"I Want to Do it All"
Fun with Impostor Syndrome and Identity Crisis! Plus Music.
Today, I’m trying something new.
I’m going to post a recording of one of the songs I’m working on. The topic: my unreasonable desire to experience EVERYTHING, all the time.
After the song, I’m going in for a coaching session with my alter-ego, Ginjure. Ginjure is warm and funny but no-nonsense, self-identifying “badass bitch” who specializes in helping people with boundaries, creativity, and relationships.
The song
Here it is: “All or Nothing” in an early demo stage, as recorded and then video’d on my phone.
And now…Life-Coaching Myself:
Ginjure meets me outside, wearing her smiley-face sweater and a trucker hat, looking like she does not give a FUCK! The sun is FINALLY shining, and she hugs me warmly. We take a walk as we drink some very expensive decaf coffee together because we are both proudly no longer addicted to caffeiene.
Ginjure: Hey girl! I enjoyed hearing about all your…yearnings in this song.
Me: Hey! Thanks. It’s just an early version. I’ve been keeping all these songs to myself for years because I haven’t done a “real” version of them yet and—
Issue #1: Impostor Syndrome
Ginjure: What’s a “real” version?
Me: You know, like…going into the studio and getting real musicians to bring it to life and a real producer to—
Ginjure: What’s a “real” musician? You’re not real?
Me: Uh. Well, I guess I’m real. I just can’t play well and sing at the same time, so a lot of times I feel like I don’t have the right to call myself a musician in the same way some people can.
G: But you write the songs, using instruments…
Me: Yes.
G: And do you ever perform?
Me: I do, with my band.
G: When you’re on stage, do you feel like an impostor?
Me: No, actually. I feel really confident performing. I even get to sign autographs sometimes! I feel like an impostor just…all the rest of the time. (laughs) Every time I have ever done anything, I always feel like I’m cheating, or like I’m not “really” doing it the way everyone else is. I’m not “real.” People are just letting me participate because they—I don’t know—don’t want to hurt my feelings?
G: So you write music, play instruments, and perform successfully…but you still don’t consider yourself a “real” musician? Who is a real musician?
Me: Like, Dave Grohl? B.B. King?
G: Okay, but the definition of a musician is “a person who makes music.” Vocalists count. You don’t think Mariah Carey is a musician?
Me: She definitely is. She has such amazing control over her voice.
G: Okay I have a question. Have you ever sung, played, and performed at the same time?
Me: …Yes.
G: So you can do it. Do you ever practice singing and playing at the same time?
Me: (laughs) Not much.
G: Would you say that if you did practice, this is a skill you could get comfortable with?
Me: Yes.
G: So why don’t you?
Me: I guess…it’s just not as interesting to me as writing and recording the songs? Or even performing the songs. Hm. Never really thought about that. I love the writing and recording process, but I do not love playing the same song over and over to nobody.
G: So, on a level, you don’t actually give a crap if you play and sing at the same time!? And yet, you are using this as an excuse not to feel like a real musician? Even though you check all the other boxes for being a musician?
Me: (laughs) Yes.
G: It strikes me, based on the lyrics of this song, that what you like is feeling a sense of freedom to do whatever you want. You talk about all these seemingly contradictory things that you want to do: you want to be in a mosh pit, but also meditating for hours. You want to be a mom, and also “out of your mind.” You want to travel, but also be comfortable at home.
Me: I am a dopamine-driven person, yes.
G: But there’s also something I sense about you needing to be perceived as “accomplished.”
Me: *looks around for the answer*
I guess at some point in my past, I started correlating my worth with external excellence and achievement. When I was young I was a big fish in a small pond, and I got used to being “the best” at a lot of things. Then when I moved to L.A., where there were so many people who were more talented, beautiful, smart, and accomplished, I felt like I had been deluded and I didn’t measure up.
I guess there are a plenty of people who would say I am a musician.
G: So even when you meet your own “external validation” quota, it sounds like you are allowing your mind to make up reasons why you aren’t qualified. Do you know…our minds’ number one job is to keep us safe. If you are trying to put yourself out there in any real way, you are opening yourself to rejection, and your brain does not like that. So it comes up with limiting beliefs to protect you from the inevitable truth that there will be people who don’t like you and it might hurt.
But you know what else your brain wants to do? It wants to find the answers to any question you ask. So what if, instead of letting it run wild with negative stories about you, you ask your mind to come up with reasons why you are qualified?
Me: Okay. I am a good songwriter. I can sing and perform well. I can play instruments and structure songs and create music out of nothing, just using a phone app.
G: That is something! Can you see that you have this musician part of yourself who wants to be seen and appreciated and nurtured by you…but you keep her down by telling her she’s not ready or not good enough to be seen?
Me: Yeah.
G: So she hides. Until you can rectify this, you’ll miss tons of opportunities because your mind won’t be open to them. You won’t allow yourself to go all out, or take risks in this area of life. You’re probably always going to be wondering if you should just quit.
Me: Hm. Yeah. I’ve thought that. I’ve let the“reasonable” 9-5 type people get in my head.
G: Whose voice is that?
Me: Huh?
G: It’s not your voice. Who’s voice from your past is the “reasonable” 9-5 person?
Me: Probably my parents to start out with. They definitely supported me doing all my arts and music, but they didn’t want to see me suffer when I couldn’t pay the bills or whatnot. Mom always wanted me to get a stable job as, like, a medical coder or something.
G: And have you ever had a job like that?
Me: (laughs) No. I had a 9-5 job one time for six months. Never again.
G: So there’s something in you that feels like you are betraying your parents, your best interests, and your safety if you follow your artistic dreams all the way.
Me: Yeah, and also there’s societal norms. I’m 41. I look around at my “peers” and there are very few of them who are still pursuing such “unnecessary” goals.
G: And do you want a life like theirs?
Me: Hell to the no.
G: Aight then. So you have to rectify this incongruency in your mind. You could a) become the best multi-instrumentalist in the world (which won’t address the root of the problem. You’ll find some other reason to think you’re unworthy). Or you could b) change your definition of what a “real” musician is and just fuckin’ see yourself as one.
Me: I will choose B. I have too many other things going on in my life to become a virtuoso right now, so I think I will just go ahead and concede that I am a real musician. I guess if I want to keep making music, it’s important that I see myself that way.
G: YES. I want you to write down on a note card “I am a musician who is always evolving in my own way,” and put it somewhere that you can see it every day. And I don’t want to hear you say anything else that contradicts that from now on! K? There is nothing wrong with mainly being interested in writing songs and performing them, with or without simultaneous instrument playing! Have you heard of backing tracks?
And now that that’s out of the way, let me also ask: what is the reason you “want to do it all?” Is it fear of missing out?
Me: Maybe. Not of missing out on what other people are doing, but perhaps missing out on my purpose on this Earth.
Issue #2: Life Purpose FOMO
G: Okay. Let’s think about this. Is it possible to miss out on one’s purpose on this earth?
Me: …No?
G: You don’t sound certain about this.
Me: Well, I’m not. I don’t want to live a subpar life. It’s so short, I want to make sure that I get what I came for, you know?
G: You certainly cram a lot in “at the same time,” according to the song. What do you do with your life right now?
Me: I’m a very involved mom of 8-year-old twins. I’m committed to keeping my relationship with my husband fresh and healthy. I write on Substack—usually memoir essays. There’s the music stuff. Songwriting, the band. And I value my health and wellness—lots of energy devoted to cooking, eating, and working out. Then, hobbies: I’ve brought back practicing piano and Spanish (two skills I had let lapse). I love to travel and stay active in my community and friend groups. I make extra money by substitute teaching. And I’m always feeling like I should be doing more, or making more money, or adding value to this world in a way that is—
G: Homie! That’s a lot. Are you okay?
Me: I…think so?
G: How do you decide what to do on a given day? Do you ever get overwhelmed?
Me: I usually make a list, and don’t fully stick to it. Yes, I do get overwhelmed. One time a few months ago, there were two consecutive weeks when I lost the plot: I forgot to pick up my son from karate, and then I lost my car keys. A good friend rescued me both times. I felt horrible.
G: That is rough. But what I am hearing relates to what we were talking about earlier. There is a piece here that relates to identity. Do you agree?
Me: Yes. I feel like I just realized eight years ago (when my twins were born) how short life is. I have all this creativity that needs to get out, and I’m afraid if I don’t do all these things, I will miss my chance to honor all the parts of myself that want to be expressed! I still do want to be a rock star! (laughs) I want to be an author! I want to be fluent in Spanish and going on surf trips to Nicaragua and, of course, my number one desire since I have the most amazing family in the world is to be present for them before all of this. Which is what I usually do.
G: And I bet you feel like you’re putting yourself on the back burner sometimes.
Me: Yeah.
G: But let me challenge you to look at it another way. You don’t have to choose between these identities. If you zoom out, you can see that all you have to choose between is a timeline, temporarily.
Me: How do you mean?
G: Well, your kids are eight. They still need you for a while, in a way that they won’t in a few years.
Me: Trust me, I’m well aware. That’s another internal struggle; actually changing my identity from being a caregiver first. But I’m in that transition. They are becoming more and more independent.
G: Yes, and that artist inside you that wants to create at a higher level is not going to disappear if you decide to just drop into being fully present for this stage of life.
Me: Hmm.
G: You can still keep the creative fire burning by doing what you can, but you’re going to need some interesting goals in a few years when your kids are truly independent. You don’t need to do it all right now like your life depends on it.
Me: I won’t be too old?
G: Ginger! Really?
Me: Well…
G: I know you, and you are not someone who subscribes to the limits of “the way things are done.” If you want to be a rock star at 50, I have full confidence you could make it happen. And if you want to publish that memoir at 60, you will certainly have a lot more experience and depth to make it good. If you want to write that memoir on the beach in Nicaragua after going surfing, you can. But for now, what if your purpose is just to be deeply present for this beautiful stage of your life?
Me: (takes a deep breath) Yeah.
G: Repeat after me: I haven’t missed my window.
Me: I haven’t missed my window.
G: My story isn’t over.
Me: My story isn’t over.
G: I am still becoming.
Me: I am still becoming. But how do I prioritize what I do on a daily basis?
G: I would invite you to let go of the idea that you have to be “working on” something “productive” for all your goals every single day. That is probably what led to the exhaustion and mental overload that made you forget your son and your keys.
Me: Yeah. That makes me feel like a failure.
G: Remember what I said earlier about zooming out? Let’s do that. And think more in terms of seasons or weeks.
Me: That really does ease my mind just to imagine that’s possible. I don’t know why I’m always riding myself so hard about being, like, a perfect Renaissance woman every day.
G: Yeah. So on a daily basis, you can start with the non-negotiables. What does it look like to actually be present for your kids? Protect that. Then, just choose one creative practice as a daily touchstone. Maybe it’s just journaling, or playing one song, or, if you want to practice your Spanish or whatnot for a half hour. The key is, it’s not about advancing yourself and making progress.
Me: It’s not?
G: No! It’s about just maintaining your identity as a creative person who can do these things and has free will.
Me: Hm.
G: And you can have bigger pursuits that are monthly or seasonal, like gigs with your band or whatever. But trust that everything unfolds in time as it’s meant to. And if you try to do it all at once, you won’t enjoy any of it.



And I have to add: fabulous lyrics, music, and delivery! Perfect notes for each phrase. Reminds me of Joni Mitchell. The dialogue high-level Zen wisdom. You're a model for successfully doing it all, and with sincere loving care. Your muses have giant hearts.
Poetry bit me when I turned 57. Suddenly, in a moment, out of the proverbial blue, and not baby teeth but big chomping incisors and canines right at my jugular. It was time to be obsessed, overcome, consumed, the Muse said. And she shot flame into my veins. That was the start of a lifelong wake-up addiction. First poetry collection published at age 79, second book manuscript accepted and published at age 81, and goal this year to have third manuscript polished and ready for submission. Your creative Muses (and you've been birthed by many!) have you, girl, and they're not letting go. They know you love them, and they'll take care of you every single day. Just ask Ginjure. She feels them hovering. Just ask them what to do.