On June 13, 2015, I moved to New York City with one goal: become a writer for Rolling Stone magazine. This was a dream I had ever since I was a kid. Growing up, I would read Rolling Stone and see rock stars living the coolest lives I’d ever seen. I wanted to meet them and tell their story. I visualized the moment when Guns n Roses would reunite and Rolling Stone would assign me the cover story in the same way that William followed Stillwater in Almost Famous.
I read articles by Hunter S. Thompson, Cameron Crowe, David Fricke, and Pete Travers. I treated this like my homework. Actually, I treated this with more respect than my homework.
Shortly after moving here, I landed two gigs writing for New York City music websites. I was going to concerts, interviewing artists, and writing album reviews. I DID IT! It wasn’t Rolling Stone, but I was on my path and it felt great. After five months of music journalism, I realized that it wasn’t as fulfilling as I thought it would be. It was fun, but it started to feel like work. Reading dozens of self-help books taught me that when you’re living your true purpose, it doesn’t feel like work.
The passion for music that I’ve had since I was a child was how I identified myself. I believed that listening to music and writing about it was my purpose for being on this earth. Filling up on Jack Daniels and music trivia was easier than filling up on meditation and learning about who I am. Aside from music mania, my consistent hobbies have been goal coaching, and sharing my story.
Six weeks of sobriety has shown me that I’ve had it backwards this whole time. Maybe those hobbies that allow me to be of service to others is where it’s at. If I’m thriving when helping someone else, that’s all I really need to keep going. I’m now happy to say that I’m finally working towards a role that allows me to help others through goal coaching and sharing my story.
In order to create the space for this passion to truly flourish, I had to talk to my editor at the music web-sites. Those self help books also taught me that I can do anything, but I can’t do everything. I was so nervous on the walk there, creating dramatic scenes in my head. I kept telling myself “You moved here to be a music journalist and you’re about to quit that job to work on something else. This makes no sense. You should stay and keep working towards your goal”. I realized that I was should-ing all over myself. I followed my gut instinct and kept walking towards the meeting. I knew I was making the right choice.
The conversation went well, my editor was incredibly supportive and we agreed that I can stay on as free-lance, submitting pieces when I had the time. We hugged and I went on with my day. My next meeting was a goal coaching session with my friend, Diego. In that 10 minute walk down 5th Ave, I left my past and walked straight towards my future. I saw Diego and I couldn’t help but smile as I reached out to hug the beginning of something new.