Locked In The Shadows

For decades, I kept my music hidden—afraid to fully express myself to the world. This fear and doubt lived not only in my mind but also in my body. This made performing—playing and singing—difficult due to the tension I held around letting go and feeling free in my art, the way I felt when I started playing and singing back when I was 15 years old.

For years, I found excuses for why I wasn’t "ready", for why my music wasn’t “good enough”. But I was holding back, I was holding on to something.

I told myself I could wait, that I needed more time—to refine my craft, to get better, to *feel *ready.

But if I kept waiting to feel ready, I might never start.

In my earlier days, music was *the *thing I wanted to do. I put together a band, wrote songs, played shows, studied music and audio engineering.

I was all in but issues with mental health derailed me for years.

As I approached my 40s, I started feeling the pinch. I knew I had to make a change.

At 39, just a year ago, I pushed myself to get out to some open mics. After a few months of playing covers, I started performing originals and experimenting with my voice more (that's an ongoing journey).

It was at an open mic that I met my incredible girlfriend (of 1-year)—and a huge supporter of me and my music!

All of these steps along the way strengthened my resolve to release a track on Spotify, the seed for which I planted in my mind one year ago.

I knew I wanted to put my skills to the test and write and record a unique, polished song that I could use to launch my career and find other opportunities in the music world.

I also knew that if I didn’t start putting my music out into the world now, I might never. The fear of never having tried scared me more than the fear of failing/looking stupid, so I committed to releasing a polished song.

Expectations

When I set out to write and produce The Road Again— a song about the search, the struggle—a part of me hoped it would trigger some big external shift. Maybe it would lead to some paid work or a bit of exposure. And it still may—that’s up to me to decide. The work is out there if you hustle.

Deep down, perhaps I was hoping for some positive recognition, validation, and maybe even a more complete sense of self. Faintly, I imagined that reaching this milestone would magically solve some of my problems.

But after I released the track, not much on the outside changed (yet). The sky didn’t part. My problems weren’t magically erased in some strange stroke of luck.

I shared the song with family, friends, and colleagues and got some kind, lovely, encouraging words!—but that was it.

The outside was still there doing what it does best: giving me exactly what I give it.

However, something on the inside started to shift.

The thing I had feared doing for years had already happened. My music was out there. The feelings I had carried for so long—the anticipation, the expectation, the fears, the hesitation, the perfectionism—all of that began to shift. And while my music may not change the world, pursuing this milestone has changed me.

Changing Worlds

After the release, I shared the track with everyone I could think of—this time with a new energy, without worrying if they'd like it.

I sent it to my old songwriting mentor and friend, Rik Emmett from Triumph. In an email, I wrote, “It may not change the world but it's a start.”. My modest attempt at being profound.

His response galvanized a suspicion I sensed within me:

“...as you say, a strong start towards changing the world. Changes YOUR world: that’s a great thing. Cheers R”

The more I thought about it, the more it sunk in.

The real transformation wasn’t in the external world—it was in how I *saw *myself. I was no longer someone who was just waiting to take the next step. I was someone who *did *take the next step. I had thrown my hat in the ring and as silly as it might seem to some, releasing my song on streaming is the catalyst for the *next *step, and the *next *step, and the next step, and you get the point.

“Practice any art, no matter how well or badly, not to get money and fame, but to experience becoming, to find out what’s inside you, to make your soul grow." ⎯ Kurt Vonnegut

Thanks to Zach Heyde for introducing me to this quote.

This quote perfectly captures how I’ve felt since realizing that it is through creating that we can transform our inner landscapes, helping our soul to grow.

And when the internal world shifts, so does the external. That's how you slowly change the world.

But transformation through art doesn’t just heal the soul—it heals the body, too.

Tension and Release

I’ve always carried a lot of tension in my body and if you are a singer, you know that tension isn’t good. Fear, doubt, and perfectionism—they all lived in my voice and played havoc with my singing. But recording The Road Again became an exercise in letting go.

With each take, I felt something release—both physically and emotionally.. My voice started to sound different, more natural. My mind and body—through mindfully sitting with and processing the mental/emotional tension—were releasing layers of tension I held deep within for years. The more I leaned into this shift, the more open and full I became.

I must have sung the song two hundred times, caught in the net of my perfectionism but also chasing that feeling of ease, authenticity, and discovery. Each take brought me closer to finding my true voice, and helped me discover what I was unconsciously holding onto in my body.

In the end, I stitched together parts of the vocal from different times to capture both the rawness and the transformation I had felt in the process. I decided I wanted to be as authentic as I could be while preserving the spirit of the song. How well I succeeded in that, I'll let the listener decide.

But just by taking the step, something inside me unlocked.

I’m excited to try and relive this experience as I approach recording my follow-up release, Hidden Gold—the title track of my music project.

Instead of fearing what’s next, I’m excited for it. I still have goals I want to achieve, but now, I’m just as focused on the growth and transformation that come with them.

And while the inner changes have been powerful, releasing this song has naturally led to external growth, too.

In the days and weeks after the release, my minds been alight with new ideas for how I can continue to expand my reach like reaching out to playlist curators, connecting with similar minded artists (thank you Spotify artist radio). I'm even considering making a lyric video 🤨.

Taking action on this personally meaningful goal has led to unexpected opportunities, paving the way forward. As the saying goes, "You can't always see ten steps ahead, but you can always see the next step."

Releasing The Road Again is showing me the way.

It's About Growth

Taking the next step—whether in music or something else—isn’t about perfection or “finding” the right moment. And it’s not about external validation.

It’s about courage. It’s about momentum. It’s about growth.

It’s about becoming the kind of person who follows their path, no matter how imperfect it might feel.

Every act of courage is an investment in yourself. Every act of creativity is setting in motion a new experience in your life which allows you to grow. And when you push yourself to grow—despite the fear, the doubt, the uncertainty, the risk and fear of embarrassment—that’s where the real transformation begins.

You never know what change you might set in motion—both in the world around you and within yourself—but any action is better than no action if change and growth is what you're after.

The Road Again likely won’t change the world. But it has changed me. And maybe that’s all a creative person can hope for—for their art to be a catalyst for greater personal growth, inside and out.

Releasing a song on Spotify. Anybody can do that.

But it’s not the what that counts, it’s that you did the thing and that’s where the growth lies.