in the quiet
i was talking to a friend about the upcoming single. and it hit me. i should be excited. i should be pumped. i should be thrilled. i should be unable to shut up about it. but… i don’t really feel that way. i used to be so invested in getting as many people to hear it as possible, as many pre-saves as possible… just so in the rat race of forcing it on people, trying my hardest to get it in their ear canals.
do you want the truth? here it is. it is so hard to feel like you have any kind of talent whatsoever or that it even matters that you’re creating art when it doesn’t seem like the world cares about any of it — the talent i mean. it’s all vanilla to me. and i hate feeling like that. i hate saying it. i hate typing it. but it’s how i feel. then i remember feelings are liars… and feelings aren’t the truth. but it’s really hard to care. it’s really hard to push, force, assert… when this music is so not about me. it wasn’t my idea. i thought we were done. i thought it was over. but… God.
i keep asking Him why He’s calling me into this. i can’t seem to bring myself to blast this song or this album all over social media, begging people to listen, save, download, buy, like i used to. the last album, i have no idea how many people probably got sick of me and my every other sentence, because it had something to do with listening to my record. i don’t care to do that this time. for whatever reason. i mean, don’t get me wrong, i want you to listen. i think it’s well worth 4 minutes of your time. but i’m feeling like being quiet about it and just releasing it into the world without all the circus tactics.
i wrote this song and this record because after i laid down live performances, i started feeling all of these songs flooding into me. i couldn’t explain it, but i hadn’t had that kind of inspiration to write in months. literally… so i leaned into it. and what i loved about it was that it just kind of… came out. nothing was forced. nothing felt like it was fitting a square peg into a round hole. i asked Josh if he wanted to help me write this project, and he was instantly on board. so we just started writing. i had a bunch of stuff written before we started, but the flow just felt different.
the production felt different. i honestly hadn’t picked up a guitar in months, but the solos felt different. the whole structure of the recording felt different. and i’m so excited about it, but not in the same way as before. not in the same in your face, “you have to hear this, listen to this, omg did you know i recorded a song?!?!” way. i just feel… chill. calm. accepting of whatever is.
to say i know the exact purpose of this record would be a lie. it’s weird to feel like you’re giving something up and then being told to keep doing it. but i have to trust. i have to have faith. i know for a fact that i’m not interested in placing my art in an environment where it has the possibility of no longer being mine, so in true independent artist fashion, this is how it’s going to go. i’m gonna write it. i’m gonna record it. i’m gonna put it out. wash, rinse, repeat.
sometimes i find myself forgetting that fact that sometimes the best things happen in the quiet. as an artist, i’ve been “quiet” for a while. no public releases, no shows, just introspective time trying to understand what this gift is supposed to be used for. what i have to keep reminding myself is this:
the truth, the direction, the purpose… comes from a still small voice… one that cannot be heard in the loud. it can only be heard in the quiet. it doesn’t raise it’s volume above the chaos. it doesn’t try to be heard over the rest of the noise. it just sits and waits patiently to tell me the same things it’s been saying all along. whether i want to hear it or not. whether i want to believe it or not. it will just keep calmly, kindly, lovingly, and consistently saying the same thing.
you can’t miss what’s meant for you. it’ll gently follow you around until you finally get quiet enough to actually listen. and i’m guilty of “listening” but immediately doubting, writing off, and continuing with whatever i want to do. i did it for a long time with performing. until i couldn’t ignore it anymore. once i got that out of the way, then came the call to write.
listen, i don’t have it all figured out. far from it. i’m not writing this from a place of complete understanding. but, i can’t really deny the confidence that small voice possesses. it’s way more confident than some of my loudness… loud does not equal confident. don’t get it twisted. sometimes loud is nothing more than an attempt to not be found out. sometimes loud is all a cover for the times when i feel like i have no idea what i’m actually doing, or even better… when i’m trying my hardest to ignore or drown out those gentle nudges i don’t want to admit might actually be on to something.
don’t be afraid of the quiet. don’t be afraid to lean in. don’t be afraid if it doesn’t make sense. maybe it’s not supposed to. and maybe you’re wasting time trying to figure it out. these are all lessons i’m currently actively learning… do they hit home for you?