We all have to start somewhere

Photo by Mario Durane

Two Years In and Still...

It's almost been 2 years since the first day that I busked and I find myself feeling just as much a beginner as I did that first day. Maybe not at the same things, but I pretty much feel afraid and unsure of everything I do everyday because I have to take on new challenges in an effort to grow. Take this blog for instance, nothing makes me cringe more than sharing my thoughts, secrets and insights with the public, but I'm called to do so to connect more fully, which is exciting but still I cringe at the idea of stumbling along at first until I get the hang of it.

Making It Up As I Go Along

I'm self-employed (a full-time musician) and I am an entrepreneur. I have no idea what I'm doing- I'm guided by my ideas. I'm my own boss, I make my own hours, I earn money based on my own efforts and I determine how much I make based on how much I work- which for the past year and change has been predominantly from busking 4-5 days a week. I invented my job description and I'm a total routines-based and planning nerd. I love measuring things and correlating results to methods and habits. Productivity junkie stuff. All I ever read is self-help books and I'm obsessed with becoming my best self and achieving huge goals.

No Longer Cutting It

I'm back at the beginning again as I feel I have to expand my business and income stream. I found it exciting in the beginning that I could make money busking. And there's something in me that loves to go the unconventional route. I took pride in telling people that I play music in the subway for a living because even to me, it's unimaginable. Fast forward to now: It's no longer satisfying to JUST make a living playing music in the subway. I want to fly. I want to thrive. I want to do so much more. And it's all possible. I deserve to go bigger and make more and that's where the restlessness stems.

Counting The Wins

I challenge myself a lot, rarely feeling satisfied with my work or where I'm at or with my efforts. I think I'm a badass deep down and I'm still learning of the depths of my badassery. I'm am, however, patient and compassionate and I count everything as a lesson. I learn more from failure than success sometimes and I don't mind falling down at all. But I'm writing this right now to count the wins as best I can. I'm using this blog space to recount the journey that busking in the NYC subway has taken me on and I'm going to start by saying, What a blessing and an Education it has been.

I'm blessed that I can show up wherever I want and sing for people, who receive me with love and generosity. And when I'm tired, I go home to practice for the next day.

The education in it regards the feedback I get and exploring my own psyche as a singer and high achiever. It's not been easy, but it's always been rewarding and humbling.

I've been learning how the public responds to my voice and music, what people are interested in listening to, how to interact with individuals and audiences, how to make more money, how to play for longer. All the feedback that is essential to a commercial artist.

I love the process of learning and mastery as well and I'm learning how the brain works- I'm able to memorize more and more music more quickly today than I did a year ago, how valuable competence and confidence are to me as a performer, how the human drive for challenge keeps demanding higher heights and more novelty and newness in my everyday.


That said, I've been feeling bored lately in my busking game and I have a few ideas I'll be working to implement in the coming months to spice up my life and people's experience of the music.

I'm tired of relying on going out to make the money that I need for living expenses. Psychologically, I've learned that going out there to busk with the need to make money puts a painful strain on you as a performer. It takes the love and purity out of the performance and I've learned the hard way, it's just not the right way to play music for people.

Inversely, I've made a killing when I wasn't focussed on the money; when I lost myself in the moment of playing and suddenly opened my eyes up to a crowd in front of me and a queue off to the side, lining up to put money in my donation box.

Lead wit