February 24, 2006: “Black Cadillac” and Saving My Soul

Dear Friends,

I want to tell you how moved I am by the many messages you have sent me of appreciation for “Black Cadillac”, and the stories you have shared of your own losses, and meaning you have found in this record to address those losses.

This is exactly what I had hoped would happen: that people would bring their own lives to this record, not dissect it as a diary of my life. Loss is one of the things that connects us: the holes at the center of our lives where the missing people used to be. But, as Leonard Cohen said: “There’s a crack in everything; that’s how the light gets in”.

Thank you for trusting me with your stories and for taking the time to send your appreciation.

Now, for something more mundane: copyright protection software. I’ve received a lot of complaints about this, and some people have said they will not buy the record if it is encoded with this software. I understand. I don’t like it, either. It makes no sense. When you could buy a blank cd for a dollar and copy it from a friend’s cd, why do they put this software on something which you are buying legally? Can I tell you that I have about as much chance of changing this corporate policy of the record labels as I have of getting shot by Dick Cheney? Wait, let me think of another metaphor. I have about as much chance of making them remove this software from my cd as I do of dancing the lead in the Nutcracker at Lincoln Center next Christmas. That’s better.

I’m sorry. I really am. Let’s just all take a moment to feel empathy for the entire major label system within the music industry, which is now akin to an elderly Allosaurus shortly after the meteor hit the planet. But until I get up the energy and capital to start my own record label, this is the way I have to put them out into the world, so there we are. And truthfully, my label is very good to me, and the software issue is balanced out by their commitment to promoting this record and letting me get my work out there. But keep writing, as we have a very active complaint desk here at Mrs. L’s, and we are mostly unfailingly sympathetic.

Now, on to religion.

My darlings, there is no need to worry about my immortal soul. Some of you seem determined to save it. But that’s my job, and I’m on it. If I express tremendous doubt in some of these songs, I also express profound faith. The record is a map of many things that surround loss: grief, confusion, anger, doubt, faith, transformation, love, despair and hope. There are a lot of questions, not a lot of answers. I love the quote from Rilke: “Try to love the questions in your heart…”

I do, I do. I love the questions, I am empowered by the search, I’m inspired by the exploration, all of which is fundamentally human. I really don’t trust people who say they have no cracks in their faith and never entertain doubt. That’s not faith, that’s fanaticism.

What do I believe in? I believe in a universe that supports our highest potential. I believe that love survives death, and can heal even the most grave damage, given time and trust in the process. I believe in a God that defies my understanding. I think that my mind is not even close to being large enough to understand what God really is, and this excites me. I believe there is something outside my own existence that is all-knowing, whose creative potential is so vast that I can barely glimpse even the smallest edge. I believe that when I am in my most creative zone, I am touching that edge, but beyond that, it is unfathomable to me. I also believe that some day I will understand this better. I believe that I chose my parents, and they chose me, for reasons that I only partially understand, and the same goes for my children. I believe that the frog in the rain forest inhales the same air I exhale, and that we are all connected on a level that is so profound, so complex, and so basic, that if we got even a momentary insight into this subject, it would transform us. I believe war is fundamentally wrong, and that at some point in the future, our descendants will look on us as barbarians for conducting ourselves in this way. I do not believe in Armageddon, which seems to be a popular belief these days. The idea that the world, which is billions of years old (sorry, Pat and Jerry, but you need to go back to third grade science class), will end in MY lifetime, because I am just so special that all things will come to an end once I have graced the planet, is just too narcissistic to even entertain.

I do not believe that any one person has a special hold on God’s ear, but that there are as many ways to God as there are people on the planet, and that God, in His/Her infinite understanding, is able to tolerate a multitude of differences in this regard, since He/She created those differences, partially through the exquisite, complex miracle of evolution. I don’t believe anyone needs to mediate with God on my behalf, and I certainly don’t believe God gives other people messages to give to me. My letter box is always open to receive directly from the Source, thanks. In turn, I respect your belief in anything, everything or nothing, as long as you don’t try to inflict those beliefs on me. Arrogance and ignorance are a lethal combination, and it seems to pervade some bastions of organised religion at the moment. A gentleman gave a review of my record on Amazon, and he said that I “dissed” the religion of my father and stepmother. I don’t challenge very many misinterpretations of my work or beliefs, but this one could not go unmentioned. This is absolutely untrue. The religion of my father and stepmother was tolerant, loving, powerful and personal to them, as was the very different religious faith of my mother. I have nothing but respect for that, and for them. My songs are about MY experience, and nothing else. And by the way, they are SONGS, not a diary. Open to interpretation, obviously, but for yourself only.

Gregory Lisenbee sent me this great quote, and for that I thank him:
“The unknown is the mind’s greatest need, and for it no one thinks to thank God.”

Love from Mrs. L

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