Healing Our Creative Voice
2011 outdoor winery performance, I forget where...
It’s been an emotionally heavy week.
I agreed to play a free gig for a Christian Women’s group earlier this week, and then had my performance cut short while I was on stage and it triggered a slew of hangups I had about “performance.” I left the venue feeling devalued, like my voice had no worth or importance, like sharing my gift was a mistake.... All intense emotions that logically I knew were a bit out of proportion to what actually happened (having to make adjustments to a regimented schedule when prior acts went overtime).
Because I’ve been in season of healing, I spent some time journaling and being introspective to where those thoughts traced back to (because I’ve learned that everything in our life — relationships, events, situations — is connected to and designed to reveal the core of who we are).
As a kid, I was (basically) my family’s pet canary. When I really started getting good, musically, my grandma would often invite me over to play the piano for any company they had over. She was proud of her little pianist (and it also made her look good). Her husband — my step-grandfather, who WAS for all intents and purposes, “Granddad” — who would often bully me and call me names, tolerated my presence, and was not above throwing me out of the house when he deemed my music an interruption to his adult conversations. When I really started to get good on the piano, he would invite me over to play, and then proceed to dictate WHAT I could play, how long I could play, and would make snide comments about the type of music I could play. To the guests. And then proceed to tell me to scram when my time was up. He mocked the practicing I would do (my mom didn’t have a piano, grandma’s house was the only place to practice outside of school), mocked the instruments I played when I diverged into saxophone, guitar, and violin, mocked every aspect of my passion for music at every opportunity...
College Jazz Band, 2004
When I was around 14, I had been given a guitar for the first time for Christmas, and just as I was getting interested in it, grandpa threw a fit because HE (supposedly) wanted to learn and I was “hogging” the instrument he’d partly paid for. (I found out later, he never paid a cent for that damn guitar, grandma had traded HER art and portrait skills to purchase it.) Long story short, I was forced to share MY INSTRUMENT to keep the bully happy. And he would thrash and beat on it and pretend he was playing but never actually sit down to learn, and I would have to sneak over to reclaim it when he was not paying attention to actually learn it. (Sometimes he’d forget I’d have it for months at a time, and that was a bonus.)
I’ve never forgotten that. To this day I still do not like to loan or lend my instruments. Being given instruments as gifts also still makes me uncomfortable (there’s a few exceptions).
And my grandmother would tell me all the time how much he loved my music and was proud of me. He would sit there and brag to anyone sitting next to him at my concerts that I was “his granddaughter!” and just when I thought I’d won, when I thought I finally got through to him, he’d go back to mocking my love the very next day. Grandma couldn’t see the jealousy, or maybe didn’t want to see the jealousy, but I sure can in hindsight.
Photo from a 2014 Renaissance bardic performance at Tumbleweed Folk Festival, Richland WA
I say all this because if you’re in a similar situation — STICK IT OUT! Stick to your guns! You deserve to have passion, you deserve to have a hobby, you deserve to have your creative fires burning bright! You deserve to have a voice! Everyone deserves that place where they shine. 💕 You go out there and claim it! Suss out where your triggers are, (like me, figuring out WHY that gig inspired such STRONG emotions!) beat them back with a club if you have to and unlock that door into that place where you feel total joy. Bullies don’t last. My grandma died in 2015 God rest her soul, and I have had no contact with granddad since. I worry about him, sometimes, because he was family, but he has no more shit to say about my life or my music.
I learned to play guitar, and I picked up mandolin and ukulele since then. I now play 14 different instruments. I won in the end. 👍🏻
You will win, too. ❤️
14 instruments. OMG that is awesome! I'd say you won big time.
I don't have musical talent but I love animals.
I've done some sort of rescue work my whole life.
They use to call me Ellie May.
Only my father seemed proud of my gift.
Until a couple years ago people would bring me sick animals and I'd fix em up and send them home. It always hurt my feelings when they said they couldn't afford the care but would be out shopping, buying new clothes and cars and crap.
I haven't bought brand new clothes in 30 years except shoes and underwear. Lol
When I moved I didn't tell people anything about my love of animals. I wanted a break.
I have a sick chicken in the hay shed right now. Her owner is in the hospital.
It's just who we are. We can't change it. I do it for me and the animals. I don't think about their owners anymore and I sure don't care if I'm known as the crazy critter lady. Could be called worse. Lol
You are so strong and your talent very real. Bless the people who want to be blessed and let the rest answer for themselves.
I think there is something very worthy and beautiful about being able to fix up the sick and hurting. Animals are God’s creatures, too, and just as worthy of healing as we are. 💕
There is a LOT of truth to being who we are.... any time I’ve tried to change myself, change who I am, I have ended up suffering for it in some form or another. For whatever reason, God wants a musician. And I’d say God wants you to be a healer. It’s a big job taking care of His messengers (because I believe animals often do His bidding in our lives).
Thank you for the compliment. I struggle to see my own strength sometimes.
What an amazing story. While I was reading it, it seemed to me that I had just watched an interesting and a bit sad film about a woman on a difficult path to his music and dream. Thank you, Heather, for writing all this. I am very close to all this, although I did not have such powerful incentives as your stepdad was for you.
Once don Juan (in the books of Carlos Castaneda) said that it is a great success when there is a tyrant in your life, who pushes your will to win over yourself. I'm glad you didn't give up, and now... you know how to play 14 instruments. I am very glad to meet you!
Thank you @yurche for your kind words. 💕
I don’t know that Grandpa was incentive or motivation... I think it was more God who put a love in me that was stronger than the ostracism. But there is definitely truth to that statement by Castaneda. I know many people who had those who pushed them and because of the pushing, made big leaps.
Beautiful for sure.