Alternate Chapter 1: The Consequence of Having a Vision...? (draft) (Patreon)

The Ridleys is a band that encourages human connection.

But sometimes, I think of friends and family whom I don't talk to anymore, not because I have intentionally cut ties with them, but because there are only so many hours in a day. By writing about this, I run the risk of sounding arrogant. That's the last thing I want to be, so let me make this clear: I don't think The Ridleys are a famous band. Not at all. We've done so many out-of-town gigs where a number of people asked, "Who the hell are these guys?" But we're not out to be celebrities; we aspire to be artists that connect with people through our songs. Many times, we get to achieve that goal, even with people who didn't know us initially. Making and sharing music makes me feel alive.

My vision for The Ridleys is to be a band that authentically, genuinely, and organically connects with people by telling stories about love and life through songs crafted with intentionality. To achieve this vision, there's just so much work to be done. We're always in the process of writing new songs that speak to people, sharing these songs live whenever we can, interacting with our listeners, making sure our own internal team is healthy so we can sustainably keep doing this. That means more studio time, more travel, more internal meetings. And don't get me started on the business side of things. This isn't just a passion project either; music pays the bills. Music has become work for us, and that's not a bad thing at all.

Being a people pleaser, there's a sense of guilt when I think about the relationships I have lost because of the time I spend writing new music and working with the band. There are certain friends I just cannot find time to hang out with, even if I would want to. There are family members I used to be close with; now we barely talk. I used to be so active in my church ministry; now I can't even show up consistently because gig schedules are unpredictable. As I become more extroverted in the music scene, I become even more introverted in my personal life. When I come home from work, I would rather spend time with my wife, Sofia, my parents, my siblings-in-law, my parents-in-law, and even the band in a non-work setting. Everyone else in my life? "Only when I have the time," I tell myself. And even when I do have the time, I would rather spend that time with myself.

I try to convince myself that this is "the consequence of having a vision." I'm just too focused on what I want to do. I've found my purpose, my dream job. I can't fumble this. But as I write, I see the intentions of my heart more clearly: I'm terrified of feeling rejected and discouraged again.

All my life, I've always wanted to do music. There are a few who understood this, but I feel that there were many others who didn't. I understand that music is an unconventional pursuit, and that a sensible person would warn an aspiring artist against pursuing it as a career. Even I would caution people from recklessly pursuing art full-time. So, when I tell my close friends and family that I aspire to make great art, I understand if they ask questions like, "Do you have any backup plans?" To which I reply, "Yes. Several." Then I end up talking about my current jobs to support my music - church staff from 2018-2020, freelance transcriber from 2021-2022, community manager from 2022-2023.

But I never got to talk about my real passion. Since I was so busy defending myself and explaining that I do indeed have a plan for my life, I never got to share my vision with them. I'm sure those people loved me, but they never took the time to understand what I really wanted to do. It really hurts when people you're close to shut you off and prevent you from sharing what's really in your heart.

To this day, even when they ask about music, it feels so condescending. I know I'm supposed to have "made it," and people in my industry have told me that. But still, I get various questions and comments from my family members now that I've poured out all my time in music.

"Do you get paid for your music?" one of my relatives asked, ss if money-making was the only important thing about music. But yes, actually, I get to earn more from music than I ever did with my three past jobs combined. I hate that I have to defend myself.

"So now you don't work?" another relative commented. This made me so mad. If only they knew the hours I put in this pursuit. I don't want to have to defend myself, but my team and my listeners know how much effort I pour into this work. I've had friends who didn't get it at first, but instantly did the moment they stepped into my world - the moment they went to a gig and saw people singing along, encouraged by the songs that they hear. This is my work. I don't just do this music thing for me. I do it for the listeners. I do it for my team.

"You must be living the sweet life, huh?" remarked another relative. I am, honestly, but there's just something that irks me about the way that they ask. Is it because I'm one of the youngest cousins in the family? Is it because they think I didn't lift a finger to get here? See, I'm an only child. I'm so grateful for my parents, actually, because they believed in my vision and supported me the best way they could. But my parents aren't music executives who got me in the top labels or paid for radio play. They didn't write my songs for me. My parents did a lot for me, and I didn't take that for granted. Instead, I built upon their support and did a lot for myself as well.

The more I write about this, the less guilty I am about the people I cut off. The more I understand that I might actually be angry. I'm not so terrified anymore. When I think about the many people who don't understand me, I think about the few key people who do.

I think about my parents, who have supported me ever since I was young. My mom listened to me every time I talked about my passion, and she even encouraged me to take music in college. I was the one who insisted on taking a non-music course, so that I had a backup plan. My dad supported me the best way he could: by buying me my first guitars and recording equipment. I grew up with privilege. It was a privilege to have loving parents who not only provided for me financially but also believed that I could make something of my life. Every time the band reaches a new milestone, they are the people to hear about it.

I remember my father-in-law, who is a pastor. In 2021, two years before asking for Sofia's hand in marriage, I approached him and my mother-in-law to ask for advice. I told them that I wanted to pursue music, but I was scared of not making any money. With tears in my eyes, I told them that if they weren't comfortable with their daughter marrying a musician, they could tell me, and I wouldn't take it against them. To my surprise, they only told me one thing: "Follow God's will for your life, and everything else will follow. Is music God's will for your life? If it is, then trust that He will see you through." I cried even more.

Of course, I would never forget my wife, Sofia, who pleaded with me never to give up on my music. She is my daily encouragement, a vessel of God's deep involvement in my life. I will write about her more in this book.

I'm a pessimist. I tend to focus on the negative things I shouldn't be focusing on. Why am I writing the first chapter about people who never believed in me, when there are so many good things to turn my attention to?

Now I hope you understand why The Ridleys' songs are full of hope and positivity. It's not because I'm naturally a ray of sunshine. There's a darkness in me. Like any human, I deal with hurt, fear, and anxiety. My art is my weapon and my guiding light.

I hope you understand why I do my best to encourage my listeners (and now my readers). If you have your own vision, a vision of how to make a positive impact in the world and live a life full of purpose, I encourage you to seriously consider that more seriously. That vision can come true in a way you never expected, like how it happened for me, but that desire isn't in you for nothing. Reflect on the dreams you have and see if it's from God. If it is, then you have nothing to fear.

If you're on the journey to realizing God's vision for your life, know that you're not alone. The road is long, and many challenges will come your way, but something beautiful will be found at the end of it.

Thought experiment: What if my family's discouragement becomes true? What if I don't make money from music anymore? Then, I will be grateful for this beautiful time in my life that I get to write songs, travel, and connect with people. I will tell my kids about it, hopefully inspiring them to come up with their own personal goals. After that, I will pray to God and ask God for guidance. Should I still continue making music? Are there still songs in me, or should I encourage people in another way? What skills from my music career can I apply in my new work, so I can continue providing from my family? How can I be more like you in this pursuit, Jesus?

The more I write this, the more I realize that the vision of music, great as it is, is just a means to a greater vision: to be like Christ, to see Him face-to-face, and to sing for Him if possible.