What does it mean to live to the fullest? To truly be present and go after your dreams?
There are so many stories and examples of going after your dreams in the media, from movies, books, tv shows, plays, and musicals, the list goes one. Watching them from the safety of our screens is so easy. We might even feel inspired to go after our own dreams, or at least sing along to one of Disney’s popular ‘I want’ songs, like Part Of Your World, Let It Go, When Will My Life Begin.
The story typically goes like this: person really wants something, there’s some kind of obstacle, person makes a plan and get’s help, and person gets what they want.
Simple enough, right?
Well, let’s talk about the obstacle.
As kids, if we’re lucky, we get to experience freedom. We have a lot of time, a lot of support, and seemingly endless wealths of creativity. The adults in our lives ask us questions about what we want to be when we grow up, and do not blink an eye when we give them the most wildest dreams we could create. Our capacity to dream and explore is encouraged, and whenever we want to try to act on those things, they are often met with support.
And then we grow up, and as much as we try to hold on to that joy, it often gets muddied by responsibilities. Fears and anxieties about how we’re going to support ourselves and lead our lives come in full force. We might feel far more isolated than ever before, feel disconnected from the things that light us up, and lose sense of what our dreams even were.
At least, that was true for me. I got caught up in trying to keep up with what others wanted from me, what others expected of me. The idea of going to school for a job and a stable life with a family continuously glaring in my vision blinded me to any other possibility. But it always felt off, and instead of taking flight after college, I fell into one of the deepest depressions I’ve ever experienced.
In a word, I was hiding. Staying on my parents couch and eating their food and watching Spanish soap operas on Netflix was far safer than facing my truth - that i wasn't happy with myself, that I was unsure that I could even get a job, that I didn’t know if I even wanted any of it. I kept focusing on all of these awful stories about myself, stories I successfully tricked myself into believing.
I don’t know what it was that triggered the shift, but one night I shot up out of the couch and started searching through YouTube like my life desperately depended on it. I finally found it, a live cast recording from Dear Evan Hansen. As cliche as it was, this was the musical I needed to hear, a not so subtle reminder that I am not alone.
I’ve learned that the decisions we make on a daily basis, choices we might not even be conscious of, have long term impacts on our lives, and this knowledge makes decision making all the harder. But in this moment, making the decision to choose me, to choose anything else from the current reality I was living, rang so clearly. Within a couple of months I had a job in Chicago and I moved out.
Fast forward to now. I’ve worked at a few different jobs, and somewhere along the way, started to make my own music and share that too. I’ve created a new normal for me, one that ironically is ever shifting and changing.
I’ve been thinking a lot about personal courage, wondering if I really am living the life I want for myself. Sometimes I feel really certain of what I want out of life, and other times the idea of even thinking about what I want is too much for me.
I’ve spent a lot of time wondering if I’m even deserving of these things. On top of it, I’m often paralyzed into stillness and inaction by the overwhelm of making simple day to day decisions. This is precisely what I constantly need to quiet down.
What’s really awesome about a classic ‘i want’ song is the clarity and vision the characters have about what they want and need. This level of clarity is, I think, just the beginning of what you need to really take the big risks in your life. I think you also need a lot of love, and a lot of community. In the US, we are so splintered off and convinced of the awesomeness of our individuality. That’s fine, but I think that’s also kinda lonely.
One of the most important reasons listening to Dear Evan Hansen at 2 in the morning actually helped me get out of my rut was because it flooded me with memories and emotions. I remembered a time when I was actively part of a thriving, loving, creative community that worked together to make beautiful, once in a lifetime moments. I remembered how fulfilling those times were, and remembered the genuine joy I felt being a part of it, no matter how big or small of a role I played.
Looking back, being a part of theater and music and art communities is what helped me the most growing up. Depression and anxiety have been a part of my experience for as long as I can remember, but being a part of an artsy community has always helped me through it.
Something the Disney movies arguably need more of is a sense of is community. These characters have their vision, a friendly animal friend, and maybe one other person to help them get to their goals. But I have found that in the moments where I’ve needed the most support, (and I know this is really cliche) it has taken a village.
To be clear, I’m not knocking on best friends and significant others or partners or whatever. But I do believe there is humanity to everyone, and we each go through our unique ups and downs and we need to have a broader network of support for when it feels like everything is coming down. Could one person put together a back drop for the stage, go and tie every single tie by themselves and then safely get it hung? Maybe, but it’s largely ineffective. Hanging a scrim or backdrop when I was in theater was one of my favorite things. It required every single one of us to work together at the exact same time to make this possible.
It is together how we create the systems and cultures we live in, and we need to lean into this and be actively more loving and caring for one another if we are to ever hope to improve upon what’s already here and simultaneously improve our own lives.
When I set out to write this song, I didn't think about all of these things. I thought about how I felt, and how I lacked something important. It’s been in this process of releasing, sharing, and engaging with others through this song that I’ve come to understand myself and what this song means to me.
I intend to remember this feeling of belonging and connectedness as I continue in my day to day, wherever that takes me next. And you, my dear sunflower, in hope you join me.