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, March 16, 2017

Something New That Might Support You

 
I’ve always had this huge judgement about using anything outside myself to feel better. 
 
My inner critic loves calling me lazy when I don’t get  happy all by myself.

But aren’t we always looking ‘outside' for some nurturing? 
 
Would I deny myself a massage because it involves hands other than my own?
 
Many of you know that I went through a dark night of the soul about three years ago when I became a single parent.

I was guided to something, the leaves of a tree, that helped me feel better. It became an integral part of my support system. My guidance was to enjoy it’s support two days a week. Those two days were the best days of my week emotionally, and also in terms of productivity.
 
It may support you as well.
 
Here’s what I like about it.
 
1. It improves my mood significantly without making me ungrounded.
 
2. It’s a social lubricant and a heart opener. I’ve had very healing conversations with everyone from my mother to my ex, with a little help from this friend. And when I was in my grieving cave there were at least two days a week where I was willing to get out and connect with people. That brought me joy.
 
3. It offers extremely effective pain relief, a viable holistic alternative to prescription drugs for pain management. 
 
4. It’s a great tool for getting stuff done. Even more than coffee, which it’s a relative of, it motivates me to knock things off my to do list that I’ve been putting off. Yet there are no jitters like caffeine. It’s mild energy boost is also accompanied by a reduction in anxiety. Amazing plant.
 
If you have read this far and feel a curiosity to find out more, shoot me a reply.
 
Warmly,
Scott
 
 
Scott Grace creates custom made Song Portraits that honor and touch people you love. In adition, Scott is a life coach who does sessions via phone, Facetime or Skype. Read more about his coaching practice at Intuitive Life Coaching Jump Starts & Tune Ups.

Saturday, March 11, 2017

Open the Mind to Open The Heart

There's a kind of thinking that blocks the light 
And makes me uptight
That sees two colors, just black and just white
That looks through the lens of what’s wrong and what’s right
And always is ready to run or to fight
 

It’s the kind of thinking that’s easy to see in Donald Trump, but not as easy to observe within myself.
 

I’ve been playing a game lately that helps me get free of that kind of black and white, us versus them thinking. 

The game is to look at something or someone that I have strong opinions or feelings about, and state my righteous, rigid and frigid opinion to myself, as if I am placing it in my right hand. 

Then I open the palm of my left hand and say, “On the other hand…” and force myself to see it from another point of view. 

And maybe even stretch a little more to include one more point of perspective that might have some validity for some folks.

Suddenly it’s no longer a black and white issue, There are grey areas, maybe even some colors. I have less enemy images in my head, and more room to see the humanity in people who don't share my opinions.


The more I honor the possible validity of more than my own cherished point of view, the more my mind, and thus my heart, opens.


Being polarized sucks. 


The North Pole and the South Pole on this earth have one thing in common: they are both freaking ass cold.

We can all bring some warmth to the current polarized political climate by playing this game, which pours the warmth of empathy onto our ego ice caps, ice that needs melting if we are going to become more fluid. Because becoming more fluid leads us right to...solutions!

Thursday, February 9, 2017

Lessons Being Learned at Trump University

As an appetizer to today’s main course, have a little listen to:

 An optimistic and playful little song about the end of the world!



"Nothing Real Can Be Threatened."

-A Course in Miracles

This post is about Donald Trump and the sense of threat he either elicits or soothes.

One of the first times I recall feeling a sense of threat was when I was in first grade.

We used to have what were called surprise shelter drills. 

An alarm would go off in the middle of the school day and we had to march out of our classroom into the hallway and crouch down on the floor hugging our heads between our knees.

This was supposedly the safest position to be in just in case a nuclear bomb hit our city.

One day I read up on nuclear bombs and learned how they vaporize human beings instantly, no matter what yoga posture one practices in whatever classroom or hallway.

From then on mushroom cloud nightmares plagued my night life as a growing boy. That shit was whacked!

Teachers of Zen used to whack students on the head with a stick when they got distracted, as if to say, “Wake up! Pay attention! Be here now!”

Here and now we appear to have a Zen stick occupying the oval office, whacking humanity with his every tweet. 

The good news is masses of people are waking up and paying attention.

Welcome to earth 2017, currently populated with humans dealing with the latest installment of PTSD, President Trump Stress Disorder.

Questions That Improve Digestion

Having trouble digesting it all? 

Me too. 

Here are some questions I’ve been chewing on lately that are helping soothe my troubled digestive system.

Could Donald be playing the part of a colonic that is helping to get the crap moving that’s been stuck in our system, igniting masses of previously apathetic people to participate in the political process? 

Could this President Trump Stress Disorder somehow be a part of Divine Order?

What would Jesus do if he were around in this time in history? 

Might he be advising us to love our enemas, or might he advise us to kick the money changer out of the temple?

Or perhaps both?

I like to see our collective adversity as group therapy in which everything that is brought to the table serves the personal growth and evolution of humanity.

"It takes great learning to understand that all things, events, encounters and circumstances are helpful."

~ A Course in Miracles

Donald J. Trump is providing enormous opportunities to bring up Daddy issues and lessons in discernment for all of us to grow.

To many he’s a repeat of an abusive father, a bully that we need to speak up to with a bullhorn, inspiring us to find our voice and take our power back.

And to others he’s Big Daddy, a protector/savior/hero with the balls to say the hard stuff, make the hard decisions, and shake everything up.

It's like there are two worlds.

In one Trump is grabbing our collective pussy, violating our sacred feminine energy.

And in a whole different world, right here on the same planet, Trump supporters are finding their balls, thanks to him. They were already experiencing a sense threat coming from foreigners invading our country through leaky borders/boundaries, taking our jobs and terrorizing our nation.

Here comes Daddy Trump, Towering to the rescue!


I love what Emmanuel, channeled by Pat Rodegast, says in one of his books:

Fear says I will keep you safe. Love whispers, you already are safe.


Those who feel threatened by Trump and those who feel he has come to soothe threat are currently camped out in two diametrically opposed worlds.

Can we agree to disagree?  Can we respect our differences? Is there a rational conversation available when a sense of threat is so active in both camps? Or is this a case like oil and water naturally parting due to forces of nature?


The Chinese symbol for crisis consists of both danger and opportunity.

We called this in for the opportunity. The greater the sense of threat, the greater the healing opportunity available.

But what does one do if you, like me, want all of us to just get along?

I’ve been a peacemaker my whole life. I’m not a fan of strong conflicts, people being hurt. I make my living building bridges, not walls.

But I recognize that nature sometimes burns forests down to make way for new life, and that trying run around putting out fires is not always in our best interests in the long run. 


Let these times burn.

After the fire destroys the old and decaying, new, lush life rises from the ashes.

It's lovely that a Course in Miracles says "Nothing real can be threatened", but then what do we do with our sense of threat that our ego believes is real and valid?
 

How do you heal, personally, when your nervous system is so freakin’ nervous?

For me, meditation, practicing the lessons of A Course in Miracles, EFT tapping, inner child work, and regular weekly coaching/therapy are all helpful.

But I’m also a big believer in saying NO! And in some cases, NO FUCKING WAY!

If you were a child and you were violated by a parent who used their authority and their power to keep you down,  then this Trump Presidency is your chance to speak up, reclaim your power, and heal the energy of past violation by standing up to present abuse.

If you feel inspired to shout NO! at a perceived injustice or violation, I would encourage you shout it with all your heart and all your resources. 


Liberate your passion. 

No slumping shoulders and no head hanging low.


Time to rise up. This is an uprising. 

And let your NO lead you to your YES that you also express loudly and boldly.
 

When you are planted in your passionate yes, focused on your positive vision, you no longer have an opposition to oppose.

No opposition. No enemies.

"The opposite of love is fear, but what is all encompassing can have no opposite.”


-
A Course in Miracles 



Both Trump supporters and detractors have all been feeling threatened. Everyone wants and deserves to feel safe. 

A sense of threat is fueled by the adrenal glands, and adrenaline offer us two choices: fight or flight.
 

There is so much more to us than that.

We have grown beyond in so many ways. Evolution is with us.

People like Jesus, Martin Luther King and Gandhi have brought to humanity a choice other than fight or flight, a way of being that rests the adrenals and activates the pineal gland, which secretes the wisdom and love that triumph over fright and might every time. 


Love always wins. Eventually. Which is why eternal patience and a Big Picture perspective is vital to keep your spirits up and your light brighlty shining.

We have been here as lightworkers. And now, thanks to the invitation and initiation brought on by Donald Trump, we are also love activists.



Here's your to do list, love activist.
 

1. Make a stand for what you are marching towards. ( I am pro-love!)

2. Pay no mind to what you are marching away from. (I am not anti-fear)

This is the curriculum here at Trump University.


We are learning to march on the high road already paved by Gandhi, King, Jesus, Rosa Parks, Harriet Tubman.

There is no opposition, just an opportunity for masses of people to stand up and reclaim Lady Liberty, the welcoming feminine energy of inclusiveness that made this country great.

Trump and his belief system has bitch slapped the rising feminine energy on this planet. And she will not take this lying down. Her time has come, and we will restore her rightful place.

Hell, we stood up to a tyrant king once before, and it worked out pretty well.

Fear says I will keep you safe. Love whispers, You already are safe.
 


These are exciting times...
 


For dessert, take a listen to this playful little song about the end of the world:  What If?
 



Sincerely,

Scott Grace


See Scott Cut Loose as the Spiritual Dr. Seuss

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Wednesday, February 1, 2017

I Haven't Had Sex In Three Years (Here's Why I Am Letting You Know)


Over the weekend I posted something on me personal Facebook page that created a stir. Here it is:


I have not had sex in three years. Not that I'm counting. Well, maybe I am. How can I say I'm not counting if I just did the math. I've never gone this amount of days/months/years/ without having sex, unless you count the first eighteen years of life. Am I complaining? A little. But mostly I am just noting a fact. And noticing that I've survived without it. Sometimes even thrived. I send these words in a time capsule directed to my trembling teenage self when he thought ending viginity was the secret to building confidence: "Dude, you are a valid, lovable, and precious human being, and getting laid, which will happen sooner than you think, will be icing on the cake: a celebration, not a validation of your manhood. You are here to penetrate the world with your love, and you will do so with your huge, throbbing, pulsating organ in the center of your chest. Sex, like everything else in this world, will come and go. Just make sure that when it comes, you get vocal with your joy, and direct all praise loudly to God!


Most of my Facebook friends appreciated the post. One person wrote back:


Really? You put this on an open forum website?? Gotta wonder WHY!


I thought my response to her might be helpful for people who struggle with finding the courage to express vulnerability in a world that might not seem to value it.


One can wonder that. One can also wonder why not? A WONDER-FUL thing about the world we share is that it is filled with a variety of people with a variety of different styles, beliefs, and frames of references. I do respect your right to privacy. Let me explain to you why I don't respect mine so much. I practice a spiritual teaching called a Course in Miracles. One of the daily lessons is: In My Defenselessness My Safety Lies. The 12 Steps also teach: We are as sick as our secrets. For me, I just find that as I practice transparency, even on public forums like facebook, the amount of love and kindness that comes back at me is often staggering. Why would I deprive myself of such support and intimacy? This kind of sharing also helps me release shame, and help others drop their shame. And it sometimes tends to weed out people in my life that don't really belong. And, who knows, it might also lead to sex!


Hope this was helpful!
Warmly,
Scott

Friday, January 27, 2017

How Can I Forget? (Remembering to Value Ourselves)


Do you, like me, sometimes forget that you have valuable things to offer others, things that do not get shared until we learn to value ourselves ? If so, this one's for you...


Recently a friend asked me if I knew of a good counselor for some friends of his that were going through relationship challenges. I told him nobody crossed my mind, but I'd get back to him if someone did.

How could I forget?

A week later I remembered, and called him back. 


I remembered that I was quite good at working with couples. He told his friends about me and we had an excellent first session.

Why didn’t I initially toot my own horn?

Because a little voice I call the inner critic, who sometimes I listen to as if it were my counselor, told me that because I am not currently in a relationship and because I don’t have a traditional degree on my wall, nor an office, that I’m not qualified.

Never mind that I have been coaching individuals and couples since 1989!

The truth is I have qualifications coming out of my ears. Most recently a few years of study at Aesclepion Intuitive Training Institute in the Bay Area, and in the 1980's a decade of training and assisting at the Loving Relationships Training in NYC, not to mention thirty years of working on myself diligently in therapy and many other modalities, which I believe, is the best qualification there is.

From taking the Clairvoyant Training at Aesclepion I learned tools to tune into people, to not take on their energies, to see their auras and chakras, and to maintain a balance point between compassion and detachment.  I learned about staying grounded, and I learned how to become aware of when my own issues were being activated, get out of my way, and really be there to assist.

How did I forget?

After graduating from there I spent a few years putting myself out a psychic, and quickly got burned out. People wanted me to predict when and where they might meet a soulmate, or when they may run smack right into a pile of money. I did not see the value in reading possible futures for people.
 

For me there was no future in it! 
 
The only thing I like to predict is that as we learn to stop holding hands with fear, exciting changes happen that are deliciously unpredictable. Who needs predictions, when you have personal power and a magical universe to play and prosper in?

If the use of my intuitive gifts does not lead to personal power, palpable progress and practical next steps, then, as they say from my home town of Brooklyn, Fuggetabouttit!

How did I forget? And how can I remember?

I do remember how much staying grounded was stressed in that clairvoyant school. It kind of stressed me out, how much staying grounded was stressed. I have to admit I never did care too much about being grounded. Look at my daughter. She loves leaving the ground.
 





What I want is to be happy, feet on the ground or not.

Besides, maybe I was grounded too much in my childhood!

I still use my intuitive gifts in sessions, but not to read the future...more to help people feel seen, honored, and less alone. 



It's a healing onto itself when people feel that sense that I 'get' them.

Sometimes people come to a session tight-lipped, maybe to test me, maybe to build trust. They want me to tune in and tell them what I see and sense without volunteering anything about themselves, their desires or their challenges. 


It’s a little scary sometimes. 

Performance anxiety passes through my nervous system, but after a few breaths it leaves. And words and visions never fail to show up.

One time at a Psychic Fair a young man not even twenty plopped down on the chair in front of me and asked me to ‘read’ him. He refused to give me a topic to ‘look’ at. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his friends waiting outside the door. fidgeting, maybe even giggling. I imagined they dared him to get a reading, or they drew straws and he got the short one. I closed my eyes, got connected, and asked to be of service.
 

I see you as a young Harry Potter type of person at Hogwarts Earth, taking a course in the Dark Arts, finding out all you can about how dark darkness can be. The darkness might be a current part of your curriculum, but it does define you. There's nothing permanent about it. It’s just a course you are taking to gather some experiences. You will, when you are ready, come to the other side of this and graduate to more fulfilling curriculums and easier classrooms. You do have a part to play on earth, a juicy contribution to make. At some point you will ask yourself what you want to do to make a positive difference amidst all the madness you see around you. From there you will be inspired. From there you will find your way."

I heard some sniffling and opened my eyes, happy to witness tears spilling over and softening his previously stiff facial expression. Having felt seen, he also felt much safer, and proceeded to ask me some pointed questions about his specific challenges. I was able to give him some practical, dare I say grounded guidance. He mumbled a few words of gratitude, then slipped away, back to his gothic friends. I wondered what he told them.


How did I forget that I am here and qualified to make a difference? 


And how can I remember, more consistently, that I'm good enough!

It baffles my mind that just last week I forgot to mention to my friend that I was good at working with couples.
 

So glad I remembered.

Keeping silent about our gifts is not humility, nor is it wisdom.

It’s fear.

I will not be silent. I am here. And I am available.

"I Am Here To Be Truly Helpful"

-A Course in Miracles

Scott Grace delights in being truly helpful in sessions over the phone, in person, Facetime or by Skype. Email him at info@scottsongs.com to set up a time, or find out more at www.scottsongs.com




Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Being a Light in a Tunnel

The first time I met Richard on a Manhattan subway, it was 1985. I noticed him right away. Big, black, and beautiful, he was busy breaking the unwritten, but widely adhered to, laws of the NYC underground: mind your own business; bury your face in a newspaper; and, above all, don’t talk to strangers. 

He was having none of that.

He approached me with a twinkle in his eye and an irresistible question. “Would you like to see a picture of the next savior of the world?”

I had no idea what he was up to, but I was intrigued by the warm, mischievous way about him, and I wanted to play along. “I’d love to!” I said.


He took out a mirror and held it up to my face. 

“Surprise, you’re it!”

‘Not it!’ 


I was twenty years old, out on my own for the first time, a college dropout aspiring to believe in myself....not a savior of anything.

Every few months I would run into Richard around the city. One night I was strolling through Greenwich Village smoking pot. I stumbled upon Richard talking to a gathering of teenagers sitting on a stoop, captivated by his charisma. As I got closer I heard enough to realize he was using his gifts of rap, poetry, and humor to encourage them to stay away from drugs. 


Just as I started to turn around and quickly walk the other way, he spotted me. He called me over and gave me a big bear hug as I inconspicuously dropped the joint to the sidewalk and braced myself for his reaction to the pungent cloud of smoke around me. But his heart chose to not register the aroma, and he immediately engaged me in the sort of conversation one does their best to avoid when one is stoned.

He asked me what I did for a living. I told him I was peddling laundry bags on the streets, but that I was also a singer-songwriter and in training to become a workshop leader and a practitioner of rebirthing. He became animated and excited. “I’ve been wanting to find out about rebirthing!” he exclaimed. Before I had time to guess what was coming next he had taken a pocket tape recorder out of his briefcase, pressed the record button, and said, “ Scott, a professional rebirther, will now give a short talk on rebirthing!” He put the mike up to my mouth, and I managed to sputter out a few sentences on the therapeutic breathing technique that had been rocking my world at the time.

Although he had strong feelings about living a drug-free life, Richard never mentioned the marijuana. He had even stronger feelings about loving and accepting people as they were, seeing the beauty and magnificence in them even when they weren’t yet seeing it in themselves.

We kept running into each other in odd places and through it all a friendship emerged. I nicknamed him Swami Subwaynanda, and he liked it. Richard’s subway ministry was a big part of his life.

A spiritual teacher I was studying with at the time warned her students to avoid the subways. She said the vibrations down there were too dense and could be very draining to sensitive souls seeking to serve humanity. 


I was glad that Richard hadn’t studied with her.

Anyone who doubts Jesus’ prophecy that we would one day do greater works has never seen Richard raise a crowd of people in a subway car from the dead. Once I saw him get almost everyone on the train to chant “More hugging, less mugging!” This was his signature slogan. I started spotting it on window decals and bumper stickers all over the city. Richard, who had once been a police officer in Syracuse, had discovered that he preferred preventing crime with creativity and love to fighting crime with might.

Besides being a blazing light in the tunnels of the city, Richard was also a political activist, a community organizer, a gospel singer, a rap artist, a minister, a gifted and moving poet, and a great improviser. We shared wonderful times together making up songs in the moment, and he was a big supporter of my newly emerging musical career. I was thrilled to have a man twenty years my senior believe in me so enthusiastically.

One tune of mine, Follow Your Heart, was his clear favorite. “That song’s meant to be BIG, Scott! The whole world needs to know about that song!” I had written and sung it as a folk ballad. Richard thought it was more suited for gospel. He performed and recorded it at his church. When he shared the tape with me, it was so full of his heart and soul I could hardly recognize my own song! He had brought it to life, just as he did everything and everyone around him.

Richard was a Christian, and loved Jesus in a big way. He was fired up with a sense of purpose, and considered himself a missionary of sorts. But he didn’t share his church or his dogma: he shared his Spirit. And I had never before met a traditional Christian who so honored everyone's spiritual and religious points of view. His missionary position, pun intended, was that everybody belonged on top.

When I moved to California in 1990, I didn’t keep in touch with Richard. Early in 2003, through Google, he found me. After an email exchange we had a wonderful phone conversation, catching each other up on the too many years we had been out of touch. Feeling like the prodigal son returning, I apologized for how long I had been out of contact. He welcomed me with open arms, and expressed a strong desire to hear the music that had come out of me since leaving N.Y.C. I sent him nine CD’s... thirteen years of material he had not heard before.

Two months later Richard’s wife phoned to tell me that he had just had a heart attack on a bus and didn’t make it. She wanted me to know that he had spoken of me often over the years and had loved me deeply, and also that he had been thoroughly enjoying the music I had sent. I told her how much he had meant to me, that he had infused me with his passion in such a way that my life had been forever touched and blessed.

Connecting once again just before his death was such a gift for both of us. And now I’d like to speak directly to my friend.

Richard, I will always be grateful for your example of fearless living and loving, as well as the sincere interest you took in me. I will always remember you holding that mirror to my face the first time we met. Back then I thought you were delightfully crazy, and ever since I’ve been aspiring to reach your level of insanity. You passed your torch on to me and countless others. Help us hold it high, dear brother, and continue to support us in being the light that we are, the light that you showed me in the mirror, the light in the tunnel. I love you and thank you for your precious gifts to me and to this planet. 


Following in Richard's footsteps, I've been offering Free Hugs in Sausalito. It has become a tradition when I have free time to gather a group of friends, make signs, and go out and hug people! You would be surprised how many people accept our offer. It's such a joyous way to spend an afternoon. Long Live Free Hugs!






Scott Grace creates custom-made songs to honor loved ones on special occasions. His Song Portraits make amazing gifts that touch the heart like nothing can. He is also a guide and coach for those on a personal growth path. His website is www.scottsongs.com

Friday, January 20, 2017

If Donald Trump Triggers You...

When Barack became President, many of us, including myself, projected unresolved father issues upon him, giving him more power than he actually had. Secretly I held hope that he might fix things for me, for others, and for the world. I projected upon President Obama what I would call my positive shadow self. I wanted him to be what only I could ever be, and only for myself: a savior.

Now, many of us, myself included, are projecting our negative shadow material onto President Trump.

While almost half our country and maybe even Trump himself might be projecting onto him the savior role, I suspect that most people on my email list are projecting (inaugurating) him into a role that is the opposite of savior.

If Trump triggers you, meaning watching or listening to him elicits fear, anger, rage, or sorrow, here’s my take on four options you have for dealing with it:

Option 1: Become Politically Active! If you are activated, get active! Turn your outrage into outrageous action... marching, peaceful resistance, donating your time or money. If you can’t stand Trump, turn your attention away from what you can’t stand and turn it towards what you do stand for. Anger is destructive when it is accompanied by a belief in powerlessness, but it is wildly constructive when directed towards what you love, what you do want to create. Channeled into your passion and commitment, rage is simply your life force waking up. Wake up, rise up, and go out there and change the world with all that energy. This is what fueled Martin Luther King. Have a dream! Be a game changer!

Option 2: Become Politically Inactive! If you get triggered when you think of Trump being the Prez, and you don’t want to get involved politically, then don’t. And I mean really don’t. Stay the hell away.

Put your energy where it wants to go.  Don’t watch or read the news unless you feel good about staying informed. Otherwise, let ignorance lead to your bliss. In other words, give yourself 100% permission to ignore (conscious ignorance) what is going on politically, and commit to filling your life with love and positive energy. Show yourself and your children that, whoever our ‘leaders’ happen to be, we are 100% responsible for leading ourselves and creating fulfilling lives.

Option 3: Bless Him! Whenever you read about or watch Trump, use the power of your intention to bless him and his work. See him as a Child of God doing his best. Choose peace. Send him love and light, and send love and blessings to the parts of you that dislike him intensely. The intensity of your dislike reflects that he is acting out disowned parts of you. So you can thank him for helping you see, integrate, and welcome home your disowned shadow.  A song of mine, The Asshole Song, might assist you in this noble quest.

Option 3 is not for everyone.

Funny how options 1 and 2 seem to be exact opposites, but they do have one thing in common: You make a commitment to avoid focusing on what you can’t stand, and instead keep your focus on what you stand for.

That means less complaining and venting. It means not hanging out in conversations with relatives, friends, Facebook or online chat rooms where the environment is filled with the addictive smoke of Ain’t it Awful.

Isn’t it interesting that so many people who would never dream of polluting their bodies with tobacco, crack or meth, will fill their minds each day with their mental equivalent.

Which leads us to our fourth option.

Option 4: Suffer! It’s a very popular choice, and so, on the bright side, you won’t be alone. There are millions of people on this planet who will stand in solidarity with you.

For me, I find that listening or watching Trump makes me cringe. And until that changes, until I can enjoy him as the character he is playing out without projecting upon him all my fears and unresolved issues, my choice will be to not listen or watch him. Why? Because I care about how I feel. I care about what I put into my mind as much as much as what I put into my body. I would not inhale from a crack pipe, so why would I inhale what the media offers me if it makes me smoking mad, scared, sad or frustrated?

If you are ready to make light of the part of you that reacts to Trump or in general feels like a victim of anyone or anything, if you are willing to have a big laugh at your ego’s expense, here is a funny song I wrote, a satire on Neal Sedaka’s classic song Breaking Up is Hard to Do. It’s called Waking Up Is Hard to Do, and it is the opening song in this here video.

So, to wrap this up, whoever is in the Oval Office becomes a projection screen for us to project what is unfulfilled or unresolved in our psyches. Part of our maturation process involves becoming willing to stop seeing our president as our leader, our savior or our devil, and commit to leading and saving ourselves, and maybe even our neighbors, and our planet.

And if you need some help in that process, I am always here with a song portrait or a coaching/healing session to steer you in a more positive direction.


With Joy,

Scott Grace