The Strength card represents finding your true power by approaching life with a gentle nature over brute force action. Trying to control your insecurities with violence could bite you back in the end. Love and kindness favors peace and harmony, and yields greater rewards.
Trying to Run a Marathon at a Sprinter's Pace
SONG RELEASE STORY
January 24, 2025
Low self-worth has haunted me for decades. It clings to me like virus. As a young singer-songwriter, I pushed on anyway, imagining I could exorcise the ghosts by doing the thing I feared most - playing my songs in public and living as the artist I always wanted to be.
One weekend, I was invited to play at a songwriters showcase. When it was my turn, I sat on the stage, alone with my keyboard, and looked out at the audience. I mechanically sang and performed the memorized chords as I thought to myself, "They're not really listening. I'm just pretending to be someone I'm not." The next day, I wrote “What It Takes.”
My insecurity and self-doubt manifested in workaholism. I believed if I was disciplined enough, I could succeed as an artist. Maybe people would look at me, and not through me. Brute force action was vital to the equation. But the effort was pulling me from the people I loved most, and I wasn't having any fun. There was no balance. I needed a break.
I felt weak and defeated, but I held onto a thread of hope that maybe there was a higher purpose for my struggles. A decade later, The Music Tarot was born and became my saving grace. Finally things made sense. I was living the tarot and experiencing each card so I could write its song. 'What It Takes' was a clear manifestation of Strength.
The first years of The Music Tarot were blissful and effortless. Then came the time to take it to the next level. I walked to the ring, ready to face the lion and slay the demands of being of an indie artist. But just as I stepped through the gates and turned to face the beast, it wasn't music production and promotion that stood before me. Immediately after I started working on the first album, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.
I could have stopped altogether, hanging my head with defeat. But instead, I picked up the pace. I decided music would be my distraction to get me through the horrors of cancer treatment. I managed to do it all - work, doctors, surgery, husband, dogs -and pumped out well over 20 songs. I learned how to use social media, make videos, and figured out a marketing plan. But then I hit a wall. Life became a storm. I did not have it in me to continue.
Even though every part of my body told me to rest, I felt that I had to keep going to push my project forward, My husband told me, “You're trying to run a marathon at a sprinter's pace.”
Nightmares plagued my sleep and panic attacks filled my days, but I was convinced that eventually the darkness would lift and I would enjoy my life again. So I kept running. I stared adversity in the eyes and said, "I will make you stop hurting me, I'm in control here." But I wasn't.
As 2024 came to a close, a debilitating fatigue fell over me, and I had to slow my stride. I settled for good enough. And today, as I release What It Takes / Strength, I'm feeling a bit more confidence in my power, embracing more of the stillness. Some days, I'm still searching for balance. But I’m realizing that trying to control my insecurities with violence (overworking and hurting my mind/body/spirit) only bites me back in the end. Toughing it out doesn't make me any stronger. True power lies in approaching life with a gentle nature. Acting with loving kindness, forgiving my mistakes, and walking forward with a slow but steady resolve. This approach has unlimited potential and yields far greater rewards.