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.
More Open Mics in June than all of 2010 (and maybe 2009 and 2008 combined!)
I’ve been fairly quiet on the blogging front lately. I mean, posting poems and quotes and such is good and all, I do want to remember those things, but I also need to write stuff out, to document, if only for myself. A lot has been going on. In a few days it will be 2 months that I’ve been in Austin. I know a lot more things. I’ve gotten more clear in new but important ways. There are still lots of questions I don’t know the answers to. There are new questions I don’t know the answers to either.
I’ve done 15 open mics or mini-sets in 25 days. If I went to one open mic a month back home, that’s more than I would do in a year, in less than a month! I know I’ve gotten better just from that, if only on a confidence level, even if nothing else about my performing has improved, though I’m sure it has at least a little. I think my voice is a little stronger just because I’ve been using it more often. My finger calluses are building up again.
I still fumble. I still get my foot tangled up in the cables or knock the mic with my guitar or my face. I still get frustrated when I don’t think I’m playing or singing loud enough. It’s hard to play in a room when people aren’t listening and are talking so loud I can’t really hear myself and I get distracted by that and lose my place in the song. I still get shy and keep my eyes on my hands while I play, and zip back to my guitar case as soon as possible after I play to put away my instrument.
And even though the shyness is still there, some days more than others, the butterflies are pretty much gone. I think after the second day really. Progress. Progress.
When it’s not my turn to play I listen. I clap and hoot and laugh at the appropriate times because I hear what the artists are saying. I pay attention. I’m not perfect at that either but I’m working at connection. I tell people they did a good job when I think they did, which is always, just for getting up there alone. And then people are amazing. ”No big deal, I’m just amazing and I’m quietly playing in a coffee shop” amazing.
I’ve written some new songs. New ones are brewing. I’m excited to hear what comes next. I think they are going to be important songs. For me anyway.
Been better at going to the gym and going to bed. Not perfect there either but better. And my attitude about both is better too. Coming more from a place of wanting to take care of myself, of feeling and remembering that it feels good to take care of myself than from a guilty place of feeling like I should.
Working on discipline and boundaries and asking for what I want and need. Trying to figure out what I actually need and what is just a shiny distraction. Balancing between treating myself kindly and just getting sh*% done. Allowing myself to do things badly rather than not get them done at all.
Noticing the hibiscus and the hummingbirds and painting my nails pink and wearing lots of skirts and really big earrings. Being fed, literally, all the time - people taking me out for coffee or soup, cafe servers giving me the extra tea sandwiches and cupcakes at close, singing for my supper without even knowing that was part of the deal. Friends loaning me their cars, giving me rides. Floating in the pool at night and seeing the Big Dipper. Doing great for a few days and then falling down and doing my best to get up as quick as I can and get back on the horse.
This is just two months. What’ll happen in the next two?
