16th Avenue

There is a reason every post in this blog starts with a song title. Music affects my mood (or reflects my mood) greatly, and I find the words to so many songs poetic and inspirational, and thought-provoking. I turn to music to work through the deep dark moments, and as an outlet for my exuberance.

Last weekend, my husband and I went to a Kathy Mattea concert. She was phenomenal. At one point in the evening, she talked about how you can listen to a song for years and then one day part of it jumps out at you in an entirely different way....

Ever since I first heard it, "16th Avenue" has been my favorite song. It's held that spot for more than 20 years. 16th Avenue is about walking away from everything to make your dreams come true.

From the corners of the country, from the cities and the farms
With years and years of living tucked up, underneath their arms
They walked away from everything just to see a dream come true

I am goal-oriented. I always have been. I really believe that sometimes you have to be willing to say no, give up things, walk away from everything, if you're going to pursue your goals or make your dreams come true. If you can't do that, then you're just hoping things will fall into place for you. Life takes grit and perseverance and often, quite a bit of it. Sometimes other people don't understand your dreams, or try to talk you out of them because your dreams don't mesh with theirs. And so you have to make choices. The song "16th Avenue" refers to the street in Nashville where so many of the recording studios are located--and the song ends the way it should...

Ah but then one night in some empty room
where no curtains ever hung
Like a miracle some golden words rolled off of someone's tongue
And after years of being nothing they're all looking right at you
And then for a while they'll go in style on 16th Avenue.

For years, my second favorite song has been "Baby Girl". It also talks about working to pursue your dreams:

This time, I’m gonna make our dreams come true...

I know that I’m on my way
I can tell every time I play
And I know it’s worth all the dues I pay

And that's where Kathy Mattea's words jumped out at me. "16th Avenue" and "Baby Girl" are the same song. Only "Baby Girl" adds in the love of family. She turns to her parents for help when she's pursuing her dreams. And when she reaches her dreams, she tells her parents how much she loves them.

Whaddya know, we made our dreams come true
And there are fancy cars and diamond rings
But you know that they don't mean a thing
They all add up to nothin' compared to you
Well, remember me in ribbons an' curls
I still love you more than anything in the world...
Love, your Baby Girl

The only thing I can think of that is better than pursing your dreams, is doing it with people you love. I think, after 20 years, I need to re-order my favorite songs and put "Baby Girl" on top. I've been fortunate enough to pursue--and reach--so many of my dreams. Now I am enjoying watching my daughters pursue theirs. They know I'm here to help them if they want me to, but the dreams are theirs to pursue, not mine. "16th Avenue" will take second place on my list.

"Fishing in the Dark" has always been third.

Dreams come true...
--Sugarland

I Hope You Dance

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances
But they're worth taking
--LeeAnn Womack

When have I taken chances? When have I doubted myself? Too many times to count.

I doubted I could catch up to my classmates after not taking band for a year and a half. I went back to the saxophone and was in tears for days because I seemed to have lost the ability to make sound. But I kept at it.

I doubted I was going to make it through college. They didn't really have orientations, you just got accepted and got mailed a course catalog. My parents didn't really have the money to pay, so I had to figure out how to hold down a job and keep up with my classes. I almost quit my sophomore year when I had to have my tonsils out and missed three weeks of the quarter. They told me it would take six weeks to recover. I didn't understand that the older you are when you have your tonsils out, the longer it takes you to recover. That was grim. Even at three weeks, it took all my effort to get myself back to class. Odd that something as small as tonsils can do you in like that.

I doubted I was ever going to be able to rock climb at the North Shore. My fear of heights combined with my fear of deep water was just too much to overcome. To this day I don't know how or why I kept at it. Sometimes I could do it, and some times the fear was so paralyzing, my friends would have to haul rope and manually pull me to the top of the climb.

I doubted I would ever downhill ski. A friend who used to be a ski instructor finally talked me into a lesson. She said I did really well. I hated it. It scared the daylights out of me. I settled for cross-country skiing and water skiing. Those were in my comfort zones. Oddly enough, I was badly injured water skiing, not downhill skiing. Go figure. That was the first time I came face to face with my own mortality and had to start viewing my activities through my daughters' lenses. What would it mean for them if something happened to me?

I doubted myself as a mother when I had a screaming baby I didn't know how to calm. Twenty-one years later I remember exactly where I was standing in the living room when my sister-in-law called and I burst into tears and told her what a failure I felt like because my baby would scream every night for hours and I couldn't get her to stop. It would be months before we figured that one out.

I doubted myself as a parent because I didn't understand what one of my daughters was going through when she was dealing with mood swings. I didn't know where to be supportive and where to draw the line. Parenting is full of a zillion reasons to doubt yourself.

I doubted myself when I went back to college at age 42 to get my Master's degree--and spent the next 6 years plugging away at night school. Was this really what I wanted to do? What if I got all the way through this and decided I didn't want the change in career after all? What if I was trading away precious time with my babies for something that wouldn't matter in the end? I did it anyway because I came to realize that the things I was learning were valuable regardless of what I did with my career. I have always felt that personal learning is never wasted.

I have never doubted myself more than when I took an administrative job. I doubt myself every single day of the job. Part of it is because I hold myself to incredibly high standards and I feel that I am not meeting them. Part of it is because I am dealing with the competing demands of so many people and there is no way to make everyone happy and by the very nature of their demands, one cannot help but question themselves. It is the hardest thing about my job. Am I good enough? Can I do this? When I am used to being right, being on top, being capable, doubting myself does not sit well with me. So why do I keep doing it? Good question. I guess part of it is because when I break it down into the individual tasks, I know I am doing a good job. I did a good job on the report I filed. I did a good job helping an upset parent. I did a good job working on the budget. My sense of doubt comes from the huge "to do" pile on my desk.

One thing I am sure of though: some of the most important things in my life have come about through risks I've taken. Probably the most important risk was quitting my job to stay home with my daughters. In this day and age, it's no small thing to go to a single income family. We had to make a lot of sacrifice to do it, but it was worth it.

In all these situations, I end up doing one of two things. I adopt a "what the hell" attitude and just jump into it. A lot like jumping into the deep end of the swimming pool to get wet instead of wading in. If I'm going to do it, I might as well just throw myself into it. That's kind of what I did when I went back to college.

Or I know it's going to be a long hard haul and I steel myself and take it one step at a time, one day at a time. I do what I have to do to get through it. That's what I did with my screaming baby. That's what I do at work every day. I commented to my mom once that it's too bad that the time when you hold babies the most and give them the most love, is also when they are too young to remember it. She disagreed and said, "They may not remember it, but it will never leave them." I hope, 21 years later, that taking it one step at a time with my daughter was worth it and served her well. I hope, down the line, that taking it one step at a time in my job will serve the school well too. Right now, I don't know, but at least I'm not taking the path of least resistance.