Little victories

Today, my mom and I took Micah and Tyler to Union Station in downtown Kansas City to see their favorite thing: TRAINS! After looking at the huge, elaborate model train display, and walking across the Link to Crown Center to color in the Crayola Store, and then back to eat a greasy lunch in the diner, it was time for the main event: to ride the kid-size train around the huge Christmas tree.

Micah abruptly decided that he did not want to ride the train, leaving little Tyler with a choice. “Do you want to ride the train, even though Micah isn’t going?”

“Yeah!” he said, with his sweet little smile.

But as soon as he climbed into the caboose, his attitude shifted slightly. Without his big brother by his side, he realized that it was a little bit scarier than he thought.

His eyes were wide, and a little bit frightened. I stepped inside the track and walked beside him as the train went around the tree one, two, three, four times. He didn’t say much, didn’t express much, except for the times that we passed Grandmom and Micah – then he would wave enthusiastically.

Finally, the train stopped, and we freaked out on Tyler’s behalf. “Tyler, you were so brave! You rode the train all by yourself! You’re such a big boy!”

And indeed. He sure was proud of himself.

In a similar, albeit less-cute way, I’m experiencing a small victory of my own. As many of you know, I left Seattle in September with the intention of moving to Nashville because I want to write songs. Now, to be perfectly honest, I didn’t have much to base this decision on; I only started writing in 2005, and it’s not like I was an instant hit-maker. Mostly, I was writing only scraps of songs, and they were largely very lame.

Still, I knew that this is something that I wanted to pursue. Somewhere deep down, I believed that I might be capable of being a good writer. So in a very bold, gutsy, “sell the farm” kind of way, I decided to transplant myself to the very place where my favorite songs were coming from. Time will tell if any musical good will come of this.

As I have traveled hither and thither this fall, I have written a lot of songs. Most of them aren’t worth sharing. But this past Saturday, on a plane from Boston to Charlotte, I cranked out a song that I can honestly say is good. It’s GOOD. I really think so. As my own worst critic, I am so encouraged to know that I am capable of writing something that isn’t entirely a sorry excuse.

And regardless of anyone else’s approval or accolades, I know in my heart that I am making a good decision in moving to Nashville.