Open Mic, Open Heart

If it weren't for community open stages, I'd probably still be singing alone in my house.

But I notice, sometimes, that open mics can bring out my "shadow" side.  (Something to do with the lighting in those venues?)

Carl Jung first conceived of the idea of the shadow: the part of yourself you hide from the rest of the world--and even yourself.  The shameful stuff we don't like to see.

When we start noticing our shadow, we can start working with it more consciously.  That self-awareness is bound to help our songs.

Many features of open mics can challenge the ego and bring the shadow "into the light", so to speak. Here are a few:

• Do we feel superior to this singer or inferior to that one?  Compassionately noticing our competitiveness can help us develop humility and self-confidence. 

• Are we impatient, waiting for our turn to play?  When we notice this, we can practice being grateful for the present moment. 

• No time to warm up or adjust the sound system?  People talking over your set?  A golden opportunity for intolerant perfectionists. 

• Your performance isn't as good as hoped?  Are you beating yourself up?  Notice that...and practice being kind to yourself. 

The funny thing is, those shadowy aspects of ourselves may be exactly the thing we hope not to show from the stage.

But even if (maybe especially if) our songs are all about peace and love, we've got to wrestle in the dark with the shadow (anxiety, intolerance).     

Only by opening up to every part of our experience--both the light and the dark--will we truly grow.  

Is Your Song Stable?

If your song were a person, would you consider it stable?

Or is it unbalanced...a little off-kilter...troubled somehow?

One characteristic of a strong song is its sense of balance and stability.  It's self-supporting.  For example, the ideas in the verses tend to support the main idea of the chorus...and every verse supports every other one.

The mood and feel of the song will likely be congruent with the song's message.  The melody will likely "match" the words.  Perhaps most important, the message of the song will be congruent with your own unique personhood: your true values and dreams.

Of course, no song or person is "stable" all the time.  We often feel out-of-whack for one reason or another and our songs often reflect that.  In fact, a song is a very appropriate place to express feelings of confusion and anxiety.

At the same time, simply in the act of writing a song, we draw ourselves a roadmap for emotional stability.

It takes effort to consciously choose the right word to complete a rhyme (for example), just as it takes effort to make conscious choices that support our physical, emotional and spiritual health.

But it's worth it!

When the process is complete, we have a strong, stable, true song.  A mirror of our best selves.

Question and Answer (Songwriting as Magic 8 Ball)

When I was growing up, a friend had a Magic 8 Ball that offered answers to the perplexing questions of adolescence. It was fun to consult the mysterious oracle and see what it said.  (I just looked it up on Wikipedia, and was reminded of some of the answers: "It is decidedly so" and "reply hazy, try again". I think I got that "hazy" one a lot.)  

I think that our songs act as oracles sometimes.

When we pick up our instrument during a time of questioning, interesting answers will come out.  

They may not be the ones we're expecting. They may not give us step-by-step instructions on how to proceed. But they can help us understand what our intuitive wisdom is trying to tell us. 

We need our "left-brain", logical sides to make decisions...but we also need our dreamy, "right-brain" sides.  Artistic activity kick-starts both sides at once.  This is great news for complicated lives like ours!  

I just realized that over the last few days, I've been using my songwriting as a kind of oracle.  Two different songs emerged in answer to the same question.

The interesting thing is, one song is "better" than the other.  It's much easier to remember and sing.  It's catchier...more likely to stick.  

Ask your songs to answer your questions.  Then listen to what they say.  

Why bother?

A talented songwriting friend, who has been having trouble writing, asked me why he should bother writing another song.  "Who cares?" he asked.

I knew what he meant.  Any song we write today will become part of an infinitely large collection of songs (poems, paintings...) that human beings have created since the beginning of time.  In a way, any song (no matter how "good") is insignificant.

What isn't insignificant, though, are the insights that arise when we write a meaningful song...and the way we grow when we engage in the creative process. 

When we make meaningful connections in music and words...when we share a song that moves another person...we affirm the recreating Whole that is sacred and holy. 

Sure, it takes effort. (My friend said, "But it's so hard!") But the rewards are immense.

Tonight a no-longer-blocked songwriter called me, ecstatic over the new recording she had just made, and the new possibilities that are emerging--all because she began to write from her soul.

That's why we do this.