I used to lust after and want to bang a lot of musicians.
In fact, for about 10 years I would say my track record for dating was one type, and one type only — long haired, man bunned, long necklace, black skinny jeans, V-neck and blue jean jacket wearing doppelgangers.
I once saw a photograph of two men I dated together on Instagram and I couldn’t tell them apart.
Musicians = my weakness for my early twenties.
Why do we throw our tits in the air like we just don’t care, and lust after musicians so obsessively?
I have a theory for why we take our panties off before we know a musician’s name.
Are you ready for it?
This has taken a lot of banging the wrong frog to figure out so I hope you’re listening.
When we see somebody do what they love, they shine.
They shine so fucking bright.
It is mesmerizing, jaw dropping, soul-demolishingly beautiful to see somebody mastering their craft in front of us.
We are hypnotized and drawn into it like a mirage of water, after wandering thirsty through the desert for days.
Tasting someone not only doing but mastering what they love is a special thing.
Elizabeth Gilbert touches on this beautifully in her Ted Talk “Your Elusive Creative Genius” where she states:
“Centuries ago in the deserts of North Africa, people used to gather for these moonlight dances of sacred dance and music that would go on for hours and hours, until dawn. They were always magnificent, because the dancers were professionals and they were terrific, right? But every once in a while, very rarely, something would happen, and one of these performers would actually become transcendent. And I know you know what I’m talking about, because I know you’ve all seen, at some point in your life, a performance like this. It was like time would stop, and the dancer would sort of step through some kind of portal and he wasn’t doing anything different than he had ever done, 1,000 nights before, but everything would align. And all of a sudden, he would no longer appear to be merely human. He would be lit from within, and lit from below and all lit up on fire with divinity.”
When we do what we were inherently placed on this world with a thirst to do, and we master that thing hard—we shine.
We shine fucking bright like a diamond in a sea of gravel.
If you have observed someone lit on fire with divinity, you have experienced what that shine feels like from the outside.
It is tempting as all hell—confusingly so.
I remember my friends mom growing up had the lead singer of a bands autograph tattooed on her leg, disguised as an abstract pattern so her husband wouldn’t find out.
If I were to get all esoteric for a moment and talk about how “everybody is a mirror for you” concept—what I believe we are feeling when we see somebody lit on fire with divinity through mastering their craft, is our deeply rooted desire to personally go do our thing—to light that fire within ourselves.
We see this mastery and deep down have a reaction of wanting to go dust that thing we love off and master it in our own lives, but sometimes we confusingly equate this mirror opportunity moment with desire.
Deep down it is not their shine we want, but ours.
But we don’t see this—because we are rarely awake to our mirrors.
What these moments really are, are a moment to ask, are we doing what we love?
Are we mastering ourselves?
It is a mirror for those of us not yet mastering our craft, to see what is looks and feels like to see somebody mastering theirs.
It is an opportunity for us, to have a moment where can check in and ground into if we are doing what makes us shine—if we are not only doing it, but mastering it.
If we shine and have mastered what we love—we might not be so enticed by this.
However, me in my twenties—not doing what she loved (bartending and selling condos, but deep down wishing to write) saw this mirror and instead of going, “Wow, that person is super appealing to me because it is attractive as HELL to do what is authentic to you and do it well. I should probably look inside, self reflect and then go master whatever my thing is.” I just thought because it was shiny I should try and be close to it—maybe touch it with my vagina and see if I could trap that shine and keep it forever.
Touching the shine = sex and attempts at relationships with elusive, unavailable men.
Men who wrote Kerouac quotes on their records at three am, staring romantically into my eyes over wine in bars with carpets that smelled like skanky beer and old cigarettes before taking off in the morning for another city and another pair of eyes/legs to fall into.
Men who wrote twangs and love ballads about me, left lavender bushes on my doorstep and wildflowers in my window sill.
Yeah, those ones. Sigh.
Instead of hearing the message delivered to me by these blue jean wearing, G string playing, universe vessels and then going to master me, I unconsciously figured I would just try and sleep with the message delivery boy, for a quick hit.
Spoiler alert—this is like a band-aid, it doesn’t work.
That itch to shine inside of you is something only you can fill, by doing it yourself.
Inspiring, successful friends, mentors, lovers and people in your life are valuable because they draw out and show you where the itch is—but nothing will be as satisfying as you doing your thing, ever.
Are you with me, guys?
Itch that shit deeper—and preferably not with your vagina.
Shit = the thing you love.
I’ve been working at that itch the last three years, and thankfully musicians are less appetizing.
I have a greater appetite, which is to master my thing I love.
I also have learned this last year what it feels like to be shiny when I am around people who are not yet mastering or aware of what their craft is.
Being on the other side of that mirror is an important experience, too.
So the next time you feel your panties trying to run away on you when some musician whips out the G string in a folk melody, check in—is he really your prince or is he just a mirror and a subtle message from the universe saying, “Yo, girl—go do that thing that lights you on fire, already.”
I can tell you from experience, it is more satisfying to build your own shine, than to try fill yourself by eating that shine from the hands of somebody else.
Don’t fuck the universe delivery boy, or do—but be aware you’re touching a hot stove, before you touch it.
And what is even MORE satisfying, is mastering your shine and then finding someone else who shines just as bright and creating together.
That shit is blinding.
Go find what lights you on fire and hit that—instead of musicians.