“why not me?”
This picture of J. Cole (and the entire video of his set) has been embedded in my mind for years.
I don’t know why, but when I see a picture like this, I have a strong urge—a calling—to experience what it feels like to be on a stage with thousands of people who have chosen to be there because of how I make them feel.
I can’t imagine the feeling of looking out and knowing that everyone in attendance paid to be there because of the impact you have had on their lives.
I get goosebumps when I think about it.
I tear up (I quit fighting them) when I see it in person.
I get this overwhelming feeling of love when I place my Self on that stage.
I’ve talked about this feeling and my desire to experience this just once in my writing before and even in some of my talks. This is not new for me. The calling has been there for a while now.
I felt it again Wednesday night at J. Cole’s concert.
I intentionally took this picture to replace the old one in my mind.
Not only did I take the picture of Cole, but there was a moment when I caught my Self watching him, not as a fan and a concertgoer. Instead, I was watching an experience that was possible for me. I can’t quite find the words to explain it—it wasn’t an out-of-body experience, maybe a moment of pure presence. I don’t know. But I do know it wasn't a normal experience; it was something special and deeply meaningful. The moment probably lasted about 20-30 seconds, and when I came out of it, I emerged with a newfound belief.
“Why not me?”
The old answers came back:
“You’re a financial advisor.”
“Music moves people. Music transcends everything. You don’t do music.”
“11 years of creating and you have a small audience.”
“What would bring people to see you?”
“Who are you?”
These questions have kept my entire Self from believing it is possible.
A few years ago, after seeing Lindsay Stirling perform at the Fishers Event Center, a venue much smaller than Wednesday night’s United Center, I declared that five years from that night I’d host an event there in front of a sold-out crowd. I wrote out what the event would look like—less a concert, more a curation of performances related to the Authentic Life. There would be DJ’s, spoken-word poetry, artists creating during spoken-word performances, a fireside/live podcast, and a talk by me.
I saw it.
I wanted it.
I only half believed it was possible.
I think I’m two years away from the date it’s supposed to happen, and I haven’t done much to move toward making the event happen. I haven’t even thought about it enough to make it possible.
The doubt won.
Until Wednesday night.
I don’t know how I feel about quantum leaps or jumping timelines, but I might be more of a believer now after those 20-30 seconds of greater presence.
I left the venue a different version of my Self.
Belief had pushed out the doubt.
“Why not me?”
There’s no reason I can’t have the experience I am being called to. The way it makes me feel tells me it is something I am supposed to pursue—it’s not a want. It is a legit calling. The feeling calls me, and it’s not being driven by my ego, as I know what that feels like.
On the ride back home Thursday morning, I spent the first hour talking Ang’s ear off about the experience, the feeling, what I learned, and what I was going to do going forward. I told a few people the details of the experience and the plan for the future—some built-in accountability. And after this post, I won’t talk much about it, as a lot of people talk about things and never accomplish anything (I’ve done this many times). I remember reading or hearing about some science suggesting that the more we talk about our goals, the less likely we are to achieve them, because we get dopamine hits just from talking about them and from feedback from friends and family, and we end up not having to actually achieve the goal to feel good. The dopamine from the conversation takes away our desire to actually see the goal achieved.
The Creative in me wanted to have a little fun, so I made a couple of posters of the new J. Cole picture, a T-shirt with the image and “why not me?”, and a Spotify playlist of songs that I feel align with the new mantra.
The answer to “why not me?” used to be because I didn’t really believe it was possible.
The answer now is “why not?” in an affirmative way.
I’m not worrying about how it happens and what it looks like. Those will be determined when the time comes. All I’m worrying about is maintaining my belief and doing the things I already love that will move me toward being on that stage.
More and better writing.
More and better podcasting.
More and better videos.
More and better client work.
And most importantly, continuing to live my Authentic Life.
If I do all of this and keep the doubt away, the moment will come, and it will be as big as it’s supposed to be.
As much as I’d love to be able to replace J. Cole on that United Center stage, I’m not attached to the size of the crowd or venue. The stage moment is really a reflection of all the work I will have done, which has helped me realize an important lesson.
The experience of being on a stage in front of a crowd of people who have chosen to spend their money and take the time to see me is not actually about the stage—it’s about the Pursuit. It’s about the impact of all of the work leading up to that moment, not that actual moment.
So, every day I wake up and ask my Self, “why not me?”
A photo from the Keep Pursuing Series a few years ago—a moment I shared my J. Cole vision with the audience.
If you like hip-hop and have something that is leaving you asking your Self, “why not me?” check out the playlist I created and will continue to add to—it is an explicit playlist.
Keep pursuing,
JC
