The Fortune Cookie Reminder We All Need

MAY 2025

We started watching a new show last week—one of those detective + unlikely partner stories. (You know, like Numb3rs, The Mentalist, Monk, Psych, Castle…)

In this show, Cole is the rule-following detective. Max is the “wild card”—a charismatic con woman on probation. They solve a new case in every episode, tied up with a neat little bow (juuust what I need before bed).

In this particular episode, in the middle of a complicated murder investigation, Max cracks open a fortune cookie and unfolds the white slip of paper inside. There in neat, red letters, it reads:

“No one was put on this earth for only one thing.”

It’s a reminder, an affirmation, a permission slip. And at the end of the episode, it saves a girl’s life.

Deep down, we know it’s true.

But as musicians, we often focus only on what we do best. It’s our art, our craft, our creative output. Every performance, every program, every lesson, every practice session—renewing, refining.

It feels like an extension of our very selves.

But as I shared in The Monthly Report (my once-a-month email newsletter for self-employed musicians—sign up here), your identity is more than what you do

Your musical identity is how you see yourself—as a performer, teacher, learner, and listener. 

Researchers say musical identity is something we do, rather than something we have. It’s part of who you are, but it’s not everything you are.

You are more than your instrument. More than your degrees or training. More than your job title. Your creativity and experience reach farther than you think.

No one was put on this earth for only one thing.


I've been reading Kelly Bishop's memoir, The Third Gilmore Girl. She started her career as a dancer—from ballet to Broadway—then shifted into lead character roles and acting.

But she always felt insecure about her singing voice: “There was no way around it; it just wasn't lovely to listen to, and it never would be,” she writes. It wasn't until she saw Elaine Stritch perform Sondheim's “The Ladies Who Lunch” that she realized, “I can do that after all!” And so she did.

We build and rebuild our identities all the time.

They’re the stories we tell ourselves and others. They’re informed and shaped by people, places, and experiences. And they evolve and change with us.


Black and white photo of Music Box Theatre NYC | Ashley Danyew

“You don't have to miss out on the joy of learning something you're passionate about. If it's in you, it's out there waiting for you.”

- Kelly Bishop, The Third Gilmore Girl: A Memoir


What stories have you been telling yourself lately? What’s something you’ve been telling yourself you can’t be?

This month, notice how you show up in your work and life. What parts of yourself do you see? What might they be teaching you?

 

Disclosure: I get commissions for purchases made through links in this post.