Last night after I finished a show in Mesa, AZ, someone mentioned how I should have arranged for newspapers, radio and press outlets to cover the show — how I should have had every seat filled. It wasn’t said in a condescending way at all, but rather with the intention to sincerely be helpful and offer constructive criticism. However, at first, I felt a little embarrassed, like I wasn’t legitimate enough or like I hadn’t tried hard enough. But I am learning more and more to recognize my ego when it wants to shout over the sound of my true heartbeat. When I feel insecure, or lacking, I can be sure it is my ego speaking. This simple recognition helps me transition back into an abundance mindset. Honestly, I am less and less interested right now in the “doing” and the “hustling” and more and more interested in the “being” verb of life. If the songs on this new album have spoken to you, they have REALLY spoken to you and I am so grateful. I am noticing that my shows are yielding the most intentional audiences I’ve ever experienced. I’m thinking of a mother and young daughter who flew from Utah to be at my Mesa show simply because the show I did a few nights ago in Salt Lake was 21+ and they felt they really “had” to make it to a show. I’m remembering the group of girls who road-tripped to Salt Lake from a small town near Las Vegas because in their words more or less “we are alone out here in the desert and your journey has really spoken to us.” I’m holding space for the young transgender woman who waited until the last person left at the State Room, to simply tell me her story in a nutshell, and how much one of my songs meant to her. I’m just not motivated by the fanfare of press and radio at the moment. And I’m certainly not motivated by the money. But today as I drove home, it rained in the desert and my soul has been filled to the brim. I feel more internal abundance than I can explain, so much so, that I have wept with these skies today.