"When Honesty Becomes the Win."

There are moments when music isn’t about meeting a deadline, completing a challenge, or checking a box.

Sometimes, music arrives simply because it needs to be shared.

Pamela reminded me of that in a beautiful way.

As the Christmas season came and went, Pamela didn’t complete the Christmas Song Challenge in the way she originally intended. But instead of turning away from the piano — or turning that into disappointment — she chose something far more meaningful.

She shared her Solstice Song.

What followed wasn’t judgment or comparison. It was a connection.

Her fellow students responded with kindness, generosity, and understanding. They didn’t hear imperfections — they heard honesty. They didn’t focus on what wasn’t finished — they felt what was true.

Pamela described how her song carried what was in her heart through her hands at the piano. Even with a vocal that felt less than perfect and piano playing still in progress, the emotion came through.

And that is the point.

Music doesn’t exist to prove we’re ready.
It exists to help us express what words can’t.

Pamela was also navigating real challenges at the time — battling asthma, adjusting to new medications, and doing the best she could with the energy and voice she had. Still, she chose to share. Still, she decided to create.

That choice matters.

Her song speaks about the Solstice — about emerging from darkness into the Light with love. And in sharing it, she offered something generous: a wish for happiness, good health, and peace to those listening.

You can hear her song, The Longest Night, here:
https://s.disco.ac/xjqtutiyfqkh 

What Pamela experienced is something I see again and again: when we release the pressure to be perfect, we give music room to do what it’s meant to do.

It connects.
It comforts.
It heals.

The song did its job — not because it was flawless, but because it was real.

And that is a win worth celebrating.

You can read Pamela’s full story. And if her journey speaks to you, maybe it’s time to begin your own.

With gratitude,
Stephen Ridley