I Follow My Bliss Down Dark Alleys and Creepy Stairwells

I’m reading yet another self-improvement book. As long as they keep writing ‘em, I’ll keep reading ‘em! Universal truth is universal truth so the messages don’t vary much; I just like having different ways of digesting the information. Some writers serve it up in flowery language, like getting your nutrients from a beautifully presented spinach salad on lovely china.

Some writers are the literary equivalent of Flintstones vitamins. I know that I have to absorb these truths one way or another; why not have them in tart little Wilma-shaped confections?

I’ve heard the “follow your bliss” thing before, obviously. I’ve always found it to be an oversimplification, like suggesting that you eat food that’s delicious. No kidding? Will I like delicious food better than crappy-tasting food? Many thanks for the heads-up there.

The idea of following my bliss is really ringing loud in my soul right now though because I’ve tried not following it. I thought I was being smart and practical.

And also, so many times that I have followed it I’ve ended up broke, frustrated, or in cliched show biz scenarios, such as when I was propositioned by a mid-level record executive who thought that offering me the “opportunity” to have secret sex with him once a week in exchange for recording some demos at the label’s expense made him a real prince of a guy.

(I passed up this golden opportunity in favor of paying for my own recordings and we’re back to the “broke and frustrated” portion of my bliss-following adventures.)

Now I understand that ”follow your bliss” is not the dumb-dumb advice I once thought it was. It really means, follow your bliss, even when you’re not sure why, even when you have no idea where it’s taking you, even when you feel like you should have arrived wherever you were going a long time ago.

I used to think it was something like, “Follow your bliss! It’ll be blissful!”

But really, it’s more like, “Follow your bliss! If you’re strong enough!”

Are you?

The Greatest Singer of All

Like most people, I can’t help but look for a way to connect personally with an event that has an impact on popular culture. And for a vocalist like me, Whitney Houston is not just a part of popular culture but was the absolute standard of vocal perfection.

The handful of times I’ve been enlisted to sing the national anthem in public, I’ve borrowed heavily from Whitney’s incomparable rendition, because her phrasing and huge, shimmering voice managed to make that song new again.

When I was starting out as a singer, I used to do these awful cabaret shows, produced by a husband and wife who raked in a ridiculous amount of money by getting their acts to sell tickets to each show for an absurdly high price.

I generally sold my tickets to my extended family, who in spite of having been subjected to my unsolicited living room performances for years, were still kind enough to shell out fifteen bucks to hear me sing pop songs to a backing track in a midtown restaurant/bar.

Once, I was on the same bill as a male singer named Russ. He was a white boy from Akron, Ohio who aspired to be the next Bobby Brown. Russ heard me sing at an open mike one night before our show and he asked me to do a duet with him.

I was to sing the Whitney Houston part in a charming little number called “Something in Common.” I vividly recall having to sing the line “I’m the kind of girl who understands my man,” and being really embarrassed about it. But it was fun pretending to be Whitney, though of course there could only ever be one of her.

What a sad day for music.

The Flip Side of Sadness

In a particularly dark mood the other day, I came up with the idea that every moment of joy is really just a temporary interruption of the sadness of which life is really comprised. I have just enough distance from that dreary moment to acknowledge that really, ALL moments are interruptions of other moments and life really only consists of a series of moments.

They may or may not add up to anything.

Every coin has two sides but that doesn’t mean that one is happy and the other sad. Really, one is heads and the other is tails. The only reason you’d feel sad about one or the other is if the coin landed on the side you didn’t call, which is just another way of saying that if you don’t attach yourself to an outcome, you’ll probably be a lot less unhappy.

I think I’m sad so much of the time because I have definite expectations of myself and of life and of the people I care about and every time an expectation goes unmet, I feel betrayed, especially when I’m the one who’s failed to live up to one of my own expectations.

I don’t know if I can let go of my expectations of myself but I can see I’m not doing anyone any favors by silently hoping they’ll go left and then being angry and disappointed when they go right.

Maybe all I can do is let go. I understand the importance of letting go as it relates to love; I’m just frustrated because it seems like that’s the one loving act with which I’ve had way too much practice.

My Voice Needs A Personal Trainer

I was working on some ideas with a composer the other day and as I opened my mouth to sing, I realized it had been weeks since I’d sung. It’s been months since I actually vocalized and exercised my voice in a meaningful way and that’s not okay. I have tons of excuses, one of which is that I can’t really sing loudly in my apartment because… people might hear.

My voice is what sets me apart from a lot of the other women fronting pop bands in LA. I need to take better care of it, show it the proper respect. What’s a commitment I can make right now that won’t overwhelm me and doom me to failure (like that time I vowed to vocalize every single day for two hours per day, which lasted about four days)?

How about… I do about fifteen minutes of vocal exercises on my days off and on the one day a week that I don’t have to be at work until 12. That’s not too crazy.

What gift do you have that you’ve been taking for granted? Do you have a treasure that you’ve been thoughtlessly tossing into a corner instead of polishing it and showing it the proper appreciation?

The Next Show

We’re booked for March 12th. Now that I’m in a new work setting for my day job and am making friends with new people, I have a fresh wave of optimism about getting a good draw. This feels like an awesome beginning somehow.

I had a tough exchange with someone who had been a pivotal member of my band. I’d felt him pulling away for awhile, his enthusiasm for my project waning as his other commitments, along with his own passion projects, began occupying his time. I finally decided to make it official and set him free. While that was what he wanted, he took it the way one does when the person you were about to dump breaks up with you first.

I probably would have been the same way. But after a couple of petulant emails back and forth, I think we’re okay. We’re still friends and I think we each want the best for each other, musically and otherwise. Now I have to round out the new lineup in time for the next show.

In so many ways, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. Not that I’ve arrived, but that I’m on the right path. There’s nothing worse than that feeling of going in the wrong direction, on the wrong freeway, and not seeing another exit for miles and miles. My life felt like that for so long and it was so frustrating and lonely.

Of course, it’s always challenging to remember that there ISN’T a destination at all. At the same time, it’s fine to want your vehicle to be comfortable and for the signs to be readable on this unending journey. Work still isn’t easy but more importantly, it still isn’t boring. I had a great day this week that gave me the feeling that I wasn’t on the wrong freeway. I know that doesn’t sound like much, but for me that’s huge.

 

The Escape from Me That Wasn’t

Yesterday I had one of those “breakdowns precede breakthroughs” days. I had a great conversation with a new co-worker who listened patiently as I figured out that the very thing that has made me want to give up my musical aspirations over and over again is inescapable, even in my seemingly unrelated new career path.

Selling myself has always been a challenge, not because I don’t believe in what I’m offering but because I don’t know how to approach someone who doesn’t already agree with me about how awesome I am/my music is. My inclination is to just let people continue living their lives without me getting in their faces and pushing my product on them.

Now I’m working in sales and guess what? Even though the product is no longer me, I’m having the same exact experience. This is fabulous because the universe has made my conquering this fear, this lack of confidence, an inevitable victory for me. I’ll do it for sure! I’m facing my fears every day and if I can do it here, I can certainly venture back out into the big, bad music scene and do it there.

Another thing I’ve been fighting for months is the reality of my financial situation. There’s no getting around the fact that  I have to move. As much as I love the location of my cute little apartment, as much as I love its very cuteness, I can’t afford it. I’ve been saying this for months and digging myself deeper into debt, despair and shame. It doesn’t feel good to be an intelligent, able-bodied person in her thirties who somehow has not figured out the simple arithmetic that has landed me in this jam.

Now I have to give notice to my landlords. Once I do that, the deed is as good as done. There’s no turning back and I know it’s the right thing to do. It’s just an enormous pain in the ass.

How I Would Like to Look Back on 2012

This will have been the year I took chances like never before. Fear will be something I push through, like a subway turnstyle. It’s there and I have to acknowledge it but it’s not keeping me from catching my train. 

2012 will be the dividing line between the Raquel who has potential and the Raquel who reaches for everything she wants, falls on her ass a lot and is just as often rewarded hugely for her efforts.

I am going to learn how to RECEIVE my blessings this year. Last year I learned how to ask for them but it’s one thing to ask, it’s another to believe you’ll actually get what you ask for, and it’s yet another to be ready to answer the door when that bell rings and everything you’ve ever wanted is waiting for you on your front stoop.