There’s so much information, what do you want to know?
So many beautiful places, where do you want to go?
So many important causes, where do you want to give?
So many inspirational stories, how do you want to live?
These thoughts inspired my next song, which I wrote in early 2016. I was feeling a bit overwhelmed at the time – I was working full-time and raising three boys and felt stretched too thin. My inbox was overflowing (metaphorically) with unanswered emails, my desk was covered with papers to address and laundry went unfolded for days. I did, however, meet my weekly newspaper deadlines.
Falling behind on correspondence wasn’t intentional. When I read a birthday party invitation for one of my children, I mentally noted that I needed to check with my husband when I got home to see what his tutoring schedule was so we could coordinate childcare. But then the invitation would get buried in my inbox until a week or so until I received the automatic evite reminder. Same with practically every email. I’d read the message on my phone as I was out and intended to reply when I got back.
I could go on and on about all the things I intended to do. Really nice, thoughtful things. But the problem was, I never actually did them. Hence this song: “Good Intentions.”
The opening lines addresses all the choices we have in our lives. Is there anything you want to know about? We no longer open an encyclopedia to answer questions, we search online and find pages and pages of answers to many of our questions. Want to plan a vacation? There are so many places. What organizations or causes should you support? Who are people that inspire you? There are so many options for everything, it can be paralyzing because what if you make a wrong choice?
I’m full of good intentions
Though I rarely follow through
I’m a little overwhelmed
By all the things I need to do
Next comes the impact of technology on our lives:
I can’t remember my password
I’m having trouble logging in
My to-do list is growing
I’m not sure where to begin
Email, Gmail, Facebook, Twitter
I need apps to tell me where I’m going
And to remind me where I am
Sometimes you just need to unplug and recharge…
When every conversation
Seems to lead to an obligation
I have the inclination
To not pick up the phone
With a limited amount of hours
and an absence of magical powers
I need time to smell the flowers
I need time to be alone
Here is the song:
In December 2016, the friend of mine who invited me to her synagogue’s Hanukkah coffeehouse the previous year invited me again, this time we performed this song together, with a few edits to make it into a duet:
Can I still relate to this song nearly three years later?