One more point about "making it," which I just mused about in my last entry, and how New York seems to be obsessed with this concept, and how I want to let it go:
I think that people think they want to "make it," but what they really want is to be happy. And they assume--it is widely assumed--that "making it" automatically equates to happiness.
I don't think it does. I only need to listen to Joni Mitchell's album "Blue" to understand the reality of profound sadness at a time when someone seems on top of the world. After a long struggle through poverty and obscurity, Joni had gotten recognition and fame for her talents, and wrote most of "Blue" while vacationing in Europe.
To be able to afford to vacation in Europe, on the earnings of my successful previous albums, seems like an incredible reality to me.
But she didn't write songs titled, "Oh How Happy I Am."
She wrote lines like "I am on a lonely road and I am traveling...the jealousy, the greed is the unraveling, and it undoes all the good that could be."
I'm not writing this to say that anyone should stop doing what we're doing, including and especially myself. I'm simply writing the reality that we have to do what we do for the sake of doing it alone, and not because we think it leads us to an outcome that guarantees happiness.
Because it doesn't.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Making It
Most people I have met in NYC want to "make it." They want to be recognized for what they do, want a Wikipedia page (which apparently is quite difficult to get), want to make a lot of money from whatever it is they do.
This makes sense. You don't come to New York in search of the simple life. You come here because New York is the hub of most things, and if you're good at what you do, being here can put you with the right people who are also good at what they do, and you can join forces, amplify your efforts, and fly to the moon.
And the moon is actually where you want to go, after being in New York for a while, because there's a lot more space there and the rent is much cheaper.
But then you want to come back, because there are better restaurants here, and it's kind of boring up there.
I digress.
Back to my point, that people come to New York to "make it." And then there are these "making it" markers, like getting mentioned or featured in the New York Times. Being able to support yourself only on your art. Getting a better apartment. It's a list that can go on forever.
Being here, I feel myself getting into this "making it" mentality. I came here with much more modest ambitions than I have since cultivated. Perhaps it is because things have gone well so far, and this inspires me to think bigger. Or perhaps it is because I am surrounded by reminders of the success and accomplishments that are possible, not far away but a few blocks away, or right next to me.
I want to let go of this.
In my spirit, in my heart, I know it is not the right way. If I strive for "success" and base it on invented markers, or what I see around me, I will always be unhappy. And, ironically, I think I will be less "successful."
What yoga teaches, and what I believe is true, is selfless service. Work because it is right and necessary, not for the sake of outcomes. And when I think about my music this way, it makes me want to focus only on the music, and the most authentic ways to share it, and how to share it most beautifully.
It makes me less frantic about "am I going to make it?" and more at peace with my purpose, and at peace with the idea that it is the music itself which will go where it needs to, as far as it needs to, and my job is to nurture it and set it out into the world, like a mother, out of love, rather than an agent, for a commission.
This makes sense. You don't come to New York in search of the simple life. You come here because New York is the hub of most things, and if you're good at what you do, being here can put you with the right people who are also good at what they do, and you can join forces, amplify your efforts, and fly to the moon.
And the moon is actually where you want to go, after being in New York for a while, because there's a lot more space there and the rent is much cheaper.
But then you want to come back, because there are better restaurants here, and it's kind of boring up there.
I digress.
Back to my point, that people come to New York to "make it." And then there are these "making it" markers, like getting mentioned or featured in the New York Times. Being able to support yourself only on your art. Getting a better apartment. It's a list that can go on forever.
Being here, I feel myself getting into this "making it" mentality. I came here with much more modest ambitions than I have since cultivated. Perhaps it is because things have gone well so far, and this inspires me to think bigger. Or perhaps it is because I am surrounded by reminders of the success and accomplishments that are possible, not far away but a few blocks away, or right next to me.
I want to let go of this.
In my spirit, in my heart, I know it is not the right way. If I strive for "success" and base it on invented markers, or what I see around me, I will always be unhappy. And, ironically, I think I will be less "successful."
What yoga teaches, and what I believe is true, is selfless service. Work because it is right and necessary, not for the sake of outcomes. And when I think about my music this way, it makes me want to focus only on the music, and the most authentic ways to share it, and how to share it most beautifully.
It makes me less frantic about "am I going to make it?" and more at peace with my purpose, and at peace with the idea that it is the music itself which will go where it needs to, as far as it needs to, and my job is to nurture it and set it out into the world, like a mother, out of love, rather than an agent, for a commission.
The Pause Between Storms Never Seems Long Enough
You forget that you're in a pause. You know that the last storm has ended and you're glad to be floating along in the sea of normal worries, the ones you always seem to find, in your mind, no matter what. And then something happens that is an actual, legitimate reason to worry, and makes all those little worries that were filling up the pause seem insignificant. And you wish you were back in the pause. You didn't realize how good it was there.
The storms are always going to come. We can't control them. We can only control our reactions. We can only go on. And since we will have to go on, we might as well be at peace, be calm through the storms, and calm through the pauses.
OMMMMMMMMMM.
The storms are always going to come. We can't control them. We can only control our reactions. We can only go on. And since we will have to go on, we might as well be at peace, be calm through the storms, and calm through the pauses.
OMMMMMMMMMM.
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Money
I decided to take ads off my blog. It's been, what, a year now, and my grand total is just over $4. Once I get $100, they will pay me. But if my math serves me correctly, at the pace I'm going, I will get paid in 25 years. I can't wait that long, so I might as well just give google ads the ol' chopperoo.
This is the problem with being an artist. You do your thing, the thing that burns in your soul that you can't imagine doing anything but, the thing that people love and adore and makes them smile and cheer.
And you get some sort of idea that you could someday get paid for it.
But then you don't get paid.
It's not about the money, though, right? So you say, "Screw the money! I'm not in this for the money! I'm making my ART!"
And you disable google ads or you stop doing the gigs you are only doing because they pay you and you move forward in the most pristine, un-whore-like way you can, radiant in your "I'm an artist and I'm not doing this for the money" glory. And you make your ART!
The only problem is, you gotta pay the bills somehow. So now you wind up doing something completely unrelated to your art to pay the bills.
The next thing you know, that "pay the bills" thing is consuming all of your time and energy, and next thing you know, seven years have gone by, you've advanced in your career, and nobody you work with even knows you're an artist.
Or maybe that was just me.
It's not just me. It's the conundrum of being an artist. You do something else to pay the bills and your soul hurts because you're not doing your art. Or, you do your art and you struggle. Even people who are making it work by doing their art, by hook or by crook, are struggling. At least, the ones I've met.
I recently met a woman who has been at the music thing for 20 years. She has built up a strong local reputation and business, yet confided to me that if it weren't for her spouse, she would not be able to sustain herself and her artistic endeavors. She told me that she hopes her son goes into finance or a similar field, hopes that he isn't interested in the arts.
And I totally get this. And this was exactly what my voice teacher had told me many years ago, advice I tried to heed: "If you can think of anything else to do besides music, do that."
So I tried. But ultimately, I couldn't. If the music is in you, I truly believe this now, it's always going to be in you. There's nothing you can do about it. It's a calling. It doesn't go away.
It's a gift, I suppose. That's what people are always saying, and it is, of course. But it's also a curse, because you may not be able to make money doing it, and that can be very frustrating, to work so hard at something for so long and not be able to support yourself in the world in exchange for it.
But it doesn't matter, because you just have to keep doing it, somehow.
How do we learn to enjoy the struggle?
This is the problem with being an artist. You do your thing, the thing that burns in your soul that you can't imagine doing anything but, the thing that people love and adore and makes them smile and cheer.
And you get some sort of idea that you could someday get paid for it.
But then you don't get paid.
It's not about the money, though, right? So you say, "Screw the money! I'm not in this for the money! I'm making my ART!"
And you disable google ads or you stop doing the gigs you are only doing because they pay you and you move forward in the most pristine, un-whore-like way you can, radiant in your "I'm an artist and I'm not doing this for the money" glory. And you make your ART!
The only problem is, you gotta pay the bills somehow. So now you wind up doing something completely unrelated to your art to pay the bills.
The next thing you know, that "pay the bills" thing is consuming all of your time and energy, and next thing you know, seven years have gone by, you've advanced in your career, and nobody you work with even knows you're an artist.
Or maybe that was just me.
It's not just me. It's the conundrum of being an artist. You do something else to pay the bills and your soul hurts because you're not doing your art. Or, you do your art and you struggle. Even people who are making it work by doing their art, by hook or by crook, are struggling. At least, the ones I've met.
I recently met a woman who has been at the music thing for 20 years. She has built up a strong local reputation and business, yet confided to me that if it weren't for her spouse, she would not be able to sustain herself and her artistic endeavors. She told me that she hopes her son goes into finance or a similar field, hopes that he isn't interested in the arts.
And I totally get this. And this was exactly what my voice teacher had told me many years ago, advice I tried to heed: "If you can think of anything else to do besides music, do that."
So I tried. But ultimately, I couldn't. If the music is in you, I truly believe this now, it's always going to be in you. There's nothing you can do about it. It's a calling. It doesn't go away.
It's a gift, I suppose. That's what people are always saying, and it is, of course. But it's also a curse, because you may not be able to make money doing it, and that can be very frustrating, to work so hard at something for so long and not be able to support yourself in the world in exchange for it.
But it doesn't matter, because you just have to keep doing it, somehow.
How do we learn to enjoy the struggle?
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Only for Now
Life goes really fast. The good things pass, and bad things do, too.
My good friend just called to tell me she got engaged.
I have been looking forward to this phone call for the entire nine years I have known her. More than anyone I know, she is a total romantic and unfailing optimist. She believed that one day her prince would come, even in the midst of a long succession of candidates who ultimately revealed themselves to be frogs, one after another.
My friend never let it get her down. She would take some time to be sad, but after a few weeks had gone by, she would dress up in a nice outfit, put on some makeup, and get herself back "out there."
When she finally met her prince, I didn't believe her at first. In the beginning, she described him in glowing terms, with familiar optimism. Her hopes were up again, but I didn't want to get mine up, for fear of my friend's eventual disappointment.
But this guy was the one. He was a doll, he adored her, they wanted the same things in life. He made her happy.
Today, April Fool's Day, she called me. I answered, "Is this an April Fool's joke? Are you calling to tell me you got engaged?"
"It's not an April Fool's joke, but I am calling to tell you I got engaged!"
Just as when she first told me about him, it took me a moment to really believe her. But it was the truth.
Everything is temporary, good and bad. You may be in a job that you hate. You may be in a long streak of relationships that don't work out. But if you continue to take steps that will ultimately move you to a different place, eventually you are going to get there. It might not feel that way. But where you are now is not where you will always be.
And when you are in that different place, in the future, you will likely look back on your present life and be wistful for at least certain parts of it. Don't you find that now? You look back on times in your life when you know you struggled, or were generally unhappy, but cherish certain memories? You realize you had things then that you were completely obvious to at the time, but in hindsight were truly precious?
This is why actively practicing gratitude is so important. Even taking time to focus on the positive things in your current life will not reveal all of them to you, but it will reveal more than what you would have seen without an intention to do so. This will allow you greater enjoyment of the present moment, so it's not only in looking back that you realize what you had.
The present moment will pass. And things will change for the better, if you are walking that way, but gratitude allows us to enjoy the walk.
And belief that you will get where you're going, even if you don't know how long it will take, will ensure that you don't stop walking.
Or kissing frogs when the very next one might be your prince.
My good friend just called to tell me she got engaged.
I have been looking forward to this phone call for the entire nine years I have known her. More than anyone I know, she is a total romantic and unfailing optimist. She believed that one day her prince would come, even in the midst of a long succession of candidates who ultimately revealed themselves to be frogs, one after another.
My friend never let it get her down. She would take some time to be sad, but after a few weeks had gone by, she would dress up in a nice outfit, put on some makeup, and get herself back "out there."
When she finally met her prince, I didn't believe her at first. In the beginning, she described him in glowing terms, with familiar optimism. Her hopes were up again, but I didn't want to get mine up, for fear of my friend's eventual disappointment.
But this guy was the one. He was a doll, he adored her, they wanted the same things in life. He made her happy.
Today, April Fool's Day, she called me. I answered, "Is this an April Fool's joke? Are you calling to tell me you got engaged?"
"It's not an April Fool's joke, but I am calling to tell you I got engaged!"
Just as when she first told me about him, it took me a moment to really believe her. But it was the truth.
Everything is temporary, good and bad. You may be in a job that you hate. You may be in a long streak of relationships that don't work out. But if you continue to take steps that will ultimately move you to a different place, eventually you are going to get there. It might not feel that way. But where you are now is not where you will always be.
And when you are in that different place, in the future, you will likely look back on your present life and be wistful for at least certain parts of it. Don't you find that now? You look back on times in your life when you know you struggled, or were generally unhappy, but cherish certain memories? You realize you had things then that you were completely obvious to at the time, but in hindsight were truly precious?
This is why actively practicing gratitude is so important. Even taking time to focus on the positive things in your current life will not reveal all of them to you, but it will reveal more than what you would have seen without an intention to do so. This will allow you greater enjoyment of the present moment, so it's not only in looking back that you realize what you had.
The present moment will pass. And things will change for the better, if you are walking that way, but gratitude allows us to enjoy the walk.
And belief that you will get where you're going, even if you don't know how long it will take, will ensure that you don't stop walking.
Or kissing frogs when the very next one might be your prince.
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