San Diego Butterflies

Even though I was extremely tired, not to mention rushed... I found myself driving back down to San Diego for the 5th time in the last week. The previous 4 trips resulting in wonderful stories about men, money, random evening adventures, burnt hair, and unwanted reminders that I was pushing my boundary limits a little too far. I had been to the House Of Blues before, well once, and was politely asked to leave. So my expectation was quite skewed, but I was excited to spend some time with my cousin. We had arranged to go downtown to see one of our newest country favorites, and knowing that he was an amazing performer I was thrilled to know that my money was being well spent, and I was in good company.

For a while now I have been trying to figure out what the heck I am doing. Whether that means on a daily basis, like why am I taking the same road everyday home, or more importantly what am I doing with my life? Why do I need to know what I'm doing? And why do I feel like I need to answer that? No clue. But what I do know is that nothing, and I mean nothing... happens without reason. Slowly things have just been falling into place, or better yet should I say falling out of place which is making me realize how much I have been looking for that answer to my 6 million dollar question.

I was at a work event a couple weeks back in Las Vegas and I vividly remember a seminar that I was listening to about being 'transparent' and embracing 'authenticity' in your life. The man running the seminar addressed the audience asking people if they would exercise their transparency and announce to the room what they were passionate about, what they wanted to do, 'what they were doing with their lives'. A couple of brave souls stood up and jabbered off some ridiculous language like, "I want to cure AIDS", "I want to end world hunger", "I want to change our government"... and so on and so forth. I'm rolling my eyes at this point thinking there is no way these people honestly are being transparent, if they really were, would they have jumped at the opportunity to share? Or maybe they were, and I was just to afraid to admit that maybe my passion wasn't as BIG or as admired as theirs. One woman stood up and began trying to utter words, while the room stood in silence the man at the front asked for the audience to help her out with words of encouragement. A woman named Julie stood up, I knew she was Julie because after she said something I made a point to find out who she was and tell her how much of an impact her statement had on me. Julie looked over at the woman and said "What makes your heart flutter, what gives you butterflies?" The woman smiled up at all of us with tears streaming down her face and said, "Jesus" and right there we could all see that she was being completely and absolutely transparent. So honest and so passionate about her faith that she was frozen in her emotion. But it wasn't just the Jesus comment that did it for me. It was Julie. I have never really looked at my passion as something that was a physical feeling, it was more of an understanding that I was doing what I wanted to do.

The concert was incredible, every strum of the guitar, and stammer on the piano keys adding a little more sunshine into my falling out of place, darkened past couple weeks. The hands of devoted fans and lovers of music raised into the lights beams, and the glow of all the cellphones making a sea of the stage. Every falsetto ad lib, and dramatic pause was making me fall deeper and deeper into elation. The elation that was making my heart sing and flutter, and for a second I felt butterflies. THAT is when I realized my passion and my transparency is in my music. Because if I was really honest with myself, I would admit that all I want to do is write music that inspires people, moves people, heals people. My insides were screaming with desire. Desire to be up on that stage, and desire to be back at home in front of my piano writing like a crazy person because I've been collecting index cards, napkins, and old receipts with song lyrics on them for months. Desire to be in that person who could say, "I never thought this would happen to me".

It was THEN I realized Julie was right, sharing my passion didn't need to be this elaborate gesture or statement to impress upon people my responsibility to the world. It could just. be. music. It could just be those beautiful moments in the presence of sound. So why do I find myself not doing that every day, all. day. long? Am I afraid to admit it in front of people, would I have been able to stand in front of that audience in Vegas and say I want to be a songwriter? Part of me wishes I had told Julie how much the simplest sentence had brought clarity to me. And part of me wishes that after the concert I had told my cousin, someday I would be up on that stage. Glowing with passion, knowing exactly what I was doing with my life.