Flight

For years, many years, I felt so embarrassed to tell people that I wrote songs. But, ever since I was in about 8th grade, I’ve been constantly writing songs—lyrics and melodies are constantly floating around in my head. As a kid, this is frequently how I spent all my class time as the teacher would lecture. I would sit there in my own world and write songs, tapping the beat to the song on my desk with my fingers or pencil. On other occasions I’d be in the middle of a conversation with someone, but mentally adrift somewhere because something they said or some emotion I sensed they were feeling triggered a melody in my head and so I’d chase after it.

I have never felt comfortable claiming the title of songwriter. As a teenager, my perception was that my big musical dreams made my own family uncomfortable and in later years, I quickly discovered they made my wife uncomfortable. I believed a powerful lie for the longest time that God had a unique, intentional plan to limit me in life (gave me unsupportive parents and an unsupportive wife) and keep me from doing what I loved most. Ironically, I picked up that belief when I was teenager by attending church. Go figure. So, for years I just bottled up this desire to be a songwriter, this integral piece to my own identity, because it was always seen as too impractical, too risky, too worldly. I took on a victim mentality and would just blame others for my lack of initiative to grow as a songwriter or musician and for my hesitations to put myself out there and just play publicly.

A decade later, my hopelessness and bitterness started coming out in very ugly ways: wild bursts of anger toward my wife and kids, ongoing addictive patterns with pornography and masturbation, jealousy of other people’s lives who seemed to be living their dream, cynical attitude toward churches and church leaders, tremendous insecurity and anger (all internal) around any Christian who seemed even remotely conservative. I was living in a downward cycle of hopelessness until my world came crashing down as a result of a more serious moral failure.

In the healing process from that failure, I discovered who I really am--an unconditionally loved child of God. This belief sparked a newfound permission and inspiration to embrace who I am as a songwriter. This song captures that story and the day I finally said, “Enough is enough. I’m tired of spiraling downward all the time—I’m ready to run away from that life—find my stride—fly like a bird.” Any big life change I choose to make of course impacts my wife, so this song is primarily written to her. It's a plea for partnership, support, and faith to take the leap with me. Embracing the title of songwriter is incredibly vulnerable for me. I feel extremely exposed and inadequate when I do. So, I need her by my side for this journey. The bridge/ending of the song captures that more directly.

And so far—she’s been my biggest supporter and champion, pushing me to stay at it even when I want to give up, affirming me that she sees a gift in me, too, and building me up in front of others. I can’t imagine doing this life or this journey that’s so unique to me (us) and my (our) calling with anyone else.   

Dark Clouds

Despite the gloomy title, this is actually a love song to my wife. Marriage isn’t easy. There is no one in the world that knows you more intimately, vulnerably than your spouse. They see you at your worst. “Dark Clouds” is about the truth I cannot see when I’m blinded by the dark clouds of pain, anger, pride, or selfishness. The truth is that behind ALL of my dark clouds, there is love generating healing, peace, joy and righteousness in me but I just don’t see it all the time. I don’t always center my life on it and live out of that truth.

I wrote the song after a hard conflict with my wife that ended with us both feeling hurt, walking away from each other, and not resolvinganything. I sat down thinking, “what went wrong? Why do we keep getting caught in these downward spirals? Why can’t we communicate? Why can’t I attune to her needs? Why can’t I just keep my stupid mouth shut?” I sat down at the piano, not thinking, cool, I’m hurt and super ticked off so how about I write a love song for my wife! I just sat down and started playing to relax myself and process the evening. The chords and melody came first, then the lyrics began to formulate as I started asking myself, “what is it that you REALLY want to say? You said a lot of hurtful things because you are hurting inside, too, but not because that’s what you really think.”

So, I wrote this song as a confession that I have at times treated my wife horribly—I’ve been an absolute monster. I also wrote it as a reminder to myself when I feel ashamed of my actions or feel hurt from her actions toward me, that deep down I love my wife more than anyone else in the world. And it reminds me of the promise that God’s love is surrounding us even when we’re fighting and He is actually there, present with us, mending all of our wounds.

Paradox Heart

“Paradox Heart” is my description of the environment where the seeds of my songwriting journey took root, which is why it is the first song I shared publicly. Writing this song turned memories into monuments for me. The song was trapped beneath the surface in me for a long time. I knew I had to write it because it is as much about me making sense of my time here in China as it is about my reconciliation with “China.”

In terms of sound quality, it is the worst recorded, worst mixed of all of the songs! It doesn’t even snap to the drumbeat at parts! But, I decided to leave it that way on purpose because I feel like it will draw the listener into an experience like so many of the experiences I’ve had here where I’ve stepped into a situation, whether it's listening to a live band, trying a new product being promoted on the street, looking at the advertising in my elevator, or even ordering coffee or dessert and I’ve had such high expectations only to hear myself thinking moments later, “gosh, ya know, there’s something slightly off about this.” So, it fits. I also realized at the start of this project that I was jumping into it with a perfectionist mentality, which is funny given the fact that I know that I know very little about recording and mixing audio, I use subpar equipment, I have limited time, and shabby recording conditions. I also had never played piano to a click track before. Woops. Well, clearly I let go of being a perfectionist. After the surrender, I decided to aim for completion, not perfection. I know if I remain a perfectionist, I’ll end up with zero songs shared with the public at the end of 2016. But, if my aim is just simply completion, I’ll have at least 12 songs shared with people by the end of the year. That’s a number I’ll be much happier with. So what if critics invent a new genre of music in my honor and call it, “poverty-pop.”

A proverbial love-hate relationship:

It may be hard to imagine that a word like, “paradox,” would be able to offer a person so much comfort. But after living in China for seven years, for me, it does. Oddly enough, it is a word I cling to now for any sense of coherence to my story because paradox is a word that embraces the grey areas of life—a state of limbo, stalemate, and indecision. It doesn’t describe a situation void of absolutes, but rather two absolutes that both seem true yet self-contradicting at the same time. It should be logically unacceptable and yet to just accept it, puts the mind at ease because you discover that to try and summarize your thoughts from only one side is incomplete and totally inadequate. And that’s when two contradicting thoughts somehow, ironically, complement one another because you need to grasp both sides in order to understand the full picture.  

Living as an expat in China for seven years gave new meaning to the phrase, “daily grind,” because that’s really what it was for me—like a daily scrape of sand paper to my heart, mind, and soul. Daily, I faced loss, personal inadequacies, language barriers, cultural walls, deteriorating facilities, and dangerous environmental conditions that compromised good heath. Daily, I was denied access. Daily, I was just out of reach from friends and loved ones. Daily, my world back home moved on without me. Daily, I lacked rhythm. Daily, I couldn’t go deeper with someone because I didn’t have the words. Daily, I was irritated somehow. But, if I stopped there, you’d have a one-sided coin which is a useless piece of currency.

Daily, I also collected beautiful and rare, invisible artifacts that are forever-treasures to me. Daily, I learned new words. Daily, someone called me handsome or said my beard was beautiful. Daily, I saw community cultivated. Daily, a new sense of home progressed. Daily, the world became smaller and more accessible. Daily, my mind evolved. Daily, I fell deeper in love. And because of all this, daily, I was satisfied.  

The grind was always abrasive but it also increased my patience and pain tolerance and taught me how to persevere under trial. It matured me and it polished my character. It taught me how to love my neighbor and listen to my God.