Friday, April 4, 2023
Recipients:
The Secret Sisters ~ Laura Rogers and Lydia Slagle
PROLOGUE
I grabbed the award at the top of the stack in my desk, not realizing I still had a few stashed in my purse. The next one should have been 062, not 066. Now I had a dilemma. Should I redo The Secret Sisters BSA on 062 and make a new 066? Or should I accept the imperfection and just use the one I wrote up as-is?
Naturally, I examined the situation in a calm and thoughtful way, and made my decision in a timely fashion.
...
Pfft. Come now, people. Do you not know me at all?
We saw The Secret Sisters on Sunday, January 22, 2023.
I filled out the award on Tuesday, February 21, 2023.
Today is Friday, April 7, 2023.
Perfectionism can be a powerful paralyzing agent.
THE STORY
We've been fans of The Secret Sisters since hearing their dreamy harmonies on John Paul White's "I've Been Over This Before" from his Beulah album. (That song still gives me honest-to goodness goosebumps.)
We heard there were tickets available to see them and Jake Blount perform at a live taping of eTown in Boulder, and snapped them up right away. We had a lovely Happy Hour dinner at the Boulderado and arrived early enough that we were able to sit in the front row.
Oh, dear ones. This show. It was marvelous, and mesmerizing. They have the same captivating energy as JPW. Everyone was transfixed. You could hear a pin drop. They played a bunch of songs from their newest release, "Saturn Return". Gorgeous vocals, stirring lyrics. We just loved it. And we found them funny and charming during the interview portion of the program.
During their stage banter, they mentioned having felt, at times, like they were behind schedule compared to their peers.
The notion made me want to jump out of my skin.
For one thing, it's infinitely relatable. More powerful, though, was the indignation I felt on their behalf. I wanted to tell them, "Hey, what you do is no less than MAGIC as far as I'm concerned. Listening to your music is like balm for my poor abraded soul, and you don't ever have to feel like you're not measuring up, OK?" I had the opportunity to say as much when Lydia stopped by the merch table after the show. She shared that now that they're both moms, there's not nearly enough time to be concerned about those negative thoughts as there once was. I gave her a hug, and we chatted some more, and she gave me a hug. So sweet!
On the way home, Mike and I were listening to Saturn Return on Spotify and discussing the show as I held the signed CD in my hands. Mike, observing my happiness, said, "You should give them a BRIGHT SPOT Award." It had crossed my mind. Seeing them certainly gave me a lift. But I had decided not to. Not enough time at the merch table. And it would have meant breaking another rule floating around in my head: Don't give an award to someone famous. I'd considered giving awards to people like Robert Fulghum, Julia Cameron, and Elizabeth Gilbert because of the impact they've had on my life and creativity. Ultimately I decided the gesture would be too...self-promotional? Maybe they'd think the award was an attention-grab?
Then a song came on, one I'd heard yet didn't know well. I turned the CD over, found the track title, and laughed.
The song?
Late Bloomer.
Well, if that isn't a sign from the Universe, I don't know what is.
EPILOGUE
Perfectionism strikes again.
I wanted to write a letter to go with the award. There's just not enough space on that little piece of cardstock to express everything I wanted to say.
I started the letter.
And I kept starting over.
Then I switched to writing the post first, and kept starting that over.
Then I went back to the letter.
I finished it.
I agonized over the fact that it's three one-sided sheets of stationery.
I worried that the sisters would think I was a crazy stalker-lady or just a straight-up weirdo, or find my earnestness too cringeworthy for words.
Then I thought, Am I really going to ditch the whole thing because I'm worried about what they might think? Or am I going to listen to my own wise words and send the thing?
Exactly.
Grasping my courage in both hands, drove to the post office and popped it into the mailbox.
