Tonight marks the first night of five gigs I will be playing in April at The Casbah, a cozy bar in Hamilton Ontario, that houses creaky wood floors and a rich history of great music. It is an ideal gathering space for both musicians and listeners alike.
After 30 years of playing my songs on a stage in front of zero-? amount of people, I can hear the (very) familiar thread of thoughts flowing through the background of my mind as I spend the day leading up to tonight puttering around doing what I like to do to prepare.
This preparation always includes a bath. An epic hour-long soak with lavender and relaxing music really helps to set the space for me to visualize my intentions for the performance. I also attempt to construct a set list, though I much prefer to just fly by the seat of my pants and play whatever song seems appropriate in the moment. However, this month I’m being accompanied by a violin/slide guitarist, so for his sake I’m reining in my haphazard ways to suit his needs.
If there’s one good thing about aging, it’s the accumulation of experience that gifts us invaluable wisdom impossible to earn in any way other than living through space and time. There are no short-cuts to gaining certain skills or knowledge. In my case, I’ve learned that no matter how “unready” or “not good enough” the voice of resistance in my head wants to tell me I am, I’ve played enough shows to overrule it with the knowing that nothing ever goes as badly as it says it will. In fact, 100% of the time, I come home, put down my guitar, pet my cat, and sink into a sigh of satisfaction that I yet again went out into the world and did what I’m here to do.
I did what I LOVE to do. And I had FUN.
And it didn’t even matter that I made mistakes like miss a word or a chord.
It especially didn’t matter if my feelings leading up to the show were uncomfortable.
All that mattered in the end was that I showed up to do what I said I would do. And did my very best with where I am NOW. I’ve come to the conclusion that I will never feel ‘ready enough’ because there is always more growing to do.
I can choose to accept and embrace who I am in this moment, and offer the gifts I have in the hopes that when I enjoy the art I’m making, perhaps others will, too.
Voice of Resistance
The voice of resistance is so strong and so ubiquitous to the human experience that Steven Pressfield wrote this wonderful book about how it sneakily shows up to sabotage our efforts at growth and to keep us playing small. It can wear many different disguises so that you never catch onto it. It can show up as the thought “I don’t feel like doing that”, or “I’m tired” or “I’ll do it tomorrow”.
Perfectionism, rationalization, and procrastination are just some of the prohibitive ways resistance allows us to get in our own way. The antidote is to learn to value and prioritize what we want over what we already have. Growth over stagnancy. Self-encouragement over self-doubt. Honouring commitments and integrity over flaking out or cancelling. Do you want to go in circles or spiral ever outward?
I have a personal example to share with you of my most recent success at overcoming the old familiar voice of resistance as it tried to hook me into obeying it.
As some of you may know, I have made a commitment to live-stream every Friday on my YouTube channel at 7 pm.
Two weeks ago, I woke up incredibly grumpy and pretty much spent the whole day there, feeling blah. By the time 5 pm rolled around I still had not posted a link on Substack for the stream that night because I was giving myself an out. I was not in the mood for playing guitar let alone for entertaining other people. But despite my grumpiness, I was aware that I was struggling with the idea of flailing out on my commitment. The grown-up woman in me has become far less comfortable with the choices the younger me used to be able to live with by rationalizing and making excuses, and by denying and discounting that it mattered whether or not I showed up to play.
Drawing from the wisdom I gained from Pressfield’s book, I silenced the voice in my head by taking action. I got myself up to my studio, sat at my keyboard, and at 7:15 (late, but not never) I pushed the LIVE button and began to play.
Despite how I was feeling.
And do you know what?
It was the best stream yet. Not only did the most amount of people show up for it, but it was also deeply gratifying because my grumpies transformed into pure joy from soaking in the medicine of music. At the thrill of doing what I love.
At growing up and past the old habits of sabotage.
The rewards on the other side of taking action, of keeping your word, commitment, and integrity in tact, for honouring the gifts you’ve been given by freely giving them, by doing the work regardless of how your temporary emotions are flowing….are endless, are bountiful, are magical, and are always awaiting your arrival.
live stream
This is the stream from that night that I grew a little more into who I want to be.
Enjoy….
Thank you for popping by and reading my post!
I appreciate you so much.
be great,
love Jacqueline
I just saw something recently about how pushing past mental resistance to do things one does not want to do—hard things, scary things, annoying things—grows new neural pathways.
Good lesson for all of us—thanks, JR!
I love this and your wisdom here. Thank you for your leadership and courage to talk about the true things. Now that I know it's an every Fri thing I can show up more. I hope your performance is well received and appreciated on your gig nights. I wish you were in FL as I'd have to leave the house so that I could support someone who is living values I value. I hope the venue is packed to the rafters! 🔥❤️🙏