The age-old story goes like this.
The treasure, the princess, the map, the secret, the answer – whatever the hero is seeking – is locked inside the cave, the castle, the enchanted land. That prize is calling out to said Hero. It is the quest of a lifetime. Guarding the entrance is The Dragon.
The way our culture teaches it, the Hero must fight The Dragon. And win.
Well, that never worked for me. I would sit in that movie theater and find my senses overwhelmed. Of course I wanted the Hero to triumph, but the price I was paying as I sat through the film was the burning dread in my stomach, the clenching of my jaw, the stopping of my breath. Too much violence, the visual close-ups sending adrenaline shockwaves through my body, accompanied by the heart-thudding soundtrack.
This was not my story. So I re-wrote the ending.
(Spoiler alert: the re-write is what I want to teach to you.)
But first, let me introduce you to my personal Dragon.
I grew up an anxious and sensitive kid, an easy target. Other kids would tease me and I would freeze, defenseless. My insides would twist. Unable to imagine being mean enough to make fun of someone else, I felt it as betrayal.
In elementary school, whenever the teacher scolded the class and made us put our heads down on our desks, my bony elbows would feel bruised and sore resting on the cold wood, and I gagged as my nostrils were bombarded with the smell of paste, spilled milk, cleanser, and whatever else had contaminated its surface. I braced my skinny body in an attempt to tolerate the discomfort. Nobody else was complaining so I kept my mouth shut.
I often got sent to the nurse’s office with a stomach ache. I wasn’t sick. But I knew I didn’t feel good.
Anxiety, dread, doubt, fear. All these feelings simmering, a murky stew in my insides, yet I couldn’t identify them. I had no words for them.
Eventually, these emotions found their way into songwriting. Music became my life. By age 18, I was touring the country with my band, having just recorded our first album.
Age 35, married, now touring as a soloist, with several albums on my discography. On the outside, a success. On the inside, another story.
The stomach aches and nausea were a way of life. Almost two decades of fighting an eating disorder. The anxiety swelled and settled into a deep depression. I had chronic pain due to a neck injury. Living felt so difficult, I was alternately suicidal and numb. To keep up my performance and travel schedule, I ran on adrenaline. All of this capped by a fresh diagnosis of an incurable autoimmune disease.
Song: “The Undertow:” that wrote itself through me during that era:
On YouTube or
On Spotify
I had run out of doctors. Though most had been kind, nothing they did was helpful. I felt alone, angry, hopeless, and worn out…
Fast forward to 2022. It took time, but I uncovered for myself a path of healing. I am now in my late 60s. There were ups and downs along the way, and of course, there still are! As long as we keep on living, we will encounter more bumpy stretches along our path.
This course will focus specifically on how we navigate the places where it doesn’t seem possible to move forward. Which is where I was over thirty years ago. Your story? Yours doesn’t have to take as long as mine did.
If I did it, you can do it too, especially with me as your guide, teacher, Sherpa.