One of my really good friends is a therapist. That’s important because I had been praying for something of the sort, but knew that I couldn’t afford an official arrangement. Having a friend whose life work is psychotherapy, who also happens to be an artist herself and have a particular gift to work with artists and couples is such a deep blessing. And it’s not just because it’s like, Woot. Free therapy! It’s deeper than that. Because we’re friends. And her expertise in the field is just another aspect of her knitted togetherness that she brings to the relationship.
Whenever we get together, it’s such an encouragement because she holds me accountable to the art that is sometimes too easy to ignore. And she knows and holds and accepts things about me that I most often tend to roll up and smoke into songs; tuck into the pockets of my varied Evernote journals.
So today, at 9:14 on a Tuesday morning, I’ve been sitting at Starbucks for more than an hour already and what comes to mind in the lull of my soul work is how exhausting it can be to live this hybrid life, but how grateful I am to have her in my corner.
My heroine, Brooke Fraser once said in an interview that she believes some of the world’s best musicians and songwriters are baristas and shift workers of various kinds. I agree, and would add to that list those of us with full on day jobs from season to season. Not to be like, psh I’m one of the world’s best; but simply to reiterate: the hybrid life is hard. So, shoutout to all the artists upholding their unique brand of hustle.
I woke up at 6 this morning and by 7:45 was on my way to Somewhere to write. I’ve got roughly an hour left to wade through my soul unencumbered before heading on over to my 11-7.
So here’s to the hybrid life.