So, I might have moved to Norway

A little over twelve years ago I arrived in the USA with a guitar, a suitcase, and a duvet we’d managed to vacuum pack by shoving it inside a bin bag and painstakingly sucking all of the air out of it.

It’s amazing what you accumulate over that time with getting married, moving across the continental United States, and starting a family; and even though the thought of returning to Europe had crossed our minds, it was still a far off thing. Like the Scottish football team ever qualifying for an international event ever again.

Then came 2020

and twelve years of belongings got macheted in a whirlwind of Goodwill trips and trips to our neighbours. Also, Scotland qualified for the Euro cup.

…

I’ll never forget the moment that we decided to move to LA. I’d just returned from a writing trip there, and the way things were going it seemed like the next logical move. So Rezal and I went to Rudy’s diner in Emeryville, ordered some apple pie, and planned out what was to be the beginning of a four year stint in possibly the craziest place I’ve ever lived.

I already had some exciting things in the works before we even got there, so I arrived fresh-faced and ready to hit the ground at a sprint. It was a boot camp introduction to the music industry, a sudden acceleration from writing on my own time to sessions 5-to-6 days a week; auditing law classes at UCLA on weeknights; toplining for big names and rubbing shoulders with legends; having the biggest pop acts on the planet consider singing what I’d written.

What I wanted most, though

was to find my tribe, my crew that I’d write and rise with in the industry. And I had that at first; a first group of writers and producers who I felt were going to be my forever people. Like a first-ever relationship that is so special you don’t want to imagine it ending and having to start over with someone else.

But life has a way of moving people about, and soon enough each of us started down different paths.

We stayed close, though, and still remain that way, but my quest continued. I moved from camp to camp, writing with some incredible artists, producers, and writers. And then I prayed for confirmations. Literally. I went to Haifa on pilgrimage as a Bahá’í, and spent some time focusing my attention on praying for my career, specifically that I be guided to have meaningful output, work with people who want to create deep, thoughtful art. Sometimes you pray for rain, and you get a monsoon.

The thing about monsoons is, they bring both life and destruction. And 2018 was a monsoon.

Before winter had even ended I was dropped by my management, had a huge potential artist/management deal fall through unceremoniously, had our house burgled as we slept, found out we were going to be parents, and suddenly had to find a new place to live.

Monsoon weather;

it poured and poured, sweeping away what needed to be cleared, and made the way for new life.

It’s from this point on I feel like my time in LA was starting to come to a close, but I just wasn’t quite aware of it yet.

I’d started to realise that I needed to create my new tribe, that my job wouldn’t be to fall into a pre-existing crew, but it was the harder and more rewarding task of having sessions all over LA with those special people who life nudged in my direction. In all of this, though, I knew that I didn’t want this to be my forever home and my forever way of being.

Though I’d searched and searched, and bought more coffee for meetings than I could realistically afford, I couldn’t find the right management or publishing. I felt like a small boat tossed around in the wrong ocean. And I realised that what I really wanted wasn’t in LA.

I wanted slower. I wanted air and trees and rain. I wanted a place for my daughter to grow up. I wanted Scotland, but with a music industry I could thrive in. I wanted to be closer to my parents. I wanted to embrace family life. I wanted relationships built on more than just a risk/benefit ratio. I wanted a career on my terms and not the terms of the completely non-existent work-life balance of Los Angeles.

I wanted all those things that the LA scene in some way shamed me for, either explicitly or implicitly.

So I prayed again

and asked to be simply shown the way.

Because I didn’t want to keep feeling exhausted at fighting for something that maybe wasn’t the best thing for me.

I asked God, the universe, my friends, and my family.

And I looked and searched earnestly.

And out of every place that I’d ever thought I’d ever find the things I wanted and needed, I’d never thought of Norway.

But here we are.

It’s 2020 and nothing makes sense the way it used to.

And honestly, maybe that’s a good thing.

Because sometimes rain has to wash away the old to allow for the new.

See you soon. December 1st, we start our new life in Bergen.