Friday, August 2, 2013

Gifts

“Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. 
It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.” - Mary Oliver 

Music is a gift.  I also think that it's a curse.  A creative mind yearns to share dreams, receive love and craves acknowledgement.  Music can push you and push people away.  It can be your breath, your food... it can seep out of your pores.  It can drive you mad.  It has left me lonely yet so full.  Having this career as a chosen path is a paradox.  I sometimes feel like music is the only thing that loves me back but despises me at the same time.  Music is the only thing I can count on that when I give to it - it gives back to me.  And yet sometimes, we as musicians, have very little to show for ourselves.  

I don't want to believe that this is all I have. I don't want to think that the the sounds of guitars and lyrics are the only things that love me back.  I don't want to think that in the lonely hours all that I have are words and melodies to wrap their arms around me.  I want to believe that there is a love out there so deep and rich, drenched in passion and heart waiting for me.  I want to believe that there is someone out there who will give to me and I to them with abandon...who needs me like they need breath and I need them like water....

I have seen a glimpse of this in some people I have met, but it seems something always unravels.  Hence where music can be the greatest gift.  A little gift of lyric that Shane and I were given are these 2 lines in our song "Into Goodbye..."  

No one tells you people fall in and out like rain
I found the hard way how a heart can break

Without broken hearts, we would never know what love is.  Without the dark, we wouldn't know the light.

But all is not broken and all is not dark!  I have met many people over the years that are "gifts."  A smile, a touch, a gesture... many have left tattoos on my heart for life.  For that, I am truly grateful.  I can only hope that I am that to some people as well.  

As musicians - every once in awhile, God gives us a gift in a song.  When I get one of these - most times I listen back through the work tape and re-read the lyrics and have no idea where they came from.  The only explanation is straight from God.  Shane and I recently had this happen - last week to be exact.  This song really defines what it's like to be a musician and to be left with only God and music.  It's called "God and My Guitar." Gifts like this song make all of the heartache so worth it.
You can hear it here, but please know that it's in work tape form which means it's a rough version  - God and My Guitar.  

God and My Guitar
Megan Conner/Shane Hines
7.24.13

I ran her off to New York City
The girl I loved the girl so pretty
Couldn’t make her my wife, couldn’t take it that far
Now all I got is God and my guitar

Couldn’t drink enough to get my fill
I was running like hell but standing still 
Finally swore off the stuff and left the bar
Now I’m left with God and my guitar

All I need is to be 
Strumming my heart on worn out ol six string
Listening to God whispering in my ear
Son, have no fear
Yeah life gets tough and life gets hard 
Sure as the moon and the stars
Always got God and my guitar 

Met a brand new girl who’d make me feel alright
Not for forever, just for tonight
But I changed my mind on the way to the car
Headed home with God and my guitar

All I need is to be 
Strumming my heart on worn out ol six string
Listening to God whispering in my ear
Son, have no fear
Yeah life gets tough and life gets hard 
Sure as the moon and the stars
Always got God and my guitar

Haven’t been alone since age 15
Was scared of being left so I’d just leave
No amount of nothing could heal the scars
Till I found God and my guitar

All I need is to be 
Strumming my heart on worn out ol six string
Listening to God whispering in my ear
Son, have no fear
Yeah life gets tough and life gets hard 
Now I see light where there was dark
All thanks to God and my guitar


I like to believe that I've learned a few things over the course of my lifetime so far.  I know that I have much more to learn, but every year and even every day - I learn something new or re-learn something old.  The quote that I posted at the top of the blog rings true to the core.  Everything in this life is a gift  - in the very darkest and loneliest of days and nights - if you look closely enough - you will find a light.  It might be trapped under a stone or squashed in a corner, but it's there, and it's good.  It's a gift.  

Monday, June 3, 2013

The Things I Learned from a 25(ish)k Trail Race

For those of you who may not know a 25k run is equivalent to 15 miles.  I have a couple of crazy runner friends who have recently started hosting trail races.  Check them out at HardWin Adventures! I participated in their first 2 so naturally I signed up for the third.  This one however was an ultra... they had distances of 10k, 25k and 50k.  After trying to be coerced into the 50k (which I almost did), I decided to play it smart and just do the 25k.  I figured after running Boston a month and a half ago and then doing the half here - at least my legs would somewhat remember what it felt like to run longer than 4 or 5 which is what I've been doing mostly lately.

Soooooooo, this race ended up being longer than a 25k - probably somewhere between 17-20 miles actually (or so it seemed), and it took longer to complete than running a marathon which is a full 26.2 miles!!  This race was CRAZY.  Would I do it again - of course.  It was beautiful.  And although I consider myself a much better road racer, I couldn't have been happier than out in the middle of the woods that day.  There is something very liberating when you find yourself completely alone in the middle of the woods.

Needless to say - I had 4 hours to think, and I came up with a list of things that I either discovered about myself, life or trail racing.  Actually I think running is a good metaphor for life.  A lot of these things can translate into every day.  So here ya go...

-Have a good pair of shoes.  Seriously.  Your shoes can change your life.

-ALWAYS HAVE WATER AVAILABLE.  All I could think about was the next water stop...  How far it was and how good that water or Gatorade would taste...ahhh.  Water is muy importante.  Most people offered me a swig of their water here and there though - thank God.

-Get a camel. No, not a living, breathing camel with a hump...  although there were many times during that race that I would have liked a camel, or a horse, or donkey, or a large pig...anything that I could have  ridden and given my legs a break.  But, a camel aka camelback, I should say - is a water pack that is like a backpack.  Very convenient for these types of things.

-Learn to embrace the wildlife.  At one point I named a fly Rex because he stayed with me so long.  At first I was PISSED and wished death upon Rex, but in my heightened state of having nothing else to do other than think and maneuver my way through the woods, I realized Rex was just doing his thing.  We became buds by the end of the race.

-Going downhill is much harder than uphill.  For me this statement is true - 100%.  I find myself always more comfortable going uphill - racing or in life.  Down hill I get scared and put on the brakes - even in cycling - I ride my brakes most of the way down.  I find myself happier when I have a goal or a bit of a struggle to get through - a climb.  If you're climbing towards that goal then you can stand at the top of the mountain and enjoy the view once you get there.

-Stretch.  I never do it.  But today - 2 days later - I'm feeling things in my legs that I've never quite felt before.  I have to believe stretching would have helped.

-Pay attention to the signs.  This is super important when you are in the forest alone and there are signs pointing you home...  Also, I'd have to say this is pretty important in life.  Whether they are actual signs or signs from God - they are there for a reason.

-Where you end up is not as important as the journey to where you're going.  Cliche, but true. I knew I'd get there eventually...but, I kept trying to soak up the moments along the way.  I met some awesome people.  By the end - we kept picking up more people - me, Bob, Logan and Drew finished together.  We ended up hiking most of the last few miles together enjoying convo and the scenery, all while trying to not thing about how much further we had to go.  There was one moment where I was alone surrounded by nothing but woods, with the sun peeking through some of the trees which made it seem like there was gold dripping down from the sky.  My thought out path was laid out in front of me and then the wind just came out of nowhere...  All I could hear was the wind rustling the leaves for what seemed like for miles. There was nothing else to worry about in that moment besides putting one foot in front of the other and moving forward. It was truly inspirational and serene.

So, that's it. A few of my random thoughts while running.  I hope you can relate in some way - even if you're not a runner.  I'm sure there were other things that I came up with in my delirious state of running, but these are the main ones I took from my crazy, long, hilly, brutal but beautiful 25(ish)k trail race.



Thursday, May 9, 2013

Suck-cess

Do you like the new word I invented?  I'm pretty sure Webster needs to add it to the dictionary.  What is the definition you ask?  I'm still working on that.  However, I will be writing today about my definition of what the real word success means.

What is success?  I have learned most people define it by money.  If you have a good savings, a house, a nice car, maybe you're even married and have a couple of rug-rats running around... THEN and only then are you successful.  If I could insert a game show buzzer sound here I would.

I'm in the music biz, and I'm blessed enough to say that I make a living doing it.  I think I once heard that less than 10% (it might really be 1% - I can't remember) of people that go into this business actually make a living, so I consider myself very lucky and very blessed.  (I have also worked my ASS off to get here).  But where is here?  Because "Megan Conner" isn't a household name many would consider me to not be successful.  Again, I would insert a game show buzzer here.

Success in this business doesn't always coincide with making money.  Sometimes landing a publishing deal is as far as many will get, and that in and of itself is considered a success.  Many deals in this town require you to have another job (or 2) to make ends meet.  To some, success is recording a song or having an artist - indie or with a label - record your song.  To some, landing a big co-write is a success, and to a lot - it's being able to say that they pay their bills making music.

To me, THIS quote sums up what I believe the true definition to be... "Success isn't just about what you accomplish in your life, it's about what you inspire others to do." -Author Unknown

No, I'm not rolling in the dough.  I haven't quite figured out yet how to save for retirement, but I do have health insurance! I don't own a house, but my car is paid off.  I don't have a pub deal right now, but I have a cut on the next Rascal Flatts album.  If I've learned one thing - it's truly about looking at what you DO have rather than what you DON'T.  I may not change the world, but I know I've changed someone's heart.  I know this because I get emails from people who have heard this song or that song and who have said - "that brought me to tears," or "that song really hits home..." THAT is what matters.  THAT is success. To me, I could die tomorrow and die knowing that I've lived.  And, I've lived because I've dreamed.





Friday, April 26, 2013

Dear Boston...


Builders build, painters paint, writers write... After witnessing the tragedy in Boston first hand less than 2 weeks ago, I came home with a fresh take on life, a new thankfulness for my blessings, and a heavy heart. Although I did not see the blood that was shed with my own two eyes on Boylston Street - I saw the smoke come out of the side of the building and felt the blasts in my belly. Coming home and realizing how close you were to such a loss - something that has affected the WORLD - is a strange feeling.

From this I asked myself what could I do to shed light on the situation? What did I take, see, hear and feel while I was up there? How can I share my heart and spread the amazing love that I witnessed? Again, builders build, painters paint, writers write. I'm a writer.

So, Dear Boston - this song is my love letter to you...



You can buy the song HERE to help support the victims of the tragedy. ALL of the proceeds will go to The One Fund which is raising money for the victims and those affected by the tragedy.

I hope we can show the world this song and share the STRENGTH of Boston. Please pass it on through Facebook, Twitter, email... any means to spread this Love is appreciated!

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

The Day the Marathon Changed Forever - My Experience at Boston 2013


This is a very different blog than I had planned for.  I had hoped to pack this blog full of memories, smiles, new friends, happy moments, great stories, and pictures of the after parties.  Most of these things did indeed happen, but this is a very different blog than I planned for.

Throughout the weekend, I kept taking mental notes of different moments that would be great to blog about - the American Liver Foundation brunch, stories I heard, people I met, the doctors and therapists I would thank for helping get me healthy enough to finish...  but that has all changed. Yes, I will write of those things, but the focus has shifted.  Instead of a celebratory blog of me basking in my slow pace but finished marathon, I will tell you about what I experienced on the day that the marathon changed forever.

Marathoners are a family.  When you see someone with a 26.2 on the back of their car or a race shirt from a marathon completed - you automatically have a sense of connection with that person.  Only people who have run a marathon can truly relate to the experience of the full 26.2 miles.  Running a marathon is quite an emotional and physical journey.  From the first training run to the moment you cross the finish line - you experience highs and lows, tiredness, soreness, self doubt and a sense of accomplishment.  It’s a paradox of sorts.  A beautiful paradox.

I arrived in Boston on Friday eager with butterflies in my belly every time I thought about the run.  I’ve been battling ITBS (IT band syndrome) for quite some time and it was so debilitating that I was unable to finish the last full marathon I had attempted.  Needless to say I wasn’t sure I would be able to finish.  My expectations of myself were low considering Boston is the most prestigious and fastest marathon in the world. I just wanted to finish.  You usually have to qualify to run this race, so it’s considered a huge honor to run Boston.  I however decided to check this off my bucketlist and run for charity.  I thought - what the heck, I’ll test out the ol’ leg, do some good, and check off a bucketlist item!  What a plan! 

Friday when I got to the airport my aunt was in route to pick up both me and my mom who was flying in from Greensboro.  I stood at the baggage carousel waiting for my luggage for quite awhile.  I watched as the same bags went around and around, and finally lost all hope that my bag had made it to Boston. Images of me running the marathon naked started dancing in my head.  Scary, I know.  I strutted on over to the help desk where I then found out that my bag was still in Newark.  I shared my naked running image with her, we both got a good laugh and she helped to reunite me with my bag 3 hours later.  As soon as I saw my aunt I said - “Sheesh, if this is any indication of how this weekend is going to go...I should turn around and go home.”  I had no idea what was coming...

Mom, my aunt and I drove to Nashua, NH, where we stayed with my aunt and uncle until Sunday morning enjoying dinners, catching up, ranting about the music biz and memories of past times.  Sunday morning my uncle drove me into Boston where he joined me at the American Liver Foundation brunch.  The brunch was over 3 hours long and it was truly an emotional 3 hours.  We sat at the table with a wonderful couple - Bob Rice and his girlfriend Gwen.  Bob had had a liver transplant and was doing wonderfully.  He leaned over the table, shared his story, and thanked me for being a part of the team and raising money for people like him.  I was beyond touched.  I also found it very strange that my stepdad - who had passed away of liver cancer almost 9 years ago - was named Richard Rice, and has a brother who is still living named Bob Rice.  Coincidence?  I don’t think so...  

We had a lovely brunch.  An amazing lady had the courage to tell the story of her liver transplant and how a live donor saved her life, I met a 7 year old boy who was waiting for a liver transplant, and we got to know Bob and Gwen even more - laughing and crying together... all of these people kept profusely thanking ME for what I did, but I kept thanking THEM for the opportunity to run for them.  It makes it that much more meaningful.  

Brunch ended, I won a raffle, and I then went on to the expo, which was great AND where I bought some stuff I probably didn’t need and got a bunch of free crap that will probably later be thrown away.  I came back to the hotel, checked in, took a nap, ran 2 miles on the treadmill, loaded up my sweet mp3 Oakleys and got ready to meet some Nashville gals for dinner at Joe’s on Newbury St.  I walked over to Joe’s about 6:15pm shivering in the chilly Boston evening air looking around and taking it all in.  I kept looking down the streets wondering - will I be running down this one tomorrow?  I wonder if my leg will hold up long enough for me to make it to this spot...  How will I feel when I get back to the hotel?  Those thoughts were cut short when I made it to Joe’s and met the girls for dinner.  Melanie Yappen - a Barry’s Bootcamp member had invited me to dinner because no marathoner should carbo-load alone!  All of the women were small and in amazing shape. I’m pretty sure I ate more than all of them put together.  We had a great dinner, and they all educated me on running Boston and what I would need tomorrow before the race.  I so enjoyed this time with them.  The calm before the storm.

I didn’t sleep at all on Sunday night.  I kept twisting and turning and thinking I should have had a glass of wine like most of them at dinner!!  I’d watch TV, doze off, then wake up with anxiety and do it all again.  I’d look at the clock thinking maybe I should get up then see the time and just get pissed that I had to get up in 3 hours and run 26.2 miles on no sleep and the cycle would begin again. Next time - maybe I’ll opt for the wine. :)  

I rolled out of bed at an early 4:45am, showered and headed to meet the liver team for a quick breakfast and a ride to the Athlete’s Village.  I chose a table where people had some random stuff sitting there thinking I would meet some new peeps - I knew no one since I was an out of towner.  A dad and his 2 sons (Chris, Nick and Jason) - all running for the ALF eventually sat down and we became fast friends.  They had no idea that they just found a little leach for the trip down to Athlete’s Village and beyond...  We all piled on the bus at 6:15am and rode about an hour away to the start.  We kept thinking - wow - we have to run THE ENTIRE WAY back to Boston!  NBD.

Once we got to the Athlete’s Village - we set up shop.  we had our little section of grass with towels, blankets, magazines, tp and snacks. Let me paint the picture - imagine a cleaner version of Woodstock without the live music.  Lines were 20-30 people deep for porta-potties, DJ music  blaring (mostly Michael Jackson), and there were multiple tents with free bagels, coffee, waters and power bars.  The ground was covered with athletes talking, sleeping, lounging, reading...anything to pass the time until we were allowed to leave for the start line.

The Boston Marathon is magical and runs deep with tradition and pride - you could feel it in the air.  It was a beautiful, crisp morning, much unlike last year which I heard was unbearably hot.  Me and my friends were excited, talking about our hopeful finish times and memories from past races.  Finally the time came for us to leave for the start line, which was another 1-2 miles away from where we were.  We hugged, wished each other luck, exchanged info, made plans for post-race drinks, packed into our corral and off we went.  

The day couldn’t have been more perfect.  The weather was completely ideal for running.  (Note to self though - if you want to RACE a marathon - don’t start with the charity runners - it was crazy trying to weave in and out of everyone for quite a few miles.)  I was stunned by the amount of people lining the streets in support - screaming, yelling, handing out oranges, water, vaseline and other marathon-necessary products.  The different towns I ran through brought on new faces and new energies.  The support was amazing.  I kept thinking about my leg... I’d feel a tweak here and think - oh, here it goes - this is it - I’m done!  But, it kept holding on.  I’d go in and out between listening to the crowds and listening to music, reading the signs people had (some hilarious), and giving out high-fives to spectators.  The first 20 miles I felt pretty good, but my legs started screaming at mile 20.  The last 6 I decided to take it easy because I wasn’t trying to break any records (although I would have loved to have run a 3:35). I was trying to be smart and be more concerned about my leg not breaking than a new PR. I stopped to rub out my leg every water stop, took a bathroom break and tried to soak up the people.  This WAS my first Boston - I was going to enjoy it despite my unhappy IT band dammit!  

I saw the sign for mile 25 and let out a huge sigh of relief.  The man beside me said - WE DID IT - WE’VE GOT THIS!  He wished me good luck, we exchanged smiles, and we parted ways.  I saw my family's faces tucked away in the crowd the last .2 of the marathon which gave me the energy for my last little surge to the finish.  I crossed the finish line with a bunch of different emotions flooding through.  Happiness, gratefulness, tiredness, soreness...but mainly I just felt blessed.  Blessed that I was capable and able to do what I had just done.  Time to check another thing off of my bucketlist.  Also after crossing the finish line - I powered up my phone only to find out that I was able to share my good news that Rascal Flatts recorded one of my songs the week before (co-written with Brian White and Ben Caver) for their upcoming project.  It was a GOOD day.

After finishing tons of volunteers stood there passing out waters, medals, wraps, gatorade and food.  You could feel the love of the finishers around you as well as from the volunteers who slung congratulations left and right for finishing.  It was a slow walk through the masses of finishers and volunteers.  I made my way through all of them and found my bus with my marathon bag that I had dropped off at the start.  I told the lady my number and she gingerly handed me my bag while offering her congratulations.  I set my bag down to get out a dry shirt and jacket and then all of a sudden I heard a huge BOOM.  It sounded like a cannon went off.  I saw a cloud of smoke come out from the side of a building.  Then a few seconds later - BOOM - another one.  Everyone stopped and said - WHAT WAS THAT?  No one had an answer.

My immediate response was that we were being attacked from above.  I calmly put on my jacket and started heading to the hotel where I was to meet my family although I had no idea which direction to go.  Confusion ensued.  Everyone was asking what those loud booms were.  I heard one person say - “I certainly hope that was a really loud firework.”  People started crying and trying frantically to figure out what had happened as they tried to reach loved ones.  I was able to get a text to my best friend Robin - bombs went off, people are freaking out and then - my phone died.  

I hobbled as fast as I could back to the Westin to meet my family.  By that time - most people were in tears, some in shock recounting what they saw at the blast, people holding on to others for dear life, and trying to reach their families on phones to no avail.  I found my fam, and we then went back up to my room on the 18th floor where we watched the news in disbelief and could look down on the scene.  Ambulances and police lined the block.  At that point - the last thing on my mind was the fact that I had just finished running 26.2 miles.  We couldn’t get through to anyone on the phone and my phone was dead anyways, but I was able to get online and let everyone know I was fine on Facebook.  Once my phone recharged I was overwhelmed with texts of people wondering if I was okay.  Messages, texts, Facebooks emails and posts as well as tweets came flooding in...  I never knew I knew so many people and people that actually cared.  

I told my mom - I always wondered if something happened to me if anyone would care and I got my answer loud and clear.  It was unbelievable.  Even 2 days later - I am still receiving messages of concern.  

The hotel I was staying at - the Westin soon became the hub of the press conferences where the mayor would take up camp because hotel was only a block or so from the crime scene.  For awhile we were in lockdown - no one was allowed to come or go from the hotel.  SWAT teams and men with machine guns lined the lobby and entrance. Against my gut, my fam decided the best thing to do would be to get out of the city since we were able to.  My uncle’s car was parked in Newton - a town about 15 miles away that we could reach by taxi or once we got to a place where traffic was not blocked off - someone from his work could pick us up.  The thought of walking more was not appealing to me.  By this time my IT band was MAD, but I rallied.  We walked a mile or 2, found a taxi which took us to their van and then we were safely on the road back to New Hampshire.  

We got back and became glued to the TV to find out how many had been injured or had died, and I waited to hear back from all of my friends running the race.  (Most of them started in earlier corrals because they are super fast, which meant they were just fine. :)  Most of the people finishing at the point of the bombings were either slower runners or charity runners - those of us who started in later corrals.  As the news poured in, we sat there in disbelief.  Disbelief that this happened, disbelief that someone would DO this, and disbelief that such a glorious day had been changed forever.  

I have been willing to share my story with the news and radio. So many times the reality of what happened gets blown out of proportion by those who weren’t even there. I think everyone just wants to feel connected somehow though, and that’s why it happens.  I will try to share my perspective on what happened as best as i can. I don’t feel like I have much to say besides for everyone to try to focus our energies on the victims now.  Many people get stuck on the “what ifs.”  What if I had finished 15 minutes later?  What if my family had decided to go to Starbucks for a coffee and watch me finish there?  What if, what if...  Well, those what if’s - WEREN’T.  But those what if’s WERE reality for some people, and THOSE are the people we need to spend our energy thinking about.

Lives were lost, limbs were lost, hope was lost on this day.

I heard the blasts, felt the booms in my chest and saw the smoke, but I walked away from this marathon with only a pair of really sore legs.  I am grateful.  I am thankful that all of my friends were okay, and my heart is broken for the victims and my running family.  I do think some people will be scared to go watch a marathon or run one again, but my prayer is that we don’t let them win by being scared.  This is the time to come together, run harder and more and show these cowards that they will never break our will or our fight.  

This tragedy will live in my heart forever, but it will make it beat stronger.  Stronger for those whose hearts no longer beat, stronger for those who lost something that day, and stronger for the will to keep going.  This day will be etched in the hearts of many, but we will bind together and our family will be stronger.  To me, this day will not only be remembered by the tragedy but also for all of the GOOD I saw - strangers helping one another, people willing to lend a hand in any way, and for a personal achievement of my own.  To me, this day will not just be remembered by a tragedy, but also for when we became stronger runners - not physically - but emotionally because we WILL show the world that that marathoners are the toughest of tough.  

Marathons will never be the same from this day forward.  More people will run, more people will watch - this will NOT stop us.  Yes, this was the day that the marathon changed forever, but this is the day that the marathon changed for the BETTER.  Watch as the world and as runners come together to make this sport even stronger.  Yes, this WAS the day that the marathon changed forever, and I’m sure glad I was there.  Boston - I can't wait to see you again.  




Monday, April 8, 2013

I Feel Like a Dandelion

“Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore.” -Andre Gide

 I feel like a dandelion.  I feel like someone picked me up, took the biggest breath they had and blew out all their air from the very bottom of their belly on a warm, sun-drenched, windy spring day.  I feel like a bunch of pieces of me scattered into the breeze...  I don't feel like the petals that land softly on the ground.  Those are the ones that will take root where they are and re-bud into a new flower.  No.  I feel like the petals that are swept up in the gust swirling and twirling up and down - maybe landing on something for a split second only to be picked back up again and journey on to somewhere else.  I feel like the seed that a young girl chases for a minute but the second she thinks she has it - it gets carried higher on the winds only to be a bit out of her reach.  That is how I feel.  

It's a transitional period in my life right now.  I'm in between publishing deals and don't have any immediate projects booked.  Oh, I have writing sessions booked almost daily and bootcamp classes to teach...  

Some things have happened lately.  Words said, things done, doors closed.  It makes me think bigger.  It makes me think about LIFE.  It makes me think about what I want to leave behind.  It makes me wonder if I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing.  It makes me think about simplifying and if I could do anything what I'd do.  It makes me dream more.  It makes me scared, but it makes me excited.  It builds my faith and makes me lean on God more.  

So, I feel like a dandelion.  But maybe I'm not the one that's blowing in the wind...  Maybe that is what I long to be... Maybe I'm the one seed still holding on to the stem...wanting to let go desperately but frightened of where the wind may take it.  

Go back and read the quote this blog started with.  

Maybe I need to not be scared of letting go and trusting where the wind may take me...  The winds shift for a reason.  I think I have to be okay with not knowing and be okay with continuing my search. I have to know that I'm going to get hurt and lost along the way and that I might tumble around but eventually I'll land where I'm supposed to.   Yes, I feel like a dandelion.  





Wednesday, April 3, 2013

I Play A Round

I had a moment last night.  You know one of those moments where your heart fills up with thankfulness and you almost can't believe you are where you are?  Yeah...I had one of those last night.

I was playing a round at the legendary Bluebird Cafe with Danielle Peck, Lauren Lucas and Jesse Lee. Noooo, we weren't playing AROUND, we were playing A round.  Well, we kind of did play around a bit...I told some really bad jokes, some hilarious songs were sung, needless to say - it was a fun night.  But, the premise of a round at the Bluebird is that you have a few writers sit in a circle and one writer plays a song, then the next writer plays one, then the next and so forth, and you keep going around and around until your allotted time is up.  This round was a part of Tin Pan South which is a huge yearly music festival in Nashville where the best of the best set up shows at many of the venues in Nashville.  It's always a huge honor to play in one of these or host one.

The Bluebird is one of the most prestigious and legendary places to play in Nashville.  It's a hole in the wall in a strip mall in Green Hills right beside a kids clothing store and a furniture store.  You'd drive right past it and never know it was there. Everyone who is anyone in country music has played there - even started at the Bluebird.  One of the things I love most about playing there is the intimacy.  It's a very small venue, and people are literally sitting right beside you as you sing.  I almost shared french fries with the lady sitting at the table next to me.  What?  They looked really good.  But the wonderful thing about a round and a place like this is that you can actually hear the songs and the stories behind the songs. You can see the faces of the people there to hear your songs.  It's incredible.  There was one man sitting behind me that would reach out and tap my shoulder after each song and tell me how wonderful it was or how much he enjoyed it... Amazing.

So, I had a moment last night.  It was while one of the other girls was singing.  I looked out to the crowd into the lights and really couldn't believe that I was sitting right there.  Sitting in chairs where music icons had sat singing their songs, sitting there surrounded by such talent, sitting there in the midst of a hundred people who had paid to come hear our songs that came from our hearts.  I had a moment.

I have many moments where I ask myself what in the HELL am I doing still in Nashville and still in this crazy business, but it's that one moment like I had last night that makes everything else worthwhile.