Joy Williams Music

Life has been crazy lately. The Civil Wars went on tour with Seabird for a few weeks, playing a different city every night, sleeping sporadically, cramming in a van filled with 6 dudes, trekking through LOTS of snow, and laughing all the while. Amidst it all, I was being so diligent, too - washing my hands constantly, taking vitamins, drinking water, eating as healthy as possible. And then - BAM! - on the last night of tour I got slammed with an illness that ended up sadly cutting a string of New York City shows for The Civil Wars short.

There is something humbling about getting sick. There is something humbling further still when you lose your voice. I have been coughing like a champion so much in the last 72 hours that my stomach muscles hurt, and all that hacking has caused my voice to tap out. As much as I would love to call you back, Sir...and call you back, M'lady...my body says "I don't think so"...and I have been given no other option but to listen.

To listen, indeed. Closing my mouth has been quite a teacher over the years. It is so easy to forget the sheer beauty, wisdom and importance of listening. Several years ago, I was singing 250 days a year, and I was performing "too much, too loud, too often" as the specialists diagnosed when I began having problems. Their requirement of me? To go on a month-long fast from speaking or singing, etc. Whispering was even a no-no. I had to be absolutely silent.

Looking back on that time of absolute quiet, I have few memories of feeling isolated. More so, I have pleasant memories! Simply being given the duty to listen and not speak taught me so much about how useless so much of my daily chattering really was at the time. Shutting my mouth really allowed me to see how beautifully layered other people around me are, how fascinating their stories are woven together, and how important it is to not let those moments of listening just pass by...but to engage that. To embrace it. To try to not just HEAR someone else, but to really LISTEN to someone else. I learned more about people in general & about nuances of the soul in that span of time than almost any other that I can remember. It was a condensed course in getting outside my own sphere, my own routine, and it forced me to look outward as it taught me inwardly, as well.

Today, I am reminded by my forced quiet yet again how a sickness like this can help me reprioritize. And though I'm not stoked to have had to cancel shows, or to feel like I'm coughing up a lung or two waking up in the morning, I am thankful for the reminder that life is precious. Health matters more than my calendar. People matter more than my to-do list. Life is too short.

I hope NONE of you get sick anytime soon, but that you stay happy and healthy this celebratory season. But I DO hope that, during this busy holiday time, you can make space to take some moments to quiet yourself. To remember what really matters. To take time, and to truly spend time listening, investing in others.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and all kinds of happy to you this year! :)

"It is a solemn thing for a soul to grow ripe" - Emily Dickenson

A solemn and beautiful thing indeed. A very wise woman that I know passed this quote around a room that I happened to be sitting in a few days ago. These words have be sunning on the porch of my brain ever since, warming into new thoughts each passing day.

When I first read the word "solemn" in great Emily's quote, my initial connotations took me towards feelings of sadness, of heavy-ness...as if this word were a black suit with no smile lines on its face. But as I've been pondering solemnity more, the starched suit has been replaced with more of a sacred skinny dip into a midnight lake. A quiet, invigoratingly personal journey towards living more fully. Solemn has now begun to sound sacred, deeply meaningful, necessary and rich...

I am sitting in my home this late morning, pondering how magical this week has been. And I don't mean magical as in flawless, or without tears, but the kind that reminds me of being fully alive in my own skin. Thankfully tapping into the ruddy earthiness found within the changing seasons of a soul. Embracing that new wrinkle on my face without disdain, because it carries stories with it. Remembering the richness of truly FEELING - of losing and learning, of old chapters becoming new ones as the elements ripen experiences...of feeling the beautiful growing pains of a heart expanding over time. It is a sacred thing, indeed.

I am saying goodbye to my 26th year in less than 24 hours, and stepping into year 27 very excited for what is to come. I have a feeling this is going to be a big year of soul ripening in every way. Thanks for coming along the journey with me. Hope you have a great weekend.

Hours melted to days which then melted to weeks on the road. I cannot tell you how much FUN being on the Ten Out Of Tenn tour was. Each city had it's own flavor to take in, with it's own creative brand of people to enjoy, and we TOT'ers played each night like it was our last. As a bohemian family, we watched Fall dust over the South, Midwest and East Coast during this picturesque time of year. I have countless fond memories walking city sidewalks with the crew, in search of coffee or that shop all the locals said we had to go visit. Scarves. Chill in the air. Dinners out together. New friends made out on the road. Charlotte, Richmond, Chicago, Boston, New York City and more... memories that will last a lifetime.

And then, as if we all sat down to watch a movie in fast forward, it all suddenly came to a halting end. Finishing a run of nearly 20 gigs together, invisible credits rolled as we sang our last show in Nashville. We all savored the evening with as much non-teary bliss as we could muster, singing out a little stronger...looking at each other with fondness and the awareness that this was it for now. Hugs all around afterward. Promises to see each other soon over coffee dates, double dates and future gigs together.

We all have hit the ground running, it seems. For example, Andrew Belle is back up in NYC playing gigs, Madi Diaz is driving around town with a respected producer picking out the site for her amazing music to be recorded, KS Rhoads is back out on the road with Erin McCarley, and I have spent the last week writing 9-14 hours a day with David Archuleta...not to mention shoring up last minute tweaks for a studio EP plus a music video shoot for The Civil Wars. We have all been having fun, and we've also been hopping!

But today is one of those rare days where quiet called out over the chaos. The hum of the bus is no longer around, no vocal booths calling out today to be sung in. And so the non-noise begins to speak...reminding my mind that I need to be left to wander and soak in thoughts. To reflect...to pray. And in this peaceful moment, I am thinking intently today of my friends whose lives are in the midst of drastic change. One of my dear friends, Missy, was very recently diagnosed with thyroid cancer. She bravely went into surgery to have her thyroid and some related glands removed just yesterday. My other friend and kindred spirit, Brie, is being given pitocin as I type for her overdue baby boy inside. It is a wondrous, curious juxtaposition: one friend literally having death removed from her body, while another friend is pushing life out of hers.

I am sobered and hopeful today, reminded that life is so layered...so complex...so precious. I'm reminded to keep things in order of true importance even amidst all this busy-ness. To remember...to reflect...to listen...and to love. Because it can all go by in fast-forward if I we don't stop and look around. Hope this note finds you well wherever you are on this Fall Wednesday...