You don't know me. I'm a fan. I just read your most recent email about wanting to be an old rock and roller. Though I've considered reaching out to you a couple times, tonight I feel inspired to do it, to tell you just how much you've reached your higher goal - to inspire.
I saw you perform live at the Somerville Theatre, circa 1999. At the time I was pretty depressed. I was highly functional and fighting the good fight, but inside, not happy in my own skin. I think you might know what I'm talking about.
When I heard you sing The Cloud Song, tears streamed down my face, my nose ran like a faucet, and my mascara smeared everywhere. I saw in you, something that resonated so deeply, I felt huge admiration, and even envy. Maybe part of it was that we share some similarities. I, too, am petite with wavy, blond hair. We're likely the same age, height and weight, and like you, I like to dress well and flaunt my figure. I, too, come from Jewish heritage from Eastern Europe and am a fellow deep feeler.
Yet, where we differ is that you had the guts to be a creative. I did not. I only dreamt of playing an instrument and singing on stage. Being part of a band and getting to play music all the time....it seemed dreamy. I didn't have even one, small glimpse of the courage at that point.
That night of your show, I tried to pull myself together and hide my tears from my friends. Not sure I was successful at hiding them, or if my friends at the time had enough presence to notice my big emotions. I bought your CD and listened to The Cloud Song, pretty much non-stop for the next 5 years. I memorized it and would sing it along with you over and over and over. I might dare to say it's possible I've sung it as many times as you have!
Fast forward another ten years (circa 2009) and we both had left the Boston area. I was living in Washington, DC and was then out of my decade long depression and dating a good man, an incredible musician no less. I saw in one of your emails that you were performing at some dive bar in northern Virginia so we went to your show. I still admired you so much. At your show, I was starstruck by your courage and talent. You sang The Cloud Song that night.
Afterwards, we were both in the bathroom at the same time, and I chickened out, but I wanted to show you the tattoo I had gotten about a year before, to officially declare and recognize the end of my depression. That tattoo (still my only one) is a line, written in cursive across the curve of my low back and says "Said the smile to the tear, you're the reason I am here." That line had been a tether for me for ten years. When I was isolating from the world, too ashamed to show my true self to anyone, that was the line that I repeated to myself, my prayer to the universe, asking for it to come true. I endured the suffering of my own making, the self-doubt and criticism, hoping that someday, my smile could say that to some future tear of joy and gratitude.
Fast forward another ten years (circa 2019) and I had left the DC area, moved to Vermont and gotten married. By this point, my depression was far enough behind me and I had done enough deep personal work to be a successful life coach. I was finally able to allow myself the investment of time and money to learn to play an instrument and sing. All those years of secretly holding the dream of being musical and I had reached the monumental threshold of a willingness to try it. Now, 2025, and I play the ukulele and sing my heart out. I'm not performance ready, but I practice at home, take lessons, I'm part of a women's chorus, and a weekly chanting group. I can't get enough singing!
I'm still a fan of yours and still reading all your emails. The one I just read tonight resonated, like so much of your work does. You wrote about your old limiting belief "Why should I ask for attention? Was I just being self-centered?" and how you have been able to transform that into purpose - your Northstar. Again, that resonated. I, too, have been asking that question around my love for writing. I too, have reached some powerful clarity that my higher goal is to inspire my readers.
You asked "What would it look like to use your ego for good?" My answer tonight? Use my love for writing to share with you how much you've inspired me over the years. You have made a big difference in my life. In some very small way, what I've offered in return is, for all who ask me about my tattoo, I share this story, tell them about you and send them the Spotify link to "The Cloud Song".
Thank you for writing a line that tethered me to a more hopeful future. It has become true! Whenever I look over my right shoulder to catch a glimpse of my tattoo, all I can see is "I am Here". That's my smile.
Thank you for your contribution to the world. Thank you for your beautiful, heartfelt music. "I am Here."
Leslie, wow - thank you for sharing all this. I’m so glad you are finding your own courage and exploring writing and music in ways that light you up. It’s a journey for all of us! It means the world to have inspired you. I’m bowled over. And the tattoo is super cool to hear about. Hope to see you soon. 😊🙏🏻
Jess, thanks for the reply. Someday, if and when I get to see you in concert again, I will show you my tattoo of your lyric. Keep on inspiring! You're an inspirational person for sure!
Jess,
You don't know me. I'm a fan. I just read your most recent email about wanting to be an old rock and roller. Though I've considered reaching out to you a couple times, tonight I feel inspired to do it, to tell you just how much you've reached your higher goal - to inspire.
I saw you perform live at the Somerville Theatre, circa 1999. At the time I was pretty depressed. I was highly functional and fighting the good fight, but inside, not happy in my own skin. I think you might know what I'm talking about.
When I heard you sing The Cloud Song, tears streamed down my face, my nose ran like a faucet, and my mascara smeared everywhere. I saw in you, something that resonated so deeply, I felt huge admiration, and even envy. Maybe part of it was that we share some similarities. I, too, am petite with wavy, blond hair. We're likely the same age, height and weight, and like you, I like to dress well and flaunt my figure. I, too, come from Jewish heritage from Eastern Europe and am a fellow deep feeler.
Yet, where we differ is that you had the guts to be a creative. I did not. I only dreamt of playing an instrument and singing on stage. Being part of a band and getting to play music all the time....it seemed dreamy. I didn't have even one, small glimpse of the courage at that point.
That night of your show, I tried to pull myself together and hide my tears from my friends. Not sure I was successful at hiding them, or if my friends at the time had enough presence to notice my big emotions. I bought your CD and listened to The Cloud Song, pretty much non-stop for the next 5 years. I memorized it and would sing it along with you over and over and over. I might dare to say it's possible I've sung it as many times as you have!
Fast forward another ten years (circa 2009) and we both had left the Boston area. I was living in Washington, DC and was then out of my decade long depression and dating a good man, an incredible musician no less. I saw in one of your emails that you were performing at some dive bar in northern Virginia so we went to your show. I still admired you so much. At your show, I was starstruck by your courage and talent. You sang The Cloud Song that night.
Afterwards, we were both in the bathroom at the same time, and I chickened out, but I wanted to show you the tattoo I had gotten about a year before, to officially declare and recognize the end of my depression. That tattoo (still my only one) is a line, written in cursive across the curve of my low back and says "Said the smile to the tear, you're the reason I am here." That line had been a tether for me for ten years. When I was isolating from the world, too ashamed to show my true self to anyone, that was the line that I repeated to myself, my prayer to the universe, asking for it to come true. I endured the suffering of my own making, the self-doubt and criticism, hoping that someday, my smile could say that to some future tear of joy and gratitude.
Fast forward another ten years (circa 2019) and I had left the DC area, moved to Vermont and gotten married. By this point, my depression was far enough behind me and I had done enough deep personal work to be a successful life coach. I was finally able to allow myself the investment of time and money to learn to play an instrument and sing. All those years of secretly holding the dream of being musical and I had reached the monumental threshold of a willingness to try it. Now, 2025, and I play the ukulele and sing my heart out. I'm not performance ready, but I practice at home, take lessons, I'm part of a women's chorus, and a weekly chanting group. I can't get enough singing!
I'm still a fan of yours and still reading all your emails. The one I just read tonight resonated, like so much of your work does. You wrote about your old limiting belief "Why should I ask for attention? Was I just being self-centered?" and how you have been able to transform that into purpose - your Northstar. Again, that resonated. I, too, have been asking that question around my love for writing. I too, have reached some powerful clarity that my higher goal is to inspire my readers.
You asked "What would it look like to use your ego for good?" My answer tonight? Use my love for writing to share with you how much you've inspired me over the years. You have made a big difference in my life. In some very small way, what I've offered in return is, for all who ask me about my tattoo, I share this story, tell them about you and send them the Spotify link to "The Cloud Song".
Thank you for writing a line that tethered me to a more hopeful future. It has become true! Whenever I look over my right shoulder to catch a glimpse of my tattoo, all I can see is "I am Here". That's my smile.
Thank you for your contribution to the world. Thank you for your beautiful, heartfelt music. "I am Here."
With love,
Leslie Zucker
www.lesliezucker.com
Leslie, wow - thank you for sharing all this. I’m so glad you are finding your own courage and exploring writing and music in ways that light you up. It’s a journey for all of us! It means the world to have inspired you. I’m bowled over. And the tattoo is super cool to hear about. Hope to see you soon. 😊🙏🏻
Jess, thanks for the reply. Someday, if and when I get to see you in concert again, I will show you my tattoo of your lyric. Keep on inspiring! You're an inspirational person for sure!
💗💗💗