Living the Questions
Last Saturday I went to the Texas Book Festival with Jana & her friend Heidi to see Terri Hendrix & Lloyd Maines performing in the music tent. I’d heard a lot about Terri over the years from Jana’s blog, played her songs on my radio show and I even saw her perform about four songs or so at a benefit in my first month or so here in Austin, but this was a full hour set.
I love the book festival logo!
As they were setting up, Terri was scanning the audience, checking out who was there, smiling and nodding and connecting with people between tuning her guitar, setting up her mic stand and such. I wasn’t sure she would remember me from the brief time we met, but I did mouth “Hi,” when her glance fell on me and she said “Hi,” back, there was a genuine connection I definitely appreciated whether or not she did remember me specifically.
As she started playing, I started crying. She was so graceful, gracious and connected. Her lyrics spoke to me, her presentation riveted me. Terri is not the first musician to move me so deeply, but being surrounded by so much music here in Austin, the ones that can still give me goosebumps & make me cry are clearly the cream of the crop.
The stage has mojo on it!
I wanted to ask her, “Why am I doing this?” I could see, even in how each song appeared to be effortless, how much work went into making it seem that way. Another thing that comes with the territory of spending more time with musicians is hearing more of the “war stories”. The terrible gigs where no one showed up, where the sound system was jacked, where the people sitting in the front row would not shut up, where the payment terms are pitiful or the food is crap, trouble with airports, luggage, customs, etc, etc.
Almost as soon as I had the thought, I knew also that even if I actually asked, her answer would be something along the lines of, “That is a very important question and a thing you need to find out for yourself.” The Rilke quote about living the questions came to mind at that moment as well.
Somehow, through the course of that hour, the small, still and certain voice, the one that has spoken to me several times in the past couple years, came through saying, “Because I want to.”
It’s the same voice that answered last year when I asked, “Would I be happy in my life just knowing that some of the songs I have written have already deeply affected people’s lives for the better? Isn’t that enough? Can I just do this quietly for myself now as time allows and inspiration strikes?” The answer that came back then, clear as a bell, was, “No. I need to be doing this for hundreds of people.”
It’s the same voice that came through a few weeks ago, not even in answer to a direct question, but after days of wondering what I was really doing, one morning shortly after waking, and several more times throughout the day that said, “I want to tour.”
As clear and certain as that calm inner voice is, the inner critic is quick to jump in with its chatter about how impossible, impractical and audacious those dreams are. The inner calm just smiles as if to say, “It’s going to happen, and I’m not worried about it, so you do what you need to do to figure it out. I’ll be here.”
I know that no matter what, I need the songs, I need to be able to perform them, and I need a recording so that they will have a longer lifespan than the moments I perform them on stage. All of that is what I am working on here as part of my Rubicon Year. If the questions are “Why?” and “How?”, I’m living them. I can’t see the answers but I know I’m right in the middle of them. It’s going to be SO interesting to look back on this year with a kind and compassionate eye that comes from experience. In the meantime I’m working on being gentle with myself and continuing to take action, even if only baby steps.
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heathermillermusic posted this
