Melody Maker, Part 2

Living in a Body

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Melody Maker, Part 2

Episode 58 -- Hungry for Validation

Hal Walker

May 20, 2023

Transcript

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Hi. I’m Hal. Once again, this week’s episode includes lots of music and melody. I recommend clicking the play button above for the full audio experience. (11 minute listen) Enjoy!

Melody Maker, Part Two

I'm hungry for validation. In fact, I'm starving. On the outside, I'm a 57 year old man with a little bit of white showing up in his beard, but on the inside, I'm a little boy crying out for attention. "Please. Somebody love me. Somebody tell me that I'm amazing." But it seems that no matter how many red hearts you leave in the comments, it's never enough. That's how hungry I am. I'm starving.

Here’s a 40 second melody called, “The Long Road.” I’m playing the handpan and the chromatic harmonica.

I've been a performer my whole life. Ever since my first performance of Amazing Grace on the harmonica in my Great Aunt Robina's living room, the stage has had me hooked. I thrive on the immediate feedback of an audience. I love the applause, the laughter, the silence and the connection. As a teaching artist, I used to walk into an elementary school and within minutes, I'd have the whole gymnasium eating out of the palm of my hands. On the edge of their seats, the students would be hanging on every spin of the banakula, every twang of the jaw harp and every big chord of the melodious khaen. The sense of power was palpable. The exchange of energy was magical. Now, I'm mostly housebound. I'm living alone with a nasty version of an illness called ME/CFS and I've lost my stage. There's no crowd of fourth graders circling around me, no sound system, no microphone and no wild applause. It's just me and my phone shooting videos on Instagram, selfies on Facebook and a podcast on Substack. It's lonely here in the digital world of content creation and I'm starving for connection. I'm hungry for validation.

This one’s called “Melancholic May.” I’m playing the chromatic harmonica on top of a great pianist that I found on Instagram, Andrea Vanzo.

The primary dispenser of the approval that I crave is the notification screen on my phone. The apps dole out micro hits of dopamine that feel good in the moment, but they never satisfy. The reward pathways of my brain say, "Oo. I like that," but it's never enough. I'm the mouse in the psychology lab that keeps coming back for more. Saturday after Saturday, I hungrily await the next comment on my Substack. On Sunday, I crave the likes and the shares on my weekly Facebook post. Then on Monday, I'm hankering for views on my daily TikTok videos. At my level of life experience, you'd think that I'd be past this by now, but the social media giants have me pegged. They’ve tapped into my human weakness. They seem to know me better than I know myself.

I'm not sure why I'm telling you all this. Maybe you can relate or maybe you already knew this about me. But still, I'm a little embarrassed to say it out loud. I'd prefer to be sharing with you how satisfied I am with my life as an artist. I'd rather be letting you know that I’ve managed to overcome the childish craving for external validation. But here I am lying in this bed with a love-sized hole in a child-sized psyche. I know that the only love that satiates is the love that comes from within, but I'm still searching in all the external places. I recognize that contentment is an inside job, but I'm still hungry for praise. Your praise for my work feels good in the moment, but I realize that I need something greater. So, where does a hungry man like me find the true source of satisfaction? I guess I'm here to tell you that I'm still working on it. And I’ve got a long way to go.

This one’s called “A Smooth Ride.” I’m playing the RAV drum and two chromatic harmonicas in harmony.

Lately, I've been finding great enjoyment making music in my home. I'm so grateful that I still have the strength to put a chromatic harmonica to my lips and to create something beautiful. I love producing new melodies and I treasure the flow of the creative process. It's usually the highlight of my day. When I'm working out a melody, I'm not thinking about the ringing in my ears or the aching in my legs or the weakness in my constitution. When I’m in the flow, the pain falls off to the side and the joy keeps expanding. That’s the part I like — being deeply engaged in the moment. Some friends and I call this “top line behavior.” It’s the opposite of “bottom line behavior.” These are the things that nourish my soul and make me glad that I’m alive. Solving the puzzle of a new melody is one of the great joys of my life.

But I recognize that the creative process is more than just the joy and the flow. It includes the doubt in times that are fallow. It includes the longing and the waiting. It encompasses the endless wrestling of the words and the fighting of the phrase. It offers the glorious satisfaction of listening to the final product on repeat and then finally, it calls for the letting go. That's the part I struggle with the most — the release. When the melody is done, when the episode is finished, I send it into the world and then I face the great unknown. Hungrily, I await your digital response while I question whether I’ll ever create again. Many times, I’ve faced this void and it terrifies me every time. I’m left with the ringing in my ears, the brokenness in my body and old habits of negative thinking that are hard to die. Often, after the work is done, when I should be celebrating, I feel afraid and alone. I wonder if this is all part of the creative process. I wonder if this is all part of living in a body.

Just so you know. I’m not gonna guilt you into clicking the comment button below to tell me how beautiful my melodies are. I'm not here to convince you to click that ‘like’ button at the top of the page. And I'm not writing this in hopes that you'll upgrade to a paid subscription to support my validation habit. You’re not responsible for satisfying my hunger. Really, I'm just here to connect. It occurs to me that more than validation, I'm seeking connection. I wish we could do this face to face like we used to around the piano or in a big circle in my backyard. I'd love to sing with you, to dance with you and to hear what it's like for you to live in that body of yours. Are you able to create for the sake of creating? Do you crave the likes, the follows and the comments? Can you relate to the hunger? After you've made something beautiful, are you afraid to face the great unknown? I hope you'll share it with me. I’m interested.