Somewhere out there, there’s a song with my name on it.
I haven’t heard the melody. I don’t know the lyrics. And I couldn’t tell you whether it’ll be a happy little number that makes people want to dance or something that leaves me reaching for a tissue halfway through the second verse.
But I like knowing it’s out there, waiting for me.
After years of writing and performing music, you’d think I’d have a pretty good idea of where my next song will come from. Unfortunately, creativity has never been particularly interested in following my schedule.
I’ve had ideas show up while driving, cooking dinner, or trying to fall asleep. Naturally, they almost never arrive when I’m sitting at my desk with a notebook open and a perfectly good pen in my hand.
Apparently, inspiration has other plans.
Life Keeps Giving Me Material
One of the wonderful things about songwriting is that life never runs out of stories.
Every conversation, relationship, disappointment, and unexpected adventure gives us something new to think about. Sometimes those experiences turn into songs right away. Other times, they sit quietly in the back of our minds for years before we understand what they meant.
I’ve written about love, family, happiness, and the complicated emotions that come with being human. But there are still so many things I haven’t experienced, people I haven’t met, and lessons I haven’t learned.
That’s exciting to me.
It means my creative life still has plenty of surprises ahead. And considering how often regular life surprises me, I suspect I’ll have no shortage of material.
The Woman Writing the Songs Keeps Changing
Here’s something I didn’t fully appreciate when I was younger: The person writing the song matters just as much as the story.
A song I might have written at 25 would probably sound very different if I wrote it today. Back then, I had certain ideas about love, success, happiness, and what adulthood was supposed to look like.
Some of those ideas were pretty good.
Others? Well, let’s just say experience has been an enthusiastic editor.
Motherhood has changed how I understand love. Performing has taught me about confidence and vulnerability. Getting older has helped me appreciate moments I once might have overlooked.
All those experiences influence what I write.
And I love the thought that five or ten years from now, I’ll have an entirely new perspective to bring to my music.
Not Every Song Needs to Be a Masterpiece
Songwriters can put an awful lot of pressure on themselves.
We want the perfect melody, the unforgettable chorus, and lyrics that make people stop whatever they’re doing and listen.
Preferably before lunch.
But I’ve learned that creativity works better when I give myself permission to experiment. Some songs come together beautifully. Others need a little patience, a few revisions, and perhaps a long vacation in the bottom of a drawer.
That’s part of the process.
Sometimes a song teaches me something even if nobody else ever hears it. Sometimes the idea that doesn’t work today becomes the beginning of something wonderful months later.
I try to remember that every song deserves a chance, even the slightly awkward ones.
There’s Still So Much Music Ahead
I think we sometimes make the mistake of believing our most creative years must happen when we’re young.
But why should that be true?
Life keeps changing. We keep growing. New experiences bring new emotions, and those emotions give us fresh things to say.
I don’t know what my next favorite song will be about. Maybe it’ll come from a conversation with one of my kids, a funny moment on the road, or an ordinary Tuesday that takes an unexpected turn.
Maybe it’ll surprise me completely.
That’s what makes songwriting such a wonderful adventure. There’s always another story waiting to be told, another melody waiting to be discovered, and another part of ourselves waiting to find its voice.
And somewhere in all of that, I hope there’s a song that makes someone smile, feel understood, or remember a moment they thought they’d forgotten.
As for when I’ll write it?
Your guess is as good as mine. But I’ll keep a notebook handy. Just in case.
