Lately I’ve felt compelled to indulge in some cyber hibernation. That is to say, I woke up in May to an intense feeling of internet over-exposure, like my life was no longer my own. In response I chose, rather subconsciously, to mostly refrain from twittering, blogging and Facebook updates…. and some days from my email inbox. We were gone almost all of May, and keeping up with the online world while touring can be an added dose of exhaustion in an already exhausting enterprise. David is not this way. He takes every chance he can get to be online, it’s restful to him.
It’s an interesting thing, these here internets. As an artist, a whole new world is opened up, an avenue for connecting with fans like never before. And I like the leveling of the playing field. After all, I’m just a girl like every girl. But sometimes there can be such a thing as too much access. After all, I’m just a girl, like every girl. The music industry is anti-hibernation. There is an underlying belief that if you take your name/face/music out of the game even for just a moment, that people will move on to the next shiny thing they see and forget about you. And I could center my whole life on that nonsense- defined by the approval of others. Or, I could step back when I feel compelled to in the interest of self-care, trusting that even if this fickle old world goes on without me, I will survive.
So I guess I’m writing today to once again say, “Hello.” And I’m sure we will return to our regularly scheduled programming shortly. But until then, I’ll see you when I poke my head out. Which might be sooner than you think.
I considered just publishing that as a starting place. It’s been a while. Maybe you noticed. Maybe you could care less. Maybe you’ve chastised me like my mother did yesterday. Maybe you’re patient and full of grace. Maybe you gave up on ever hearing from me again, removing me from your Google reader. Maybe you’re just shaking your head like my publicist, PapaRobC.
Truth? Whatever you’re doing or not doing is okay by me. Go, be, do, frown, read, wait, don’t, shake, smile. Whatever. Just be free. That’s what I’m trying to do over here in cyber-silence.
My last “real” post was a survey if you will. A question. A quandary, a dilemma. A seekers plea. I was polling the audience, using a lifeline. I asked you what you do for nurture.
Truth? I’m still processing your answers. And it was rude of me to not thank each of you for taking such time, consideration and kindness in your responses. But I can do that now. Thank you. Yes, you too.
My therapist suggested I asked the wrong question. He invited me to ask you “What is nurture?” Answer if you will as I am curious to know.
I can feel the plates of my inner-earth shifting these past few months. I’m not in a place of digging in, but of waiting for the coming changes. I know they are coming. I don’t know what all the changes are. But I know some of them are beautiful. And beauty or not, I shall learn from them all. Some days you wake up on a fault line. I am learning to accept this as life’s truth, and take life on life’s terms.
I am typing in code. Short and long dashes. Heaps of hope and heart. Maybe you speak my language.
I have been reading a couple of books I anticipate sharing more about in future posts: Women, Food & God by Geneen Roth and Spilling Open: The Art of Becoming Yourself by Sabrina Ward Harrison. They both have me broken open in new ways I am not ready to write about….yet.
But I’d like to leave you with a quote from Spilling Open, to whet your appetite:
“So much of my growing up has been spent trying to figure out who I am and accept who I am and perhaps even love who I am. Unfortunately I have noticed that I spend a lot of time comparing myself to other young women my age, watching for traits they possess that I feel I lack. It’s very EXHAUSTING.
But I seem to keep comparing and desiring (”needing”) more and wanting less. When do i stop and be Sabrina the way I am? When do I stop and believe that I AM ENOUGH as I am? With all the parts of me that feel ‘too small’ or ‘too lumpy’ or ‘too quiet’ or ‘not edgy’ or ‘too deep feeling’ TOO TOO TOO TOO.
I must ask myself ‘What am I trying to be that I already AM?’
If I don’t love those parts of me (the tucked in, sucked in silent parts…) I think it will be a very SAD journey… and a pathetic waste of time.
I am actually interested in feedback here. Healthy nurture is hard for me. I am good at offering it to others, but come up short when it comes to finding the grace to give it to myself. This is not a new blog topic for me, by any means. But this time I am truly wanting to hear from you.
How do you fit caring for yourself into your time-starved life?
My whole life changed when we went out on the road full-time. In most ways, touring was a dream come true. The exception for me, the point at which touring is not a dream, is in the struggle to take care of myself while on the road. I have been using touring as an excuse for putting myself really far down on the list for almost two years now. And the truth is, touring is my new normal, and I desperately want to learn how to be kind to myself in the confines of this new lifestyle.
So, I am using a lifeline, polling the audience- you- for answers. I don’t have everything figured out, not even close actually. I am willing to admit that the struggle to choose healthy nurture over false nurture currently feels insurmountable. But I know it’s possible. It has to be.
What nurtures you? It could be a walk, a nap, a journal, a cup of tea, a prayer. I really am inviting your comments. When you have to make a choice in the midst of the craziness of your circumstances, how do you choose what’s good for you in the long-term vs. what’s feels, tastes, & looks like comfort in the now? I look forward to hearing your thoughts. Thanks friends.
I found my first true friend in 10th grade. Well, she kind of found me. Her name is Lauren, and we are in it for the long haul. We’ve seen each other through thick and thin, and there is an unspoken understanding between us that neither one of us is going anywhere. I could call her at 3 am in a crisis, and she could do the same. We don’t live in a world where either of us really needs to invoke the 3 am call, but there’s a knowledge that if the call needed to be made, a voice would be on the other line. A voice that loves and accepts.
Lauren is different than the typical girl I have historically sought out for friendship. We are polar opposites in some respects, and alike in others. She is even keel and doesn’t typically go into things based on strong emotion. She loves the comfort of home- and has known since we were young that she wanted to raise her family in Oklahoma. She is a germ-phobe and luckily can afford a housekeeper. She is a teeny-tiny, size 2 and was very well-liked in school. She has two beautiful children, and is a fantastic mom. She doesn’t favor drama and conflict. And so, our friendship is low-maintenance and virtually drama-free. It’s one of the most lovely relationships in my life.
I find that I have an increasingly deep appreciation for the ease of friendships like the one I have with Lauren. The older I get, the less B.S. I am inclined to put up with. Life is short, after all. I used to believe that all friendships lasted forever. I am a golden retriever type- loyal to the core. And yet I have often found myself bending over backwards in certain friendships where the efforts weren’t reciprocated. A good part of that stems from the fact friends did not come easily for me as a young girl. And as I have said here before, I longed to fit in. I was desperate for it. It surprises me when i recognize that desperation rearing it’s head. I am thankful for the awareness I have now which allows me to take a step back and examine what’s really at the root of my “need.” No, I am not perfect. I often find myself with hurt feelings before I am aware enough to step back. But the learning curve is getting shorter all the time. And I am grateful for progress, not perfection.
I used to feel as though accumulating friendships, lots of them, somehow increased my worth. But the truth is, with all the world hands us, if we can manage to love a few people well in this life, I think we are doing a great job. And true friends are rare. I hope this makes sense to someone out there.
I couldn’t sleep last night. I knew I would wake up and March 2nd would finally be here… and the anticipation was just a bit too much for me. Orchid is being released today- it’s her birthday. Yes, the album is a girl. If you’ve met her, you already know this as true. We don’t have any kids… yet. But we have music that we create and let out into the world. You can’t imagine the labor of love that is imagining, writing, recording, producing, packaging, and marketing a record. It’s a monumental task. And now she’s here… Orchid. And I am a proud, proud mama.
I am AMAZED that less than a year ago we went into the studio with Will Hunt (who got props at http://www.rollingstone.com today by the way… Go Will!), that was such a dream for me. It seems like so much has happened in the past year and at the same time it seems like we were in the studio yesterday. Why is that exactly? I digress….
Side-note: Not only is Orchid releasing officially today, but we are also unveiling the new http://www.kcclifford.com website. Our friends Nathan & Brian (affectionately known in our closest circle as “The Fifth Beatle” and “Genius 1 & Genius 2″), made the hope of this incredible new site a real thing. And needless to say, they did NOT get paid what they are worth… because I couldn’t afford them. It has been such a fun little adventure imagining what I would want if I could have anything on the site, and then seeing them actualize that. Y’all think me getting up to sing my little folk songs is amazing… I think html code and design are extraordinarily amazing! Thank you, thank you, thank you Nathan & Brian! We love you so and your friendship is a great treasure!
Orchid could not have happened without the extravagant generosity of my friends… The Generous Friends have banded together and rallied behind this album in the most humbling, beautiful way. And I had you generous souls in my heart’s eye every step of the way- hoping against hope that I would be a good steward of the resources with which you entrusted me, and that I would make you proud to be a part of it. I’ve never been so sure of what I was put on this earth for as I am when I think about the creative work Orchid embodies.
I hope you’ll raise a glass with me and toast as we celebrate Orchid, our new arrival. I have great anticipation of all she’s meant to do in the world. To Orchid. Ching, ching. And to you for making the dream of her a reality. Hear, hear, you dear generous friends. Hear, hear.
Ten years ago today, I met my sweet husband David. We were at the Galileo open mic on an unseasonably warm Thursday in February. Despite the fact I had always said, “I’m not the kind of a girl that a boy would cross a room to meet,” he crossed the room to meet me. And the path of our lives were forever changed for the better. That would be the first in a lifetime of moments where he challenged what I believe about myself.
It’s hard to explain what it’s like to be loved by such an amazing man. I am confident that I’m the luckiest girl in the world to be the one he chose. Every day he reminds me how I deserve to be treated. There are many moments when I expect frustration from him and I’m met with kindness, patience, gentleness. He moves through our relationship with an uncanny tenderness. I often talk about how I’m learning to be kinder to myself. His love demonstrates this to me in the most extraordinarily ordinary ways, in daily mundane circumstances. David makes me want to be the best possible version of myself- not in a perfectionist way, but a lovely human way.
Rarely a show goes by that an audience member doesn’t comment about how David watches me when we’re on stage. People think I don’t know. But I do. That’s how he looks at me every day when I wake up in the morning and each night when we go to bed. And after ten years, I still light up when he walks in the room, too.
So today, I just want to honor him by letting the world know what kind of man he is. He is a man among men.
I love this photo taken of us by Neale Eckstein backstage at the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival last summer.
I look forward to all the decades to come for us to share. David Christopher Broyles, my sweet husband, I adore you and I love you. I am the luckiest.
Growing up I longed to fit in. I just wanted to be “normal”, whatever that means. But I was a fish out of water. I went to a socially cut-throat private school from K-12. My graduating class boasted a whopping 46 students, 23 of whom had been my classmates since kindergarten. Needless to say, we lacked variety. Most of my earliest playmates were the children of my parents’ friends. Not really kids I chose to hang out with, just the ones I was thrown in with by default.
I often say I was a dork in school. And that is still true- I was. I also openly admit to being a dork now. That has not changed either. But in school, I was the girl who was on the fringe of the popular kids. I was invited by familial default, and later excluded by design. I didn’t come into my own until my 20’s, so in my years as an awkward middle and high-schooler, I looked to others to define who I was. I was certain they knew the answer to all my questions about myself. And I wanted “their” stamp of approval and acceptance. Oh the elusive “they.” Some days I wish I had been a complete outsider, and maybe that would have forced me to find my own way sooner. But I know that plight comes with it’s own brand of suffering, too. And the grass is always greener, right?
It’s funny (in a sad funny kind of way) how I still feel the aftershocks of those school years. And they crop up without warning. This weekend, David and I are in Florida at the 30A Songwriters Festival. I didn’t know what to expect because we’ve never been to this festival before. Actually, no one has because this is the first year for the festival. There have been a couple of welcome/kick-off parties for the artists. The festival organizers have really worked to make us feel welcome. We went to a party the other night and I found myself spinning. It was one of those moments where my brain said, “Look around, K.C. Everyone here already knows each other. And you don’t know anyone. What are you going to do, walk up to strangers and try to fit in? Good luck with that.” So I stood frozen (figuratively and literally because the party was outdoors).. but mostly frozen in my fear, which is an awful captor.
And here are two truths I never remember in moments like that party:
1. Everyone is scared. Every single one of us is scared of something, and we’re often scared of each other, and too scared to admit it. What a racket we’ve created for ourselves. We are so good at keeping up appearances, that we fool each other into believing our own bullshit smoke and mirrors act. No one has it all together. And if I could figure out how to cut through my fear and all the mind-numbing small talk at functions like that, I might actually engage in a conversation that reveals we are all very much the same. And I am willing to bet most of those “popular” artists at the party were flying by the seat of their pants, too. Smiling through the fear. Faking it till they made it. Maybe even Sam Bush and Indigo GirlsEmily Saliers felt that way. But I was too scared to talk to them, so I don’t know. I might be in the wrong business. No, that’s just crazy talk.
2. The second truth is no less important. I was never meant to fit in at all. I played a show with some lovely ladies in Atlanta this past week: Rebecca Loebe, Alexa Woodward, and Lauren Lapointe. We played in the round, so we were all on stage at once. Rebecca sat next to me, and at one point, I glanced down at her pedal tuner. (A little box on the floor that helps us tune our guitars.. we step on the tuner to make it work, thus it’s a pedal. Okay lesson over..) Rebecca had written on her tuner in Sharpie, and it said “RADIATE!” in a big fun font. So every time she looks down at her pedal to tune her guitar, she has this reminder to stand out, be different, shine. I am not sure what I found so appealing about the status quo, but the reality is I was meant to radiate, not imitate. I guess in some ways I’m afraid of myself. Afraid of all I’m meant to be. Thanks for the reminder, Rebecca. I needed that.
I am going to leave you with this quote, which I first heard in the movie Akeelah and the Bee. I am sucker for a good spelling bee flick.
it is our light not our darkness that most frightens us
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous,
talented and fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world.
There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other
people won’t feel insecure around you.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other people
permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
-Marianne Williamson
Go on… shine your light bright. You know you want to.
I’m having deja-vu. We are on currently on a two-week mid-west/east coast tour. In order to really understand the scope of this entry, you might want to read this one first, if you haven’t already.
Okay, now that we’re all on the same page, allow me to proceed. I’ll get back to the deja-vu part momentarily. The top 10 highlights (and low points) of our tour have gone something like this:
1. Awake at 3:45 am to load up & drive to Indianapolis in time for a gig that night. Despite the 4 hours of sleep, we are troopers and our marriage harmony is in no way threatened by our having to work as a team with sleep-deprivation. Leave OKC at 5 am.
2. As we stroll into Tulsa on the Turnpike, the car starts acting up. Although I am putting on the brakes, the speedometer decides to grow a mind of its own and takes the RPM gauge with it. While we are not moving, the car reads 70 + mph and 6000 RPMs. Because the car seems to be functioning properly other than the gauges on the dash, we gratefully deduce this is an electrical issue and drive on. Thankfully, Samantha, our GPS tells us how fast we’re going, so we’ve used her as our speedometer for the remainder of the trip thus far.
3. Speaking of names, we were encouraged in the midst of the car troubles on Wed. that we needed to bestow a name upon our vehicle. This way when we are white-knuckling our way across the country with no time to spare, we can pat her on the head (read: dash) and say “Come on _____, don’t die on me now.” This topic provided us hours of entertainment on our drive Wednesday. And after much deliberation, we decided that her name is Dottie June, Dottie for short. Dottie is based on an abbreviation since she is our personal Department Of Transportation. And adding the June on the end just sounds southern and cute when I say it.
4. The gig on Wednesday night went great. We met new friends and connected with old ones. I even got my new friend Sylvia to sing along to the Barbie song, which was a real coup. We were grateful to everyone who came out with the pending weather, and especially Rhonda who flew in from Oklahoma City just to go to the show with her family in Indiana! Now that’s a generous friend!
5. We stayed the night with some friends of mine from my Nashville days. Sleep was a welcome activity. On Thursday morning I set my alarm early and moved some furniture in order to get in a workout. My in-laws gave me some Biggest Loser DVD’s for Christmas, and I was proud of myself for getting up after such a long day before. As you know, I am trying to turn over a new leaf on my life as a touring artist who cares about her health. So, putting myself on the list was a victory! With the morning came a significant snowstorm. I think after surviving the Oklahoma City Christmas Blizzard of 2009, we weren’t really scared of the storm. In retrospect, maybe we should have been more mindful. But hindsight is always 20/20. We were scheduled to play a show in West Virginia that night, and the drive was 8 hours. We thought we left in plenty of time, but as soon as we got out on the roads, we learned the error of our ways. Traffic was extremely slow-going and the roads were far less than ideal. Instead of traveling the interstate speed limits, we could only go 40-50 mph. We watched as our arrival time in WV got further and further behind schedule on the GPS. Outside of Dayton, Ohio traffic came to a stand still. We sat in the same spot for an hour and a half. Later the news would tell us that tragically, a tractor-trailer skidded across the median into oncoming traffic, hitting a bus carrying special needs adults- killing 3 of them and their bus driver. So sad. Realizing there was no way for us to make the gig in time, and no reason to stay on the roads considering the danger, we turned across the median and went back to the next exit to regroup. After a look at the atlas, we called one of my best college friends, Whitney, who live in Cincinnati with her husband and twp precious girls. Always the gracious host, she offered us shelter with open arms. Nothing like a couple of unplanned house guests!
6. We were supposed to go from West Virginia to DC to visit for a day or two with our dear friends who moved to Belgium this year. Our change in plans rendered that leg of our trip a no-go. We were really bummed, but it didn’t make sense to get on the roads at that point. I guess that means we’ll definitely have to tour Belgium this year to make up for it!
7. Being at Whitney and Jason’s house was a real treat. We got some much needed rest, and David nursed the cold he woke up with on Thursday morning. On Friday I went for a 5 mile run on Whitney’s treadmill and tacked on part of a Biggest Loser Power Sculpt DVD for good measure. We even got a little work done in the afternoon. It was nice to just be and catch up with old friends, and we had some fantastic pizza from a local place called Marco’s.
Whitney, my sweet friend from college days at IU.
8. Friday night after the girls were in bed, we adults were playing Mad Gab in the basement. (Which by the way, David is the Ultimate Mad Gab Master.. it’s kind of freakish how good he is at it.) Jason and I ran upstairs to get some snacks. On my way down, I slipped on the top step and fell all the way down their basement stairs. Certainly not my most graceful moment. I went down on my back the whole way, and it all happened so fast I just couldn’t stop the momentum. Honestly, it was pretty scary. I was shocked at first, and did the checking to make sure all my limbs & parts were still attached in their proper places thing. Although there was significant pain in my back, I quickly determined I still had feeling in my legs (which is ALWAYS a reassuring feature). Other than the back pain and a gash on my left hand that was bleeding, I was okay. Considering the distance I traveled, I think I made out like a bandit. Some serious divine intervention was involved in that, I presume.
9. Due to the stair incident, I am glad to be in motion at all, but have for the time being been rendered unable to work-out. This is a very frustrating turn of events.
10. On Sunday morning, we left Cincinnati and drove to Pittsburgh, PA for a lovely house concert with our friend Brad Yoder and an under-confident local named Mark Williams who should have CD’s out, but he doesn’t. There is a prevalence of folks who grew up in the Mennonite/Amish culture in the area. Although the people we met are not necessarily practicing the same lifestyle as the homes they were raised in, they carry a spirit about them that is charged with community, simplicity, hospitality, and a love of the earth. I am milling over some of these observations about which I may post at a later date. needless to say, it was a refreshing experience to be among them. This morning I recorded a background vocal part for Brad’s new CD, to be released later this year. I got to sing on 4 songs on the record, and I hope you’ll check it out…. Now we are en route Annapolis, MD for a show tonight and we’re hoping the weather will get WARMER from here!
Here’s a view from my seat through Dottie’s dashboard window:
So the highlight section was longer than I intended, but at least you’re caught up. Now let’s get back to the deja-vu.
Last winter my gallbladder surgery derailed what I felt was forward progress towards my health goals. But as I’ve said before, I was not kind to myself during that time. So in reality, my reaction to my health problems derailed my forward progress towards the even larger & way more important goal of loving and offering kindness to myself. The stair incident this weekend has me feeling some old familiar things. I am impatient with my body and this process. I was so focused on implementing health into this tour and really having a great go of it this time, that my back injury has me spinning a bit.
Historically, I have been an all or nothing kind of girl. And this weekend, I found that my tendency was to just throw in the towel on my health. Part out of frustration, part out of my own lack of kindness towards the process. When one thing goes “wrong” with my perfect little plan, I tend to just give up on the whole deal. Fear of failure is in there somewhere, I know. You’d think that when I am unable to work out, I would be more mindful of my food choices to balance it out. But typically, not so much. I think it’s even worse because there’s a sadness or even grief over my unmet expectation of having a successful trip in terms of workouts. So I want to eat those emotions too.
And the truth is, reality is, that my back is hurt. And I need to be kind to myself and offer myself grace and compassion. I don’t need to be working out while I’m hurt. I need to be kind. I even feel guilty that David has to do all the loading and unloading, and last night I pushed my body to help- the result of which was that my back hurt more. And David isn’t mad or making me feel bad about not helping, he is so sweet and loving, and he wants me to feel better. I just want to believe I have some kind of invincibility that I actually do not possess. Does anyone else out there struggle accepting your own humanness? Living within your own limits? I know I do. But I guess that’s pretty obvious right about now.
I once ran a half marathon on an injured foot and wound up in a cast for 6 weeks. I couldn’t see how my impatience with the short term sacrifice would lead to even worse long term consequences. In the end, as I hobbled into Glen’s (my therapist) office, i remember him saying to me, “I think it’s sad you feel the need to be so hard on yourself, to punish yourself. I want to invite you to be kinder to you.”
So what does all this mean, really? I am not sure, and I certainly don’t claim to have all the answers. What I do know, is that today I am going to take it easy, and not push myself. I am not going to wear heels. I am also not going to throw the baby out with bathwater where my food plan is concerned. Just because I am not working out doesn’t mean my tour health goals are a bust. Truth be told, if I let my food plan go by the way-side, I will feel worse about the bigger picture. And I am doing okay food-wise this trip, and that’s a true victory given the stressors we’ve encountered.
How are you doing with all this? Are there ways you are learning to offer yourself compassion? Do you have any great tips on putting yourself on the list? I am always open to learning.
