If you were to stand on the edge of a roof or cliff or balcony, it’s probably not the one time you’re going to randomly lose your balance and fall off and die.
Going to the edge is just scary and it makes you think things that aren’t true.
The metaphor holds up for all of us who are pushing into new and interesting things.
When a new exhibit is getting installed at the Louvre it doesn’t matter how good it is, or how well it’s set up, or the lighting, or the placement, how clean the area is or the color of the wood floor in front of it…it’s not going to get more attention than the Mona Lisa.
So if it’s attention you’re looking for, the Louvre might not be a great place for your next painting…no one is going there hoping to see your work.
»» This is partly why it can be so hard to be the opening act for that big artist you’ve always hoped to play with.
The music will always be (and summon) the best part.
The feeling you get when you play it and the feeling you get when you listen to it. Those are the gifts of music.
The vowels and consonants strung together with that tone of voice over the top of those chords and rhythm, put it all together and the whole room changes. It’s a mystery and yet we know exactly what it is.
Any pursuit beyond that is a different pursuit all together (and certainly a worthy one)…but the gift, the spirit, the magic, the other-worldliness?…it will always be the music.
Getting paid on time
When the people in the front row know the words
Getting paid the agreed upon amount
A line waiting to get into the show
Adequate, clean transportation
Gear
Every music documentary ever made
Hearing their song out in public
Getting a text from someone who is hearing your song out in public
Not having RF problems with wireless
Specific compliments on a song
Nice hotel lobbies
Nice hotel rooms
Managers who make phone calls (rather than only receiving phone calls)
An obnoxiously long “we want more” chant before the encore
Quality food ready and waiting at every stop
Leaving for a tour
Coming home from a tour
»» Send me additions to this list and I’ll do a follow up sometime
No one cries at the beginning. Why would they? There’s yet to be any reference points, personal connection or emotional landscape.
But the end? That’s when everyone cries.
Because that’s when we’re suppose to cry. That’s when there’s been enough character development and connection to where we are emotionally invested, completely immersed and allow ourselves to be whisked away into a different world and a different set of circumstances.
We know it’s not real but we cry like it is.
We know the movie or book or podcast isn’t happening to us right now but we are willing to suspend reality and adopt a posture that puts us closer to the middle of the story for the sake of feeling connected.
Storytelling has an arc. Those arcs come from (in part) the expectations we have as humans based on our own relational experiences…and the experiences going back generations.
It’s a process…
We meet someone or a group or a situation or a problem…we get to know it…we become connected….and that connection is the currency by which the doors open for deeper experiences.
How long does it take before you get tired?
What do you do with the tired?
How quickly do you recover?
And what does it take for the answers to get better?
»» As for the space between when you’re recovering and when you want to dive back in…the shorter the gap the more likely it is you will keep going.