Ok, I admit it. I watch American Idol. And I like it. I have to say, though, this year I started watching for quite a different reason than seasons past. Actually, I thought Idol would kind of suck without the crass honesty of Simon Cowell, because, after all, he was the only one who had the – um – kahunas — to tell the truth. And sometimes that was funny. But, I’ve found I’ve grown (up) a bit since last season, and I continue to watch for a different reason. I watch because I like to see people who have the guts to follow their dream. Because, if you think about it, it really is a pretty balls-y thing to do.
I must add here, I don’t actually watch A.I. to see the future Idol, either. Because when it comes down to it, I really don’t care who wins. They’re all winners to me. They all get up there, week in and week out, accept the challenge and follow their heart, use their gift. The reason I watch? To watch the judges.
Let me explain…
For some, Steven Tyler has been a heart throb for years (and a lot of them.) I always thought he was a bit of a mess. None of that “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy” for him, if you know what I mean. Just not my cup of tea. But I’ve seen something different than I thought since the season started, and I’ve grown to respect him as an artist. Words I never thought I’d utter, even on my best day… But, the guy’s got something not many others can say they do. He’s got soul. And he followed his dream. His calling. He took something he loved and not only made a huge career out of it, but an empire for himself and his family, albeit doing a lot of drugs and having a boatload of fun getting there. If you take a good look at him, though, you can see how he loves what he does. It’s not just for the money. It’s for the love of the game.
I love to watch when Tyler and Lopez feel the music… They close their eyes, almost fully but not quite, and tip up their chin, sort of like a child when he thinks you think he’s asleep. Their heads bob slightly, weaving back and forth, and they get a look on their face that says they’re in the zone… that place in their heart where they can feel each and every note… every beat… They lean in a bit, eyes still shut, cock their heads and breathe in slowly, like an Italian grandma taking a long dreamy whiff of the plate of fresh pasta she just toiled over for hours on end… It’s a knowing. A feeling. It’s more than we can see. I love seeing that in anyone.
And I have to say, at this point, this is the look I get when I’m thinking of the next sentence I’m going to write. I close my eyes and smile slightly, picturing the words that will come together as each letter is printed on the page. Knowing that, when I’m done, it will say what I need to say, what I want to say, what I can’t live without saying. I love to write. It’s just in me.
Which, if you’ve read me before you knew it was coming, brings me to my point. Over the past year, I was writing a book. Well, actually, I wrote a book. Not for everyone, it was more about internet marketing than anything else. The ins, outs, do’s, and don’ts. But I put my own spin on it and added in a touch of myself here and there… my own flair. Ok, who am I trying to kid. I was the STAR. Ha! And I tried for many months to get published. But, just as I watch each week a future Idol go home, I received each month a letter telling me …well… go home. And, although you’d never know it, I’m a pretty sensitive person, and each letter tore out a little piece of my soul until I gave up. So, I went back to my old job, my old business, helping other people with their businesses, doing the SEO for their websites, blah blah blah…
I lost that little piece of my heart that helped me feel the music.
You see, in the long run, I did the right thing. I went to college, graduated, got a job, again with the blah blah blah… and now I live for my family. And that’s ok. But until I picked up my pen again a few years back, more out of fury than for love, until I remembered what it feels like to ease back and decide what’s going to flow out onto the page, or fly into a fit of passion and let it all hang out, I totally forgot how to be Steven Tyler or Jennifer Lopez… I forgot how to close my eyes and feel it with my heart. Feel what I love to do. Just for me, and me alone (Oh, and of course, for your reading pleasure ; ) And then I realized, it’s not too late.
So I guess that’s the roundabout way of saying , I’m back. And I kinda like it.
Last week, when I shared with (almost a total stranger) that I was writing another book, she told me to just go for it. She said SEO and marketing would be like waitressing through college. It will let me eat. But when it comes down to it, if I did that all my life I’d just exist. Sure I like my life. I love my kids more than anything on Earth, love to watch them play soccer and softball… to watch my oldest row her heart out on the river. I love to teach them right from wrong and how to make choices, rejoice in their victories and learn from mistakes… But what’s in it for me? Where does that leave me when they do? Don’t I deserve to follow my own dream? Don’t you? Not such a selfish statement as a bold one. Think about it. I don’t have to stop doing what I’m doing now to follow my passion and do something I love. And neither do you.
The way I see it, the only thing that sets me apart from the American Idols of the world is they have the guts to go for it, and I’m sitting and wondering what if I did? So I am. And what if you did? Whatever you do now, did you say you wanted to do that when you were, like, five? When you were fifteen? When you finished High School and the world was at your feet and you had no bills to pay or anyone else to take care of but yourself? Isn’t there something that you just gave up on because it wasn’t realistic to anyone, to everyone (else,) but you? Something that makes you feel like, you?
I guess my point is, it’s never too late. Do what you want to do. Do it now. Be who you want to be. Be it now. Be the person your dog thinks you are (Had to throw that one in!) As I see it, I’ll waitress to eat. I’ll SEO to send my kids to school. But I’ll write to set myself free. And if I get really good at it, maybe I’ll even send a signed copy of my first real book to Simon Cowell. If I don’t, at least I’ll know I gave it my best shot. I’ll be my own Idol.
And at the risk of sounding like an idiot, I’ll say it. Maybe you should be your own Idol too? Something to think about…
Oh yeah… Hope you had a fantastic Easter, and you didn’t put all your eggs in one basket (… like that ties in here or anything…) Have a great week!
Be the best, screw the rest,
Laurie
Enter your first name and primary e-mail address below to receive notifications of new posts. Note: I hate spam as much as you do. I will never rent sell, or abuse your email address, ever. Pinky promise.
