Purpose

Brené (Brown) says that in order to live a wholehearted, fulfilling life, one must have a sense of purpose. Purpose is defined as the reason for which something is done or created or for which something exists. Why am I here? Why now? What am I meant to share with the world? What will my legacy be? These are big ass questions. I also believe they are fluid and can change with the seasons of life.

When you are a child, your purpose is to learn, observe, grow, follow the rules, and become a functioning human. As a teenager, your purpose is to let the world revolve around you and piss off your parents… right? As a young adult finishing high school and applying for college, I remember wondering if singing was a part of my purpose, or just something I was good at. I have been in love with singing since I was a toddler. When I was 6 years old, I showed up on career day at school wearing a pair of strappy red heels from the dress-up box, with lyrics to “Hero” by Mariah Carey in my back pocket. I told my teacher I was going to be a singer and asked to perform in front of the class. I’m pretty sure nobody else performed… When I was 7 I sang “My Name is James” from the movie James and the Giant Peach for show and tell, with the lisp and everything. In fifth grade I sang “Reflections” by Christina Aguilera in front of my entire school for the talent show. I wore jean capris from the GAP and a cream floral T-shirt. I was terrified. My entire body was shaking. It seems that effortless ease of putting on a show as a child dissipates around grade 3, when we start getting graded on art and comparing our creativity. When I was finished, everyone clapped and some people even stood up. Two seventh grade boys approached me and demanded to see the CD I used for accompaniment - they thought I had lip synced. I was thrilled.

It took me almost a decade to actually fall in love with BEING on stage, but the reaction I got from a crowd was instantly addictive. Growing up, my mom used to ask me to sing at dinner parties for family and friends. I always got mad at her and felt embarrassed (believe it or not, I was actually quite shy as a kid). I didn’t want to make the moment all about me, but secretly I always wanted to sing. I remember one night when I was particularly perturbed at mom for trying to “show me off”, she pulled me aside and told me “your voice is a gift Em. It’s in you to be shared.” This was a huge A-ha moment for me (as Ops would say - that’s short for Oprah. I love Oprah. Deal with it). Sharing my voice with people wasn’t just about what I got out of it (or my mom got out of it), it was also about the way I made other people feel. And from what I could gather, it made people feel good. I felt useful. From then on, pretty much anytime somebody asked me to sing, I would.

After high school I went to Berklee College of Music for a year. I was incredibly intimidated by the environment and didn’t audition for any showcases while I was there. To be honest, I was more enamoured with going to school in the US than Berklee itself. I didn’t know if music was what I wanted to do with my life, I just knew I loved it. When I decided not to apply for student loans and continue with my music education, I took a trip to Europe with some friends. I was 19 and had no idea what I would do when I got back to Vancouver, but my mom had already enrolled me in community college. In our house if you weren’t going to school you were paying rent, so I complied. I had thought about journalism (cause I wanted to be rich) and figured I would be an English major or something. Just as I made the momentary decision to stop pursuing music, I was asked to come busking on the streets of France while drunkenly singing at an open mic in Nice. I said yes (as you do) and did this for 4 months, traveling and singing on the street. One night while we were performing in Vernazza, Italy, a man asked if we would do a song for a young couple who just got married. Like JUST got married. We walked up the steps to a rooftop where about 30 people were eating dinner. There was minimal conversation. There was no music. We were introduced and the bride and groom stood up. We played “If I Ain’t Got You” by Alicia Keys while they had their first dance. Everyone cried. I cried, and then I remembered my purpose. I have remained on that path ever since, falling off here and there. Taking short cuts and running into dead ends. I have been certain of where i am headed and had no idea where I am going. A few years ago I decided the journey was more important than the destination.

This is a weird season; a weird patch of dirt. This is a mud puddle we are seemingly stuck in. I have no gigs coming up. No shows to prepare for. No audience in front of me. No one patting me on the back and telling me I’m talented. Oh god, is that why I do this? Is that how I define my worth? Does anyone miss me? These are the questions that haunted me the first few weeks I was here, home(?) in Vancouver. I felt a lack of purpose. Then I started listening. I started writing. I stared playing the incredibly old school unweighted keyed keyboard my mom borrowed from a friend for me. I started singing. I started sharing via live stream and social media. It is not the same instant gratification and therefore this season is testing me. It is challenging me to think about why I do music, who I am without a stage, how I want to spend my time, where I want to live my life, what’s important to me and how I can be of service. It is making me reflect on other times in my life when I have felt stagnant, and how the world guided me to where I am now. And then I think, maybe that is my purpose. To ask the big questions. To hear to the world when it answers (because it does answer). To unearth the truest version of myself, before it was covered in layers of language, definitions, social constructs, comparisons and self doubt. To become more me so I can wholeheartedly share it with all of you. For now, that definition will suffice. What is your purpose as of late?