I was open to some feedback about my voice message. I said yes.

He laid his honesty on the table, letting me know that my message sounded like hype, and that he did not trust a workshop leader who made such lofty claims at such high volume. He actually said I sounded more like a used car salesman than a healer.

Ouch. But I felt the truth in that. As the hot air went out of my ego, I began to drop into my inner Woody Allen, the insecurity and self doubt behind the Trumped up version of myself.

And I began to be shy and hesitant about putting myself out there.

Where is the balance between those extremes, Donald Trump and Woody Allen?

Here's where I'd like to be:

I am not the giant of my fantasies, nor the dwarf of my fears. I am human, self-employed, and seek to promote my services somewhere between hype and overdosing on humility, in between bragging and shrinking, and especially finding a happy place between my inner Donald and Woody.

I'm getting there, a work in progress.

Here's my latest toot. Tell me what you think, and I'll try not to care.


Scott Grace, described by authorities as a cross between John Denver, Robin Williams and Dr. Seuss, is wanted worldwide for creating the peace and using levity to defy gravity. 

Consider yourself warned that contact with Scott is likely to be hazardous to your misery, as he has provoked outbursts of giddiness in four out of five laboratory humans tested.

It is rumored that Scott’s work has so threatened to cut into the sales of anti-depressants that pharmaceutical companies have offered him millions to retire. 


To the shock and dismay of his inner critic, Scott published a book, called: Teach Me How To Love A True Story that Touches Hearts & Helps with the Laundry! Many have raved about it on Amazon, and rumor has it that the numerous five star reviews were put up by unsuspecting readers who were intoxicated while breathing in the spirits emanating from its pages.

Scott has been known to practice life coaching without a license, eluding the police by working over the phone, Skype, or FaceTime. He fancies himself an intuitive, and smuggles wisdom and guidance over the border from beings he calls spirit guides, who are also not licensed, and who have allegedly not filed a tax return in several lifetimes.

As a motivational speaker, Scott gives keynotes using a stolen identity, a.k.a. the Spiritual Dr. Seuss. His feel good viruses on YouTube have infected over 2.5 million people with just four of his  contagious Dr. Seuss-like videos.

As a front, Scott does do various legal, above the board activities. He has produced nine CD’s and a DVD of his original music and comedy. He shows up as a guest speaker and singer at churches, non-profits, schools, and corporate events. As a stand up comedian in the Bay Area, he has shared the stage with Dana Carvey and Robin Williams.

But don't be fooled. His rampage of Song Portraits, custom made personalized song-gifts that honor people for their birthdays, anniversaries, or for no reason at all, have been
killing people softly with their song since 1987.

The FBI would very much like your help in apprehending Scott. Try catching him on the web at www.scottsongs.com, or on YouTube at: http://www.youtube.com/user/skalechstein