Seattle was bombed last night, in my dream. I was hiding in a boat with friends (who kept serving me chocolate truffles) as we watched the old school planes from Europe fly through our sky. Dark dots fell through the air and a part of our home went up in smoke. I kept trying to call my first husband but my eyesight was too blurry to read the names in my phone. My second husband insisted with a constantly nodding head that he really wanted to have kids now and then he announced that he was about to leave England on a business trip #worst-possible-time. A dream too real. I stood in the shower, hot water washing my dream away.
Now I’m awake and all I can think about is my new dream; my art studio, my secret society of creative women, and my record label. More to come on this later perhaps as my dreams ebb and flow.
How are you dreams changing? Are your nighttime dreams untangling your subconscious worries and wishes? Are your daytime dreams sparking joy in your eyes?
Your dreams can change when you let yourself change. If you hold strictly to one dream, you may be locking yourself into one version of yourself.
I was deadest on performing at The Gorge Amphitheater because singing on that stage meant I had ”made it”, I was performing at my favorite venue, the most beautiful venue I’ve ever seen, the stage where I’ve seen my heroes perform, the stage where I first saw myself, a ghost of my future self, the possibility of myself as the musician I would one day become. It seemed magical, mysterious and impossible. It was the big dream. The dream that, if accomplished, proved that I was good enough, that big dreams really can come true, that a girl can look up to a stage and after some hard work, determination, and a few years, that girl can walk onto that stage and look out at the audience and see a young girl just like herself and say, you can too.
For me, the Gorge was a dream that seeped into my imagination and gradually took over my life until it became an affliction. Inspired and excited at first, I pushed myself to morph into new versions of myself; exploring who I must become to be the woman who performs on that stage. Massive transformation would need to take place between the conception and the actualization of this dream. Would I even recognize myself at the end of this journey? My solid commitment carried me through trying times, hours of monotonous instrument practice and sickening nerves before my first performances. It enlivened my speech and I became a sparkling motivational energy in my friend group. Everyone was excited to cheer me on. I declared from every roof top what my dream was and that it was going to happen. Just watch me. I even spent one summer running around music festivals asking every new person I met, “Do you have a dream?” and then proceeded to encourage them to keep dreaming, letting them know about my own dream and bumping fists in dream solidarity. I cringe slightly at this memory. The more I dreamed, the more my feet left the ground and I lost touch with reality. I lived in a fantasy world with magical creatures, imaginary friends, weaving my life events into a narrative plot, mild hallucinations keeping me company everyday and complete social awkwardness and isolation from anything logical and earthly.
In the end, I was bedeviled. Tormented by the chains I had buckled around myself. I had sewn too much meaning and identity into my dream. I had lost flexibility and freedom to evolve and let go. This all came to an end when my health, physical and mental, screamed at me through back pain, wrinkles, weight-gain, tears, screaming, anxiety, bitchiness, hormone imbalances, nightmares, clinginess, depression. I had been wiping myself like a mean horse jockey. Who gives a shit if I achieve my goal only to curl up in a ball the evening after my big show, sobbing from loneliness and ill health? I’m not walking into any dream with that self-flagellating attitude. No more.
I have deep intimate conversations with musicians on the Wilde Musicians Podcast and sometimes I feel their urgency, anxiety, self-inflicted pressure, to “make it”, to keep up, to prove themselves, to inspire others, to achieve greatness. We all want to change the world. This quote is always worth repeating:
“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”
― Howard Thurman
“Most of the time we aim too low. We walk in shoes too small for us. We spend out days shooting for a little burst of approval or some small career victory. But there’s a joyful way of being that’s not just a little bit better than the way we are currently living; it’s a quantum leap better. It’s as if we’re all competing to get a little closer to a sunlamp. If we get up and live a different way, we can bathe in real sunshine. When I meet people leading lives of deep commitment, this fact hits me: Joy is real.”
- David Brookes, The Second Mountain (xxiii)
I sit across the table from musicians who inspire me. They want to prove they’re good enough, inspire kids to follow their dreams, help other people fell less alone. Their dreams are huge, the ambition and drive is even bigger, and a stressful pressure, a ticking clock, is chasing them, snapping at their heels. Something has these beautiful artists rushing, anxious, feeling small, wondering when they’ll “make it”.
I tell them that I haven’t been on social media in almost a month. I tell them that I’ve been locked away in my cave making new songs. I tell them that I’m writing songs for a very specific audience (women who want to express themselves freely). My clarity to step away from the main stream current, feels peaceful, refreshing, promising. At least that’s what it looks like when I’m talking and I see their faces lighten and soften.
Being on stage is being a leader. Are you leading people within the social norms or are you leading them where you want to go? I was trying so hard to be a leader on social media until one day my business coach suggested I get off social media if I’m not enjoying it. “For years you’ve been struggling to make it work. Maybe you can just accept the fact it’s not working for you. It’s not for you. Get off line and get creative. Build your business, serve your clients and community in person, directly, one to one. Be a leader by leading people off the social media and back into a more personal way of connecting. Lead a new movement.”
I shared this with the Portland women’s panel and the room softened. Their faces looked lighter and intrigued. We’re all hungry for someone to give us permission to rest, to do it our own way and make our own rules.