Wishing for success? Stop comparing yourself to others | Luciole | TEDxCannes

This talk was given at a TEDx event, organized independently from TED conferences.

Why do the transitions we all experience in our lives frighten and hurt us? Beyond the leap into the unknown, the reflex of wanting to compare oneself to others can be very painful. This tendency can feed the careers of artists, who live with it every day, but they need to learn to overcome it in order to create. Singer-songwriter Luciole tells us how an artist can go beyond their doubts and towards the light.

Author, composer, performer from the slam scene, Luciole uses words and melodies as raw material that touches on opposites: childhood and adulthood, shadow and light, hot and cold, stillness and movement. The music becomes more dense, becomes comfortable and larger. Luciole loves contrasts. She sings, tells stories, and oscillates between poetry and modernity. She has a taste for chance encounters and paths that cross.

(In spoken verse) From time to time,

Would you mind

Taking me away from it all, just ...

Going to the sea, just ...

Letting it lick our feet, just ...

Pretending to forget,

Feeling every grain of sand
touch our palms and soles

Feeling each piece of algae
caress our ankles

Feeling the whole sky in our hair

Blowing.

From time to time,

Would you mind

Surprising me at a street corner

Forgetting I asked you,
saying I'm astonished,

Pleasantly surprised,

And after a start I jump

into your arms

And after looking deep
into your eyes indiscreetly

to find something,

I steal a kiss from you

to put in my pocket and keep
for when you're gone

And because I'd feel alone
with all these people around.

Then I'll take it slowly
in the palm of my hand

And slowly put it on my cheek, there.

See?

Can you feel how soft it is?

Can you feel it?

From time to time,

Would you mind

Carrying me on your back,

Whisking me away lightly,
far from the earth

Where everything is so beautiful,

Like the traces of your back,
like the curves of your back,

Melody of my senses,
you can see how I think

And my feet are so heavy
and my verses are so fleeting

My "if's" and my syllables
grind me and plow me

I leave ink footprints on the sidewalk.

So just for once,

Could you carry me?

From time to time,

Would you mind letting me caress you

With the tip of my pen,

With my fingertips?

I'll redraw your face

The way one sketches a landscape.

I'll do it on a misty day
to hide my emotions a little

And my "what-about-me's"

My "I's," my games,

Just for you, just for the two of us.

You know,

It's so easy.

I just have one last request

I won't keep you much longer

I just wanted to ask you

If from time to time you wouldn't mind

Saying "You and me,"

Like in the movies

saying, "We," that's all.

Saying, "You send me,"

saying, "You shake me,"

saying, "You intoxicate me,"
saying "You inspire me,"

Saying "you" again and again
at the top of your lungs

because deep in my head
you're overflowing.

Saying, "Your kisses burn me, carry me,"

Saying, "I like you,"

And more, yes.

From time to time,

Would you mind taking me away
from it all, you know, just ...

(End spoken verse)

(Singing) Going to the sea

Letting it lick our feet, just ...

Pretending to forget

For between you and me

The one I prefer

is you.

(End singing)

(Speaking) It's with those lines

that I won The French Slam
Championship in 2005.

It's true!

(Applause)

Thank you.

You probably weren't expecting
a slam champion to look like this, right?

So what is "slam"?

It's an open stage where anyone
in the audience can express themselves.

You have three minutes
to do whatever you want.

No props, music or set decoration -

just words, voice, body.

A field of free expression,

where rappers, poets,
storytellers, singers

or simply word lovers

can meet, share.

It's rather similar
to what we're doing here today,

although TEDx is not a slam scene.

It isn't! You can't come onstage
after me, sorry!

Well, except for the people
hidden backstage, waiting for their turn.

I've always been attracted to the stage,

since childhood.

I'd sing all the time

and imagine doing super-dramas
in costume for my parents.

I thought only other people
could make a living out of it.

It was a childhood dream.

Today, I'm a singer-songwriter

and performer.

That's my job.

Discovering slam at 17 was a catalyst.

That's when I realized

how I really wanted to climb onstage,

I also realized
I wanted to write to be ...

heard.

Suddenly everything became possible!

And when, at 20, I left everything
to make a record,

I wasn't afraid at all,
that much was clear.

Today, I refer to that time as the most
spontaneous summer of my life.

I released my first album in 2009,

then a second one in 2015.

Between the two releases,
the world of music changed a lot.

I self-produced the second album, "Une."

The songs were ready,
and I didn't want to wait

for a record company to decide
whether to produce it.

I ended up being an entrepreneur,

a ship captain.

Within that period
of movement, of transition,

I had to learn a new trade --

in fact, many trades:

producer, head of marketing,

project manager, community manager,

caught in a whirlwind
of emails, of logistics,

a flurry of goals and mandatory codes
that you have to follow

when you want to make a record.

Gradually,

I lost control,

forgetting that, hidden
under the multiple hats,

I was an artist,

first and foremost.

(Singing) All around,

thoughts dancing back and forth

All around, thoughts dancing
back and forth

I put them

I put them on

I put them on

my boat

I put them

I put them on

I put them onto my boat

My paper boat

And I let them sail away

(End singing)

(Applause)

My record was released.

I managed to find help,
partners to accompany me,

I received a lot of praise but …

something was wrong.

I felt disappointment,

frustration

and even guilt.

I felt I had somehow failed

when, at my level,
it was quite the opposite.

How did I get there?

I compared myself.

I constantly compared my project
to other people's.

I felt they managed better than me;

I was fooled by all the images of success

that you see on social networks,
on the Internet.

In fact, many people
must have thought the same about me

when visiting my Facebook page,
always full of good news.

We only highlight the positive.

We almost never talk about our trials.

And suddenly, we feel
we are the only one facing difficulties.

But of course that's not true.

We all face them.

We might be better off
talking about them more often, right?

Me, I never did enough.

Though I worked from morning to night
seven days a week -

never enough.

I spent my time on the phone
or on my computer.

I wasn't spending any time writing.

For me, the captain,

it was a terrible inner storm.

And a downpour.

I was - am - so proud of this album.

I loved every bit of it!

And despite that,
I saw my glass as half empty.

I focused on what remained to be filled,

rather than on the road already traveled.

I'd get up in the morning
with this question looping in my head:

What's the point?

It was time to sound the alarm

and respond to it.

At one point, I just couldn't enjoy
my success anymore,

even though my childhood dream

was right there, before very my eyes.

I released 2 CD’s, I won prizes.

I sang at major festivals
in beautiful venues like the Olympia,

took part in many wonderful projects

and above all,

I make a living out of my art.

How lucky I am!
It should be absolute bliss!

But at one point,

I forgot who I was and why
I was doing all those things.

But the important thing
is to realize it, right?

It's normal to doubt.

It's not a straight road.

It's hectic. It's a journey.

Today, I want to look at my glass,

see it as half full,

and love this half, find it beautiful.

I want to continue to write,

cultivate my singularity

and stop comparing myself to others,

because that's what paralyzes me.

Most of all, I don't want to lose sight
of that one reason so fundamental,

that it's the answer every time
I ask, "What's the point?" -

because I love what I do
more than anything else.

Because I love looking for
the right words,

listening to how they sound.

Because I love sharing them
onstage with my voice,

my hands, my face and my bare feet!

Because it is vital for me

and I can't imagine doing
anything else with my life.

That's why I make music,

not to achieve this vision of success

that the world wants to impose on us.

I have succeeded.

And it's icing on the cake
if, within my words,

people recognize themselves.

(Singing) When silence screams

It becomes deafening

Tiny sounds

Become a giant's cries

Our words are compasses,
our guides on the ocean

Words as continent

That's what we'll keep

When the clouds speed by
and we can't touch them

On the tender island blue
impossible to land

Our words are three-masted ships
sailing in these clouds

Our words like sailboats

That's what we'll keep.

And when the sky weeps,
darkening with sobs

So the sounds, the colors,
get caught in the scrolls

Our words at arm's length
are our weapons, our torches

Our words as flags

That's what we'll keep.

When the doors are closed
and we're left outside

Knocking helplessly
with our hands, our bodies,

Our words will remain there,
etched into the decor

Our words like treasure

That’s what we'll keep.

When my lips are sealed
and I don't know what to say

When I don't know what to do but cry,
even though I want to smile

My words softly slide to avoid the worst

My words like sighs

That's what I'll keep.

When we'd like to keep
every memory, every name

To remember everything, every feeling

Words are our struggles,

Words are ...

emotion

Our words like songs

That's what we'll keep.

(Applause)

Thank you.

Thank you.

That's it,

that's all I want to keep,

this little taste of being onstage,

this need to convey with my voice,

sharing words that inspire.

It's kind of what we've done
together this afternoon.

That's what matters to me.

And I'm sure that you, too,
know the answer

to your "What's the point?" -

that one idea stronger than any other,

that will always be there to guide us
when we lose our way.

Mine, the work of 20 years,

my dream since I was a little girl,

I don't want to forget it anymore

or all of these victories
that belong only to me,

and to my path full of twists and turns.

As long as they remain,
I will be able to go on,

despite the doubts and obstacles,

the rough sea.

Perseverance and passion are my allies.

So let's raise our half-full glasses

and rejoice that so much room remains
to keep on filling them.

To us!

(Applause)