Pop Rock Renaissance

I'VE GOT THE RIGHT GLASSES ON NOW MAMA. My boyfriend and I went to see his favorite local Grateful Dead cover band tonight! And although it had some ups and downs... I learned a lot about myself in just a matter of a few hours.

The band was fantastic and it was beautiful to finally see my man giddy and overwhelmed with manic passion over his favorite music and happy place. One of the first things he said when the show started was: "I feel like I'm at church again". He used to see them play once a week almost religiously before covid hit. I got teary as this was particularly profound for me. I've been saying forever and will continue to say these words: "MUSIC IS MY RELIGION. CONCERTS ARE MY CHURCH." I feel like people would buy that bumper sticker... or reshare a post with a cool artsy quote on instagram or facebook. This girl I saw at the last show we were at was there too... dancing away like nobody was watching. I wanted to go befriend her. I wore a flowy dress inspired by her flowlines last fall. But she left before i could. I feel we will meet again one day soon. Boy do I know if its meant to be.... it will be. I look forward to the day I feel safe and confident and secure enough to post a picture like this to my personal social media for more people to see. I guess its tradition to take a 20 minute joint break halfway through the set. I asked my man if he would take my picture smoking, and the results brought me a lot of joy. I look at this picture, and I see me. A me that I am proud of and excited for. A me that is authentic. A me that is hungry to suck the marrow out of life again. A me that smokes weed and doesn't drink and is passionate about cannabis advocacy. I get scared to be open about my cannabis use because there is still so much negative stigma and opinions around it. I worry about future jobs, unsolicited advice from family... etc. Despite it being perfectly legal where I live. I still need to kill the version of myself I was conditioned into believing was me. But she doesn't seem to want to go out without a fight! GOOD THING I'M STRONGER THAN YESTERDAY.

I listened to it again.... the recording from my last medium reading with Maureen Hancock in 2021.

I just spent over two hours reading through a friend's blog and learning more about her intriguing life and incredible travels. She has chronicles from concerts and trips all across the globe over the past ten years, with bits of vulnerability where it mattered most. I kind of see them in a whole new light upon discovering their musings, actually. Which just reinforces the universal life lesson that always comes back around: don't judge a book by its cover. And be kind, because you never know what somebody is going through. She inspired me to get my ass out of my bed and to write... this. Is it significant? Not particularly. But some of the best advice I've been given in regards to writing is to just write something... ANYTHING. Even if its one word. One sentence. Even if its really cringey and bad... just fucking write. So here I am. There was a time when I had a blog with over 5,000 followers, which still astonishes me to this day. I was 19 and was just writing about my life almost like an open journal, with focus on body image and health. I got messages from people regularly saying how my authenticity and points of view and words helped them or inspired them. Mind you, this was 2011 before Instagram became popular and Tumblr reigned supreme. I sometimes wonder if I could ever get that many people to read what I have to say again. I found my confidence through blogging... then seemingly lost it and found it and lost it again so many times I can't pretend that I've ever known my way. (If you know that lyric, let's be friends. lol) If I found my confidence through sharing and writing, I guess I could do it again? In this current culture of social media there has never been more options. I do want to be a writer and author after all. And I process everything better through words- whether that be writing shit down or having a glorious existential conversation with a friend. I've got a lot of shit going on in my life... far more interesting and relatable than my petty boy problems and the well intentioned but problematic focus on my weight, body image, and health. And these days I am also lacking in the friend department. I just simply don't have that many people in my life anymore that are available or I'm comfortable sharing my deepest worries and thoughts with. I had to let go of a lot of people along this journey of finding myself again. So many people broke my trust in such a short amount of time. I'm finding it hard to be vulnerable. I'm scared to be myself out of fear of rejection or people leaving me. I think about people like this friend who's blog I stumbled across. She's not a close friend... I even considered referring to her as an acquaintance because we don't know each other well or talk outside of the concerts we attend or the occasional facebook interaction. But I know that was the imposter syndrome in me talking. I think she intimidates me, which prevents me from taking the time to talk to her more. I just figured she seems so cool and worldly and sure of herself... she must think I'm annoying and weird the majority of the time. But isn't that the same false narrative my mind has been trying to convince me of since basically birth? When I am going to stop listening to myself and start listening to my SELF?

I AM THE RESOURCE. AND I CHOOSE WHO HAS THE PRIVILEGE OF UTILIZING MY ESSENCE.

I am more valuable than money. I am talented. I am capable of changing lives. I invest in myself and I attract people and connections that will see the value in my person and invest in me too. I heal to heal others. I manifest abundance so I may share my gifts with the world.

To the energy vampires I let into my life that sucked me dry until there was almost nothing left: thank you. I am a resource and you all recognized that far sooner than I did. Although you broke my trust and my heart and my spirit, in the end I believe it was necessary for me to really learn and see things clearly the first time in a long time. Thank you for the lessons you taught me. I forgive you. I release you. And I hope you can find forgiveness within yourself and others, too.

"An Open Window Into Another Dimension"

By Kelsey Cap

When I go to see live music, I generally prefer to be as close to the stage as humanly possible. There is something about being able to see the musicians get lost in their uninhibited stank faces, or witness some glitter wink at me from their eyeshadow or outfit that makes a live show that much more engaging and therapeutic. Except one downside to having such an intimate view is that it can be difficult to see the whole band perform depending on how the stage is set up or where you are standing. While seeing Grace Potter perform at the Shelburne Museum in Vermont in September, I was pleasantly surprised when the band came out on stage and I could actually SEE! Like a photograph perfectly framed between the glossy, weathered legs of Grace’s signature Hammond B3 Organ, there was Jordan West in perfect view. Normally she’s the most elusive person to see on the stage, since she’s always towards the back hidden behind a big drum kit. In that moment I found a window… a new perspective. Normally all eyes are on Grace, but this unexpected vision inspired me to take a little detour.

It brought me a lot of joy to be able to actually WATCH Jordan play all night. There still aren’t enough women playing drums and pursuing other male-dominant arts and lines of work, so it has been incredibly refreshing getting to experience a badass and wildly talented female drummer since she started playing with Grace in 2019. It means a lot to me personally because when I was in middle school, I actually wanted to try percussion in music class. To my disappointment, my mother said no to drums stating they would be too big and too loud for our small house.To appease her, I tried the flute and absolutely hated it. After two months, I switched to clarinet and hated that even more. So. Much. Spit. Three months later I quit the school band altogether and now the only instrument I know how to play these days is the tambourine.

When Grace and the band started playing “The Lion the Beast the Beat” and I felt those first few opening drum beats ricochet off my chest, it got me thinking... In some alternate reality, what if my mother had said yes? Could I possibly be the one up there on stage singing and playing drums with Grace? If I actually tried drums first and stuck with it, what would my life be like? Who would I have been friends with? How would being in the school band shape my personality and confidence?

I was friendly with the “band geeks” because at my school most of the misfits stuck together. My close friend group was loving and accepting of me but the majority of them were very academic-oriented and in advanced classes, which resulted in me spending way too much time and energy trying to get perfect grades. Even though it was a struggle, I think it was my way of proving to people (mostly myself) that I was smart. Because whether intentional or not, many people throughout my life have said and done things that insulted my intelligence and made me feel like my ideas and voice didn’t matter. Looking back, I think allowing myself to get a C every now and then would have been good for me… maybe I needed some band geeks to remind me of what living is all about. 

To be honest, I don’t think I would have actually stuck with the drums long-term either. But I do think I would have had a blast banging on that shit and probably stuck it out a little bit longer. 20 years later I genuinely understand my Mom’s hesitation. Drums are not for the faint of heart. And despite our mutual love for loud rock music, I realize now that we both get sensory overload easily. I didn’t know that back then… but didn’t she know what a "good kid" I was? I was a rebel at heart, but had too much anxiety to break her rules. I would have only played when I was allowed or when she wasn’t home. God knows my Dad would have been thrilled to have an excuse to soundproof the basement or create a brand new setup at his place! That kind of stuff was fun for him. My father had a soft spot in his soul filled with a deep love and respect for female rockers. He introduced me to many strong, independent women in music, entertainment, sports, and science. And he always encouraged me to follow their lead. Women like Anne Wilson, Stevie Nicks, Carole King, Shirley Muldowny, and Sally Ride are the ones who led me to this show. He was and still is one of my biggest supporters, and I know he would have appreciated this unique vantage point as well. Good thing he was grooving along next to me all weekend in some alternate dimension for VIP angels. 

As I snapped back into reality halfway through the song, I put my phone away and started to surrender my body to the beat. It was in that moment of pure, uninhibited emotion that I remembered how painfully beautiful my life has been. And I wouldn’t want it any other way. I choose to believe everything happens for a reason, and if you can’t find a reason, you make one. Maybe my Mom had to say no to me playing drums so Jordan would be the one up there on stage. The world needs a drummer like her. Maybe I lost my unique father to cancer at 19 years old so that I would have something to write about. So that I could find my voice and, in turn, help other humans find theirs.

This is why it is important to allow our children and other loved ones to chase after what calls them and speaks to their soul. Every single tiny detail or decision made throughout our lives could completely change the trajectory of someone else’s life. This is what I think Mother Road is about: duality in life and finding healing within it. We are in control of the narrative of our lives even when we didn’t choose the plotline. And both concepts can exist at the same time. It's the seemingly delusional realization that we are all deeply connected yet completely separate depending on the choices we make, the perspectives we see, and potentially… the dimensions of the universe that we reside in.

My head hurts because I sobbed it so much of the last 48 hours.

It was so necessary though. "How can I know where I I'm going if I don't know where I've already been?"

I am the Savior and the saved. But it's okay if the Savior needs a little help sometimes, right?

There is a wise woman in my life I'm trying to reach out for some guidance. But it's going to take a leap of faith and then major trust and vulnerability.

Let's hope I didn't create false expectations in my mind and break my own heart like I always do. But this time it feels different....