Sometimes you gotta look behind you to see how far you've come

Today was a good day. The Glide Ensemble had an afternoon gig at The Gap headquarters, where we kicked off the company's Holiday Sing-Along. This was news to most of us, and I think we surprised them by singing absolutely no holiday tunes.

Afterward we all went out to dinner to celebrate a bunch of November birthdays. And then we had a short rehearsal, which was probably for the best, since we were all overstuffed with Indian food and giving off waves of curry.

Leah gave me a ride home. She seemed rather down and I asked her what was wrong.

"Oh, I'm just having a bad day," she said. "Well, I guess I'm kind of having a bad month."

"What's going on?" I asked.

She sighed. "I'm just going through one of those phases where I feel like I have no business being a singer. Everything sounds like crap. November is such a weird month, gigs are slow. I don't know what I'm doing." She merged onto the highway. "I should just go work at the animal shelter."

Now, this is Leah. Leah who was awarded the Best R&B Blues Song of 2007 by the Billboard World Song Contest. Leah who's working on her second album. Leah who headlines her own band and gigs with several others. Leah, the inspiration for me to follow my own dream of becoming a singer.

Leah, who was now saying, "I suck."

I gave a disbelieving laugh. "You do not suck," I told her.

"I do," she insisted. "I listen to my tracks in the studio and I think: 'This sucks'." She paused. "I guess we all have days like that though."

Huh. Do we ever. I spent the last two days sorting through audio and video clips for my upcoming website. I can't find any that I like. Every time I hear my own voice I wince - all I hear are my mistakes. My vibrato is out of control. My performance is inconsistent. As a matter of fact, just last night I was comparing one of my songs to one of Leah's and marveling at her vocal composure. She always delivers a strong, solid performance. But my voice is sort of all over the place. And it had me feeling kind of down. I wondered: Am I really good enough to sing for a living?

I said, "Leah, don't you know that you're the person I'm trying to be?"

"You don't want to be me!" she said. "You want to be you!"

"All right," I conceded, "I want to be my version of you. I mean, you're doing it. You're working on your second album. You gig all the time. You're making a living. Didn't you tell me not too long ago that you're the happiest you've ever been?"

"Well, yeah," she said. "My life is pretty good."

"See?" I said. "You're a happy, working musician. That's success in my book. That's the place I'm trying to get to."

What I was trying to impress upon her, and I fear I didn't quite get my point across, is that to me, she is the embodiment of a dream made attainable. Since I was a kid I've had visions of being a singer. They were big dreams, stadium dreams, and they scared me away because I didn't think I could possibly fulfill them. But then I met Leah, and other people like Vernon, Zoe, Martin and Emma Jean, real people - my friends! - who are actually making a living with their voices. And suddenly the dream didn't seem so out of reach. They gave me the courage to pursue it.

We probably do all have days when we feel like we suck. I'm glad I'm not alone in that feeling, to be honest. But what always surprises me is that even on my lousiest day, I find somebody to be my champion. I can have a dismal performance and somebody will tell me with shining eyes, "That was beautiful."

And though I may secretly be thinking, 'This person is tone deaf,' I will smile and thank them. Because what I'm learning is that I can't always be trusted to gauge my own progress. And what I bring to the song is only half of the experience - the other half is what the listener brings.

Listening to my friend Leah makes me feel inspired. Even on an off day she blows me away.

Now go buy her album.