I had a meditative summer. I put threw myself into new situations and ran full speed to try to grow up and learn more about myself and what I really wanted out of life. I played at the Liahonaroo music festival in Nashville and thought I'd come out knowing what I wanted for myself musically. I nannied for two weeks out in Missouri and thought that the most important thing that I'd learn would be the value of hard work. Then I worked odd jobs until I went off to Europe for a month and a half where I thought I'd learn all about myself as an artist. But this summer had other plans for me.
I spent 6 days in Nashville. For my freshman year of college, I attended Belmont University as a Songwriting Major. The first night I was back, Megan picked me up, made me vegan stir-fry and invited a bunch of our friends over. We talked for hours about music, art and living well. The next day I went to a party with a couple of those friends and, while everyone around us was getting drunk and Freddie Mercury was flailing on the television, I had one of the best conversations about relationships that I've ever taken part in. We talked about relationships to friends, significant others, the environment, and God. Then the whole week seemed to revolve around those things. I had been having issues keeping friends close lately, and we talked that through and I recognized some personal issues; a few of them having to do with the significant other in my life. I knew the relationship wasn’t healthy for anyone involved or surrounding it. The next day I ended things as best as I knew how and refocused attention on the people around me. By doing so, I gained a deeper love for my friends in Nashville and they taught me their love for God and the world around them. We worshiped together, we ate vegan food together, we walked barefoot across Nashville just to feel the different textures of the city we all love so much. Those experiences that developed out of a friendly conversation helped me realize that now is the time to be conscious. Not tomorrow or next week, but now. I've been walking around numb. But Nashville shook me awake.
And just in time. The next week I flew out to Missouri to nanny my four young cousins. I spent the evening with their parents, learning how to take care of the toddler, where to drop the kids off for school, what kind of food they like and how to get them all to go to bed. The next morning I woke up as a single mother of four. It was one of the hardest experiences of my life. I had baby sat before, of course, but never for so long. I was a chauffeur, chief, stylist, maid, art teacher, referee, laundry service, sheep dog, commissioned songwriter, and storyteller. I was also their official blogger and photographer. I had my hands full. And I had this desire to do everything perfectly. But there I was, a college student who barely remembers to feed herself half of the time, taking care of four young kids. I was failing at everything I tried with them. They wouldn't eat the healthy food I offered, they didn't want to shower, they couldn't get to bed on time. One night I was so stressed out and depressed that I just fell to my knees and asked for help. The next day I gave myself completely over to the kids. It was all about them. I didn't sigh when I had to put down my book for the 5th time to refill a cup of Fruit Loops. I didn't force the toddler to wear what I thought would look better than his red shorts and green/brown striped polo that he picked out. I didn't even limit the number of books I'd read before bedtime. I realized that I'm just a service to these kids. And although bedtime is important, I wasn't their mother. I had no authority. I had no control and I didn't have to. I wasn't their mother. I couldn't do everything the way she could and I didn't have to do everything perfectly. No one was expecting me to. And that was a new and refreshing concept to me. No one is expecting me to be perfect. Maybe that's silly that I've always expected to be held up against some shining example, but what a relief to know that it's not true. We're all experiencing today for the first time.
In Europe I learned about art, self expression, and the value of hard work. I wrote about three of those in my last blog post. In that post, I hinted at the idea of self love. That love was sparked in Europe but the fuller development and realization of it did not. That came later.
I know that I'm a valuable person. I know that I have talents and I know that I use them well. But sometimes I forget. Somedays, somebody else seems to inhabit my mind and make me feel hopeless, helpless, and much too far below the bar of where I thought I was the day before. But then I admitted that that's a problem. I said it out loud. I let myself accept that I wasn't perfect and that I was a little crazy in my own way. That alone has helped me take steps necessary for learning to love myself at all times. It's a slow process, but I'm getting there.
One thing that really helped me tie this all together was a show that I had at Muse a few weeks ago. I know that seems silly, but hear me out. I've been playing shows for a long time. Well, open mics, coffee shops and the little showcases. But I decided that my music was at a stand still. This show had to be different. And how could it not? After the summer that changed me, my music had to change as well. So I wrote a setlist. I didn't just list off songs I want to play in a random order or come up with the next song off the top of my head. I planned out a set list. I spent hours on this thing. I wanted it to flow, tell my story, and be a seamless, beautiful experience for everyone. And the show was a complete success! The whole time I was on stage, I was confident. The audience was really feeding off of that and I took those positive vibes and became even more secure and confident. After I got off stage, one of my friends was so impressed that he kissed the top of my head. He was so proud. And I was so happy. I loved it. I loved myself. I loved everything about what I had just created. I had created and moulded and edited and transformed and made something wonderful. It was an experience that I would never forget.
This summer taught me to value my relationship to myself- I'm not perfect, but I can work hard and develop my talents and be something amazing and beautiful and worth while.
So that's why I'm not the next Brady Parks- I love me too much to be anyone else.
Love always,
Lexi
