016 | Nothing Important Comes With Instructions
11:47 AM , Saturday
Hanging at a lake with my guitar.
Dear Friends,
First, welcome to everyone who signed up to be part of these Sunday Letters at my Boulder show this week! I'm glad you're here. :)
So something happened this week. A breakthrough.
A friend asked me on Friday, “How are you today?” I responded in earnest, that I was fantastic.
She had a grin on her face and she said she could tell, and that it was good to hear me say I was doing well. For so long, things have been really difficult, and my response to that question has been tinged with heaviness, but this week, something shifted.
I told her it’s like in the movies when they’re trying to find a server room somewhere, and in that room is a reset button. I’ve been running around this compound — my brain, my body, my spirit — trying to find this room. This week, I found it. I hit the reset button, and months of showing up led to a subtle, but major shift.
I woke up this past Thursday having a hard time focusing and collecting myself. I wrote in my journal that I needed a reset, and I think I hit the reset button in that moment when I declared that intention, and the rest of the day was the system rebooting.
Early in the morning, I came across a thought from James Richardson that grabbed me,
“Nothing important comes with instructions.”
WOW. Okay. I sat with that thought throughout the day and let it work in me.
In the afternoon, I got a text from my friend Sterling. He had an idea he wanted to run by me and asked if I was free to meet up short notice. Sterling is one of those friends I make time for no matter what. I believe in him. He believes in me. We spur each other on and he’s someone who challenges me to show up. So an hour later we met up for coffee.
Chatting with a friend about ideas and how to make a way for what we believe and our art was motivating and so energizing. I was able to give him some clarity with his idea and he gave me clarity with how I needed to move forward.
As I walked away from that conversation, I got this MASSIVE IDEA about how to move forward. I was giddy with excitement about it, but as I worked it out, I realized it wasn’t going to work, and suddenly, I felt deflated and more lost than before. Unsettling questions filled my mind.
What the hell am I doing? How am I ever going to make a living creating art? Is that even the goal? Will I ever not struggle to provide for myself and make art I believe in? Is that part of the deal? Am I okay with that? Am I ever going to have a place to call my own? What the hell am I doing with my life?
(“Nothing important comes with instructions.”)
I was overwhelmed, but I was also leaning in. I put my headphones in and started to walk around Denver. I didn’t try to answer all the questions swirling like a hurricane around me. I let myself settle in the stillness of the eye.
As I walked, a song started to form. I ended up writing an entire new song on my phone.
I didn’t have any answers. I didn’t know yet how I needed to move forward, but I was being with what was there.
(“Nothing important comes with instructions.”)
That night, I ended up hanging with my friend, Kelsey. Kelsey is one of those people who always makes time for me. A human who is helping me believe in a lot of things again. She’s one of those people that creates a safe space to process without judgement, yet calls me to rise up and be the best version of myself. She listens, but doesn’t let me off the hook.
As I walked her through my day, all the wondering and questions and things still unresolved stirred again.
But then we started to ask other questions. Questions centered on belief and values and what is important to me.
(“Nothing important comes with instructions.”)
What are you working for? What does success mean to you? And the thing that made it click was a twist Kelsey put on an Annie Dillard quote. She said,
How you live today, will be the way that you live your whole life.
The way she said it dropped a bomb in my brain and when the dust settled, I was reminded of the mystery and power in how we live each day, while also remembering it’s about playing the long game and remembering the direction I am going.
I left our conversation feeling a need to collect the day and hold it all. I went to one of my favorite spots, The Arvada Tavern, and as I sat there, everything from the day started to coalesce into words and action. Language and legs.
I sat there and wrote a contract with myself about how I wanted to move forward. I made a promise to myself. I stamped it with a pineapple stamp from The Tav, dated it, and signed it.
It’s only a few days later, but I can honestly say each day from that Thursday has been so different. There’s a new resolve. A new determination. It wasn’t contrived. It wasn’t forced. It unfolded.
And why did it unfold? How is possible to truly feel different? To have new perspective and energy?
I’m not totally sure, but I think it has to do with showing up and being with whatever is there each day … coming as you are and allowing whatever is in front of you to be as it is, subject to subject … and somehow the sum of those days and the presence and attention brought there lead to something … maybe writing your own instructions, one line at a time.
Much love to you all,
—Shel
Human to Human is out!
Have you heard the new EP yet? It's been out in the world a little over a week now. I wrote, produced, engineered, and mixed it all myself, something I've never done before, and I AM SO DAMN PROUD OF IT. I'd love for you to have a listen.
