The Halfway Point

Today I marked the six-month anniversary of my first busking year by playing at Pape Station.

I only had an hour to spare this morning, but I knew it would be enough. In an hour I can play up to twenty songs, which is the length of a long set in a regular paid performance. Even one song, by itself, is better than none.

I thought of the man's question at Woodbine yesterday: "Is this worth your while?" I realize that my answer has always been yes, even when donations are slow and I'm feeling discouraged. Even when the songs don't seem to be reaching anyone else, they're reaching me...keeping me connected to the world and to my spirit. And I am sure that the music (the music of all the volunteer subway players) changes the city in ways we don't completely understand.

But let's be honest. It's just plain hard. Every time I play in the subway, I experience painful moments (sometimes stretching into half-hours) of doubt and discouragement, when I feel marginalized, ridiculous, a failure. There are many times when I consider turning around and heading back home so as to avoid embarrassment.

I often find myself asking "What am I doing here?".

That seems to be the central question.

When I ask it one way, I'm expressing a deep sense of frustration. I feel as though I don't know where to turn or what purpose I'm serving. I'm tired and self-pitying. I'm afraid that I've made foolish choices with my life and have landed in the wrong place.

But when I ask it another way, as a spiritual question or prayer, it's a question of deeper purpose: What can I do to make the most of this situation, this place, this song, this life, this moment?

When I'm singing on the subway I ask that question all the time. I see it from both perspectives, like two sides of a coin.

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Here's a list of the most important things I've observed, in six months of subway busking.

Many people are kind and generous.

Most people are preoccupied and distracted.

Many people appear sad.

Most adults tune out their surroundings
...but children tune in to everything.

Children freely express interest and delight
...while adults rarely do.
(Children find this confusing.)

People seem happier in light places.

People enjoy giving.

People like to hear "thank you".
People like to say "thanks".

All people are fascinating.
All people are beautiful.

We look more alike than we realize.

We can rely on serendipity.

We are all connected.

Every contribution means something.

It all adds up.