Music, Medicine, and a Finish Line
Music is medicine. I know this because it’s part of my daily medicine. If I miss a dose, things tend to turn south. If I’m feeling down, it can pick me up. And some of my most powerful medicine comes from the music of Nahko Bear.
My daughter, Hailey, introduced me to his music more than ten years ago, and it has been a big part of both our lives ever since. I’m never quite sure what genre to put it in. Indie? Folk? Spiritual? A little of everything? Whatever you call it, it speaks to something deep inside me.
So when Nahko was coming to Roseville, about two and a half hours from our house, we got tickets. Whenever we can, we like to show up for an extra dose of his medicine.
We made it a quick overnight adventure and stayed in a tiny A-frame at Solstice Farms in Loomis. It was cozy, beautiful, and just adventurous enough.
The farm also had a cute, whimsical pumpkin patch tucked into a eucalyptus grove. I’m not sure how their pumpkin crop did this year, but Hailey and I happened to see a Walmart van arrive and unload a whole bunch of pumpkins. We had a good laugh. If you’re the local pumpkin patch and your pumpkins don’t cooperate, what are you going to do? Sometimes you need a little help bringing the magic together.
But the biggest moment of the trip was still ahead.
I listen to Nahko a lot when I paint. His music helps me settle in, open up, and connect with my creative flow. His songs have accompanied so much of the work I’ve made, including my Ancient Wisdom Oracle deck. Giving him a deck felt important—a way to say, “Your creativity helped feed mine. Here is something that grew from that.”
So I brought one along.
And when the moment came to give it to him, I felt like I got slapped in the face by the universe.
In a good way.
It came out of nowhere: this enormous wave of emotion. An emotional celebration that arrived before I had any words for it. I had to ask Hailey to step in and go first. She was my wingman.
I thought she might say, “Hey, Nahko, here’s my mom. Do you remember her?”
Oh, no. She had a full-blown conversation.
She told him how hard I had worked on these cards and that he was part of their magic. She explained that I was having an emotional moment and asked him to take a little time with me and listen to what I wanted to share.
My daughter had my back. She saw what was happening and took such beautiful care of me.
And somewhere in that moment, I understood why I was so emotional.
I was crossing a finish line.
It has been almost a year since I started putting my cards out into the world. Sharing something so personal has been a really big deal for me. It has been exciting, vulnerable, and sometimes downright scary.
But I did it.
I made the art. I wrote the words. I brought the deck to life. And then I kept showing up and sharing it, even when I was afraid.
Giving Nahko his deck brought all of that home to me. Someone whose music had helped carry me through the creative process was now holding what I had created.
And I was so, so proud of myself.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt pride in quite that way before. It all hit me at once, and I could barely talk. What did come out was the tiniest little squeak.
Nahko gave me space. He listened. He supported me. He liked my cards and let me know he was proud of me, too.
I am so thankful for that moment. Thankful for his music, for my daughter, and for everything this project has taught me. Thankful that I kept going long enough to experience something I couldn’t have planned.
I hope the love and inspiration that helped me create these cards will keep rippling outward. His music became part of my paintings. My paintings became a deck. And now that deck is in his hands. Who knows where the next little ripple will go?
I thought I was good.
I just didn’t know how good. 🙂
LOL.
