I Don't Know What to Do

The place where I've made all of my music the last year or so shot on film

"You don't have to figure your whole life out today," my therapist pointed out in a third story office shadowed by two redwood trees, the natural light of an overcast day pouring through the large street facing windows.

"Oh", I thought to myself. "What a neat reminder and huge relief! And how silly that I even required such a reminder".

The conversation began to take shape as we realized that I feel overwhelmed and stuck in multiple areas of my life, and also, that I truly believe that folks around me have figured something out that I haven't.

"I just can't seem to finish things and I change my mind about everything," I blurted out.

"That is not my experience of you," he replied. "You have completed a record, held onto the same job, invested in lasting relationships, and so much more since we first met".

Admittedly, it feels a bit blasphemous to share moments from therapy sessions on my blog. But at the same time, this felt like the best place to start today's piece.

I, Ashton Y Whittaker, do NOT know what to do.

Over the course of the last few years, I have learned how to exercise the muscle of listening to myself. The ability to really locate what it is I care about in life. It has been quite a beautiful journey, actually. And yet, somehow, I am not sure where to focus my attention currently. It isn't clear to me whether to book a small tour down the coast at bars and restaurants, whether to work with a PR company and carefully craft a release strategy for my new record, whether to move to L.A., whether to reach out to booking agencies who work with the artists I would like to open for, whether to book studio time with some industry-adjacent producer, etc. There are so many directions I could go in, and my time and resources are limited such that I feel that I must be selective and strategic. And really, this not-knowing runs deeper than music. It applies to my whole life, really. Generally speaking, I feel pretty restless and confused. As if I am the victim of a mind virus whose sole purpose is to convince me to want what I can't have at all times. That something or someone can make my life better. Or that if I continue to try, I will continue to fail. Or maybe it's convincing me that risk is too risky. I don't know. My three favorite words apparently.

This morning, I hopped on a call with a local PR company and it went well. The person I spoke with really liked my record and he was pragmatic, down to earth, and experienced. The conversation went well. They're not cheap, but I think they would do a really great job building a narrative for me to pitch to publications around the country. The end goal it sounds like is to have some professional leverage I could utilize when booking shows, reaching out to labels, etc. Were I to work with this company, my record would most likely be released June of 2026, which honestly I'm okay with. There's no rush on my end, especially if I feel like I'm working with folks who actually give a fuck about my music and my story.

I am also working on merch for the first time, which is exciting. Hopefully come December, I will have really sleek, high quality T-shirts and hats available on my site.

In moments of indecision and overwhelm, I have found it helps to take stock of the whole picture, not just the scary stuff. For instance, I have an apartment and I can support myself, I have a great job working alongside great people, I have more financial stability than I ever have really, I have beautiful and close relationships where I can be my true self, I have my bike and extraordinary places to ride it nearby, and I have my health (somehow).

So. It's not all going to happen today. I am okay. I change my mind a lot. That's okay. I'm sitting on a really special record and whether it's next month or next year, I can't wait to share it with you all.