Sad is good too 🍁

Refilled and recharged. Sounds a little contradictory to the title of this post, but I'll get there! A lot has happened over the past few weeks. I lived my own dream, singing my heart out at The Pheasantry Jazz Club, performing my own songs, as well as some of the songs that have shaped me, wearing a dress I made myself, feeling a million dollars. It's moments like this that I urge myself to imagine little Molly, sat in the audience. She would probably follow me around, telling me she liked my dress and that I looked pretty, and generally thinking I was the coolest thing ever. I'll take that, and hold it close.

Loving every second.

This was followed by celebrating my Grandpa's (Pampa to those who know) 80th birthday. It was a chaotic and overwhelming affair, because this is a man who is loved by SO many. He has an exceptionally rare ability to see right to the core of people, to understand them at the deepest level, and to truly learn about others (although we're unsure how, given no one ever seems to get a word in edgeways). It made me very proud to see so many gather to celebrate him and his life so far. We even played a wee tune together, moments I will cherish forever.

As if all this wasn't enough excitement, off I went to Canada for 10 days! My gorgeous friend, Ally, married the man she fell for in our 3rd week of uni, yet another reminder of the beautiful progression of life, for which I feel very grateful for. It was an honour to witness two beautiful people come together, and celebrate their love. Surrounding the wedding were some incredible moments of peace. I have never seen lakes so still, the water almost looked like glass. We visited the largest concentration of indigenous rock carvings in Canada, at Petroglyphs Provincial Park. I'm not a particularly spiritual person, but I felt so deeply moved here. The small museum near the carvings gave insight into the culture of the First Nation communities, fundamentally leading with the principle that we must co-exist with our planet, nurture and care for every part of it, as our equal, not as something that is ours to take without thought or thanks. I can't quite explain how, but something about the whole environment, from the museum, to the sacred forest, to the petroglyph site, consumed me with sadness and motivation simultaneously. I felt a gentle, but powerful encouragement to do better. In those moments I felt able to tap into something deeper than I am able to understand, an immense connection with something so much larger than I can comprehend. It was an unexpectedly profound experience that I feel very grateful to have had.

Canadian nature and me, having a moment.

In stark contrast I returned home to the news of the protests that occurred in London. Can we find our way to a place where we lead with compassion, for our planet and all that we share it with, each other included? Can we stop greed and fear dominating the way we operate? It seems naïve to think it possible, but the more each of us aim to do better, consciously adapt, learn and challenge ourselves to progress towards a more harmonious way of living, the closer we will get, and that's got to be better than nothing!

So, to the title of this post. Feeling sad about the current state of things feels good. It feels good because it energises me to think about how I want to live my life and what I need to do to make it possible. I also felt it when I played my gig. As you may know, I decided that gig would be my last, for now at least. If you've read my previous posts, you'll know I'm at an intersection in my life. I'm releasing the grip on the pressure of making my artist project my sole income and focus, and allowing for new ventures to take root. This means saying goodbye to things I'm relieved to be free of, but inevitably means also letting go of some of the aspects that I love. Performing live is one of my greatest joys, there are very few things that come close to the feeling of being on stage, singing my own songs with some of the most talented musicians I have ever met. It is something I will be eternally grateful to have ever been able to do, even once. Unfortunately, today's music industry and the general economical climate shrouds and suffocates this one pure moment in pressures and standards I am unable to meet. It is no longer worth it, for me personally, which speaks volumes. One particular event was the catalyst for me changing my mindset on my career, and on this very evening I wrote a song called 'Young Dreamer'. It's a little dramatic, written through hysterical tears, but it articulates the shift I felt that evening. I performed it solo, accompanying myself on the grand piano at a beautiful jazz club, and there it was; total sadness, but in a way that felt so cathartic and real that it felt good. I had the best time at my gig, maybe the most fun I've ever had because there was a freedom in knowing it was my last. When people asked how it went, I felt the most authentic response was 'really sad, but in a good way'. I felt that it was okay to be sad, it should be sad in fact. I was saying goodbye to one of the things that makes me happiest, it would be strange if I didn't feel sad. That doesn't mean that I'm making the wrong decision, that I shouldn't be taking an action that makes me sad. I have no doubt that it's the right decision, and therefore, by default, sad is okay. Sad is good.

Giving this concept a little brain time, internally analysing all it's facets, has felt freeing. It doesn't just mean that allowing sadness when sadness occurs is good, it also means putting yourself in sad situations, welcoming sadness even. I hope I can hold onto it, and call on it in future. It feels to me that it allows for healthier decision

s, and gives an honest, open space for sadness to do it's thing.