Yesterday I wrote a new song, during (and in response to) a day when I felt tired and slightly depressed. By the time the first-draft stage was complete (the essential structure and melody in place, the chorus and most of the verses written, fine-tuning to come) it was the end of the day and I was tired.
Last night, when I went out to play, I told a songwriter friend about my new song. I added casually "but I think it might be crappy".
My friend told me to shape up. He reminded me how damaging it can be to say negative things about myself or my work, especially at the fragile early stage. He said it's not for me to judge, and that for my own sake and the well-being of those around me, I needed to stay open and positive.
The truth was, at that moment I had no idea whether the song was "good" or not. And yet, I felt compelled to to make a pronouncement. I have a tendency to judge. Is it "good" or "bad"..."right" or "wrong"..."this" kind of song or "that" one?
My friend reminded me that judging isn't always necessary.
Yesterday afternoon, I felt tired and over-saturated. My state-of-mind coloured my perception of my work.
This morning, I played the song again...and loved it.
Friday, October 28, 2011
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Follow that song!
Recently I've come to the irritating recognition that my best songs are "better" than me.
They tend to affirm a higher calling or value (faith, love, forgiveness, generosity, hope...) that I want to live up to, but can't all the time.
A good song, though, lives up to a higher calling quite nicely. It expresses its main idea consistently and clearly, and doesn't mess up. Songs say something like "I believe in you" and leave out the real-life verse that goes, "even though I didn't act like that yesterday morning at breakfast".
Both parts of life's song are true...both the "good" and admirable part and the "ugh, I don't want anybody to know that" part.
Sometimes a little of that embarrassing stuff finds its way into a song and gives it depth and authenticity. Other times, the ungraceful, messy and unfinished parts are for our ears only. (And I think that's a good thing. The whole extended play version.)
When a song lives up to our highest callings, reflecting our deepest values in a clear and resonant way, we must continue to sing it--both for others and in our hearts--especially at the times when we lose confidence in ourselves. When we forget what we know.
In those confusing times, we can let our best songs lead us. They know the way.
They tend to affirm a higher calling or value (faith, love, forgiveness, generosity, hope...) that I want to live up to, but can't all the time.
A good song, though, lives up to a higher calling quite nicely. It expresses its main idea consistently and clearly, and doesn't mess up. Songs say something like "I believe in you" and leave out the real-life verse that goes, "even though I didn't act like that yesterday morning at breakfast".
Both parts of life's song are true...both the "good" and admirable part and the "ugh, I don't want anybody to know that" part.
Sometimes a little of that embarrassing stuff finds its way into a song and gives it depth and authenticity. Other times, the ungraceful, messy and unfinished parts are for our ears only. (And I think that's a good thing. The whole extended play version.)
When a song lives up to our highest callings, reflecting our deepest values in a clear and resonant way, we must continue to sing it--both for others and in our hearts--especially at the times when we lose confidence in ourselves. When we forget what we know.
In those confusing times, we can let our best songs lead us. They know the way.
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