‹ Back

A Reflection on Letting Go, Trusting God, and Staying True to My Art --

 

There are moments in a creative life when the lesson arrives quietly, wrapped not in success but in stillness. Recently, I walked through one of those moments. I made a choice that many independent artists make—I used a third-party playlisting service to help promote my songs on Spotify. At the time, it felt like a hopeful step toward a larger audience. I believed that if more ears discovered my work, something good might grow from it.

 

But instead, it resulted in some of my music being removed from that platform altogether.

 

At first, I felt discouraged…even embarrassed. I had wanted so badly for people to hear the songs I’ve poured so much of myself into. I thought that widening the reach—by any permitted means—was part of building momentum. But in hindsight, I realized that the entire approach came from a place that wasn’t aligned with who I am creatively or spiritually.

 

Because the truth is:

My music has never come from chasing numbers. It has always come from God—from that private, interior place where my soul and my creativity meet. I lost sight of that for a moment. I thought external visibility equaled artistic success. And when the platform pushed my songs out, it forced me to stop, breathe, and remember what I’ve always known:

 

• True validation of my work doesn’t come from outside sources like algorithms.
• It comes from alignment.
• Alignment is found within the self, not outside the self.
• I don’t need to beg for plays or pay for attention.
• I don’t need artificial traction.
• And I certainly don’t need to force anything that isn’t growing organically in my world.

 

What I do need is to stay faithful to the work itself—to the writing, the recording, the stories, the arrangements, the practice, and the quiet discipline of creating something beautiful because it was placed on my heart to create. I realized something else, too:  There are countless artists—extraordinary ones—who never became world famous. Their lack of fame didn’t diminish the value of their music. Their art still mattered. Their songs still carried healing, joy, memory, and truth.

 

Whether the world ever crowns me with massive recognition or not, I am still called to make music. It is part of who I am on the inside.  I still love singing.  I can't stop singing or playing music anymore than I can stop breathing. I still love being able to hear the sound of the melodies in my head long before they  ever come out through me. I still love the magic that happens whenever I am blessed to work with other musicians. Regardless of any actual achievement or outside acclaim, I will continue writing, singing, dreaming, and building this SoulePhix universe with gratitude. Again, it is just part of who I am inside.

 

This experience humbled me, but it also freed me. It reminded me that the only thing I truly need to do is create with integrity and let God do the rest—whatever “the rest” turns out to be. Whether my music reaches a million people or a hundred, it is meaningful because it comes from my soul. And I will move forward with more clarity, more peace, and more trust. Not chasing. Not begging. Not forcing. Simply being the artist I was designed to be.

 

This is the path. This is my work...and I’m grateful for the lesson.