Transitions & Reinventions
"I Can Still Change" by Lake Street Dive
As 2018 gasped its death rattle, I stood, second row at the Wang Theater, breathing in the melodies and lyrics of Lake Street Dive. Introduced to the talents of this ensemble about a year ago, New Year's Eve marked my second time attending one of their live performances. The full house holiday chaos (drunkenness and drama) dampened my experience a bit, and still, the band was groovy. Two songs, unexpectedly, stood out for me. Prior to this show, neither tune hooked me - maybe I wasn't ready for them. Curiously, they both focused on the notion of change.
A few days before ringing in the new year, I finally caught the film, Bohemian Rhapsody. Queen never spoke my language. When they were in their heyday, I was listening to Donna Summer and Journey - neither possessed the forward edge of Queen. While the movie was great in so many ways, I found one aspect stuck with me. This band embraced the concept of weird. They strutted quirks and celebrated risk. Again and again, they reinvented their sound, bringing the crowds morsels they never knew they were missing, until Queen created them. With talent and a devotion to allowing space for what each member could uniquely contribute to the whole, the story of this band reminded me of an important lesson:
Each person has something of particular value to offer to the world. And it is the responsibility of every one of us, to expand, take risks, stretch outside our comfort zone into the weird...into the odd...into the unknown, so that we may manifest the fullness of who we are. The unknown is where the magic happens, and our courage is required to step into it.
How do these encounters with Lake Street Dive and Queen link? For me, they are married through the vulnerability. When we choose to change, whether it's a new style of clothing; a decision that speaking emotional truth is imperative, and acting on it; hiring support to climb to a new level; feeding the body, mind, and spirit truly nourishing morsels, instead of the "junk food" it's patterned to accept; leaving a job, marriage, friendship, mentor, or business group that asks you to stay as you once were, rather than accepting the YOU you are becoming, we risk the vulnerability of judgment. When we willingly step into this unknown, I believe our essence - that spark within - is both insistent, and a far more reliable guidance system, than our inner terrorist induced fear.
Trying on a new way of entering the world, as Queen did when they included opera in their rock music, portends that some folks won't approve. You might be shunned. You may experience a kind of insane, warped reality, because how could the world not see that you are called to this next shift? Within, despite the fear, you're so clear...even when you have no idea where it will lead...you just know that this one step is necessary. That's the magic of you in action. No one else can be who you are...who you are meant to be...contributing the energy that YOU uniquely offer. It's not about a doing, it's about truly being you.
"Shame, Shame, Shame" by Lake Street Dive
Just as the seasons change and our bodies change with age, we, too, are meant to shift, grow, and transition. In the Lake Street Dive video posted at the top, the lyrics speak of choosing to change, even with all the doubt and stories we've been told (and in turn, listen to repetitively in our heads). This second song offers a different perspective. At about the 2:42 mark, they simply sing again and again about how change is coming. All of the ways we might try to keep the status quo going, won't hold back the very nature of being - which means, ride the wave or sputter in the drink.
Sometime this past year, my husband turned me on to Rob Bell. I listened to a few of his RobCasts, and I'd get a noteworthy nibble here and there. Then, I listened to "The Good Grief." I loved this one. I encourage you to hear the message in his voice. The gist is this: change - even positive change -inherently means losing something, and loss requires grief.
I imagine Queen lost some fans as they changed up their style through the years, and yet, they remained true to themselves (even with the various kinds of chaos that ensued). I know I have lost friends and community, when I've made changes that didn't suit the dynamic, and yet the reinvention allowed me to be more me. When a person loses weight, gets married, lands the dream job, births the longed-for child, or sends a completed work of creativity out into the world, each of these remarkable changes appear positive, and they are! Still, that favorite shirt swims on the new form; the washing machine is no longer exclusively yours; you might miss friends from your last job; you may wish for a night of sound sleep; or you note, entering your creative space, a bit of longing for the familiar invention. Welcoming the inevitable grief from these losses - no matter how wonderful the change may be - to be felt, honored, and attended to, is a way of loving yourself through the change you manifest.
This love I speak of is the acceptance of things and people as they are. It is a remarkable gift to see, with clarity, what is before you, and accept the truth of what is. You may not like it. Discomfort may arise. You may experience a deep well of sadness. And you might tell yourself that you "shouldn't" feel the loss when you've gained so much. Still, it's a part of the process, and the love of accepting that truth, sprinkles a balm of gentleness on the wound of loss.
So, with the new year, I encourage you to: get still (silence the mind), set your intention (what is the feeling experience you desire?), and surrender control of the outcome (don't try to shape the magic or attach to what it must look like in the end). Then, armed with your clear intention and willingness to be vulnerable, embrace your weirdness and change something that allows you to be more you. When you do, know that you will experience some kind of loss, and allow the grief and love to heal the wound, readying you for the next transition and reinvention. I believe this is the path to being the most YOU, and I celebrate that!
With love and ongoing reinvention,
Joanne Lutz