The Way to Your Calling is Not A Straight Path

I’ve often been asked the question, “When did you know you wanted to be a singer?” I usually respond with, “I’m not sure. Ever since I can remember, I was a singer.”

My family would always say they knew I was happy when I would walk around the house singing at the top of my lungs. My brothers and sisters would usually end up yelling at me to stop, and probably rightfully so.

But why do I sing?

That’s the deeper question.

I’ve found the journey of the artist to not be an easy one. It’s doesn’t always seem to be a straight path. It evolves and grows and subtracts and meanders along the way.

But to know why we do what we do can be a powerful thing.

Awareness and acceptance have been my two key words as of late.

If you are like me and you have found the path to your calling to be unclear and winding at times, here are five seasons I see in my own journey looking back. I hope they are a reminder to you that you don’t have to know exactly where you’re going to know you’re on the right path.

Season One: Discovery. Inherent Love.

I sing because I’m happy.

I’ve always loved the moment in Sister Act 2 where Whoopie Goldberg’s character walks up to Lauryn Hill (“Rita” in the film) and says,

“I went to my mother who gave me this book called ‘Letters To A Young Poet’ Rainer Maria Rilke… A fellow used to write to him and say, ’I want to be a writer. Please read my stuff.’ And Rilke says to this guy, ‘Don’t ask me about being a writer. lf when you wake up in the morning, you can think of nothing but writing, then you’re a writer.’”

Take a minute and remember back to yourself at four or five—an age before you found yourself worrying about what others might want from you. What did you love to do?

These days, what do you wake up thinking about in the morning?

What keeps you up at night?

Perhaps these answers are pointing you in the direction of your calling.

Season Two: The Joy of Feeling Affirmed

I sing because I feel seen and loved.

I remember growing up in a small town in the middle of nowhere in Minnesota with an even smaller church, the ones with stained glass windows and pews.

I remember the first time I stood up in front of that congregation and sang. As a teenager, it was nerve-wracking and scary and addicting. I remember walking out into the foyer after one of those Sunday morning services and seeing the smiles and hearing the encouraging compliments from people I admired.

My heart felt so full.

What felt better than being seen and loved? I needed to have more of it.

Can you think back to a time when you felt seen and loved and acknowledged for something you brought to the relationship?

How could this be pointing you toward your calling?

Season Three: The Satisfaction of Doing Something Well

“I sing because it feels good to be good.”

My senior year of High School I was in a guys ensemble singing four part harmony to old classics like In the Still of the Night and Duke of Earl. Four of us had sung together for a few years at that point. From appearing at proms to singing the National Anthem at basketball games, we knew we were good.

It was probably confidence mixed with ego, but the inherent joy of being able to do something well was also quite addicting.

What are you really good at? What does it feel like to use those gifts?

How could this be pointing you toward your calling?

Season Four: The Allure and Appeal of External Success

“I sing because I feel important and successful.”

I remember moving to Nashville 6 years ago. I had been living in Kansas City for a few years at that point but felt frustrated because what I wanted to accomplish musically felt stunted in that city.

I found a home in Nashville amongst a group of creatives who were all doing what I wanted to be doing—writing songs, making records, taking risks.

When my last record came out, I began to feel some momentum in the world of external success.

People I admired in the music industry were commenting about my record.
Label executives were reaching out for meetings.
The record was climbing the iTunes charts.

The allure of success—or what the world defined as success—was a bit intoxicating. But what I found, ultimately, was that the allure of success kept pointing me back to one question:

Why was I doing this?

This might be a good question for you to ask yourself: why are you pursuing the path you’re pursuing? What’s the greater meaning?

What’s the purpose?

Season Five: The Reward of the Moment (or Music) Itself

I sing because I sing.

I remember watching an interview with American Singer/Songwriter John Mayer. He was commenting about his journey as an artist and said there’s a point where you realize the greatest reward is in the music itself.

It’s in this moment.

It’s us right here.

It’s the beauty of creating something together.

At different points in his career it was about the applause of the crowd or the allure of success, but at this point it was about the inherent joy of the music itself.

Maybe that’s what the full circle journey of the artist looks like – coming back to the realization that we create because it’s who we are. Past the changing moods, or applause, or success, this moment is enough.

This moment is everything. It’s the only thing.

What do you do for the love of it?