You Are Doing Great

Recently, I rewatched the Pixar movie, Soul. I’ve always loved this movie for a couple of reasons:

1. The main character’s affinity for music.

2. The way the writers explained life.

Joe, the main character, always felt like his purpose was to be a professional jazz pianist. I always felt like my purpose was to be a professional songwriter and performer. I was convinced that music was my spark, much like Joe. And when he got the opportunity to play with Dorothea Williams, his biggest jazz idol, he felt like his life was just beginning.

I remember feeling that way when I debuted with Chicago Cabaret Professionals in Passing the Torch. Not only did I get to sing professionally in Chicago, but I got to sing a song by Stephen Sondheim, my biggest influence in composing and songwriting. The performance was 5 months after he passed, so I was honored to pay a tribute to him in a professional setting.

Since then, I’ve landed numerous gigs and I was riding the high that Joe felt after his first concert with Dorothea Williams. When Joe asked what’s next, Dorothea said, “We come back tomorrow night and do it all again.” It was clear that Joe was expecting something bigger than what he got. He made it known that he thought he’d feel differently after his long-awaited dream came true. Instead, it was just a regular night where he played a gig, went home, and continued with his life the next day.

I often felt this way too after all my performances. It was a quiet, lonely feeling in the Uber, followed by a quiet night alone in my apartment. Funny enough, in the Ed Sheeran documentary, The Sum of It All, Ed also said he felt this way after his big shows, then he would go back to his dressing room and it would be just him and the air conditioner.

There’s also the element of feeling like you need to be important for someone to care or for your life to mean something. Joe mistakenly assumed that a soul’s purpose and spark are the same thing. For him, music was his reason for living. And if he didn’t get to play for his idol, he said, “I’m just afraid that if I died today, my life will have amounted to nothing.”

Sometimes, I feel similar to that. I feel like if I’m not writing songs with a deep message like Kendrick Lamar, or an intriguing story behind it like Ed Sheeran, then no one will care. The fear of momentum slowing down and people forgetting about you can grow quicker than people realize. And I think so many of us feel that too, like we need to have some grandiose purpose for our lives to mean something.

But the reality is that’s NOT true! For our lives to mean something, we have to find those little things that mean something to our lives. That’s what the spark is. It’s the reason to look forward to another day; the reason to appreciate what you have.

I find my spark in afternoon boat rides on the lake with family, late night bonfires or restaurant trips with friends, celebrating weddings, and my grandma’s breakfasts whenever I go to visit her. For Joe’s friend, 22, it’s taking a bite of New York style pizza for the first time, watching the little propellers fall from the trees, eating a lollipop from the local barbershop, and taking time to learn about other people.

Joe eventually finds his spark when he takes in a breath of fresh air and vows to live in the moment instead of chasing the next greatest thing. He rediscovers his passion in teaching, showing his students why jazz music lights a fire in his soul. He may not be the most famous pianist in the world, but he inspires his students and pushes them to keep going. And that’s enough for him.

As I write this, I realize I don’t need worldwide fame to feel like I’ve reached success in life. I’ve had an incredible run thus far, and it’s only going to keep going! I got to perform my original songs in different venues in Chicago and I got to perform musical theatre in New York. Not only that, but as a teacher, I’ve been so fortunate to inspire all of my students and make immense progress with them. And that’s more than enough for me.

With my songwriting, I’ll practice making songs that are more fun with no pressure to prove a point. Even Ed and Kendrick make fun songs to dance to. Same with Hozier and Lewis Capaldi. I’ve come to understand that the reason their music is so great is because of their honesty. They don’t pretend. They write what’s true to them, whether it’s fun or deep. That’s what made some of my best songs so successful. I believed in what I was writing about and I didn’t feel any kind of pressure to do or be anything. I just made good music. So I’m going to keep making good music.

The takeaway here is this: whatever you have going on in your lives, just know that you’re doing great and you are exactly where you’re supposed to be. You are loved. You are resilient. You’ve already made a huge impact, and I know you’ll continue to do so. Celebrate your wins, big or small. Don’t take what’s in front of you for granted.

Until the next post, I love you all. :)