There are some stories from my years of traveling and performing that I still laugh about.

And then there are stories that taught me something.

This one is a little bit of both.

I was on tour in Italy, and at the time I was in Pavia. We had just finished a show, and the next day we were heading to Budapest for a huge festival.

Now, when you’re traveling with musicians and you’re on tour, you get into a rhythm.

I would usually leave my bags outside, and my musicians would pick up my suitcase and put it in the car.

I didn’t think twice about it.

Why would I?

That was just how we did things.

So we leave Italy, and we’re on our way to Budapest.

It was summertime. It was hot. We had already been traveling all day, and by the time we finally arrived in Budapest, it was late because of all the traffic.

And let me tell you something…

When I finally got into Budapest, I was amazed.

I knew Budapest was a major city, but seeing it for myself was something completely different.

It was BIG.

And I loved the energy.

There was something about the city that immediately grabbed me.

So we meet the promoter, and he takes us to the venue.

We go inside, and we’re getting ready for soundcheck.

Everything seems normal.

Until the promoter comes to get me to take me to my dressing room.

I turn to my pianist and casually say,

“Can you get my suitcase?”

He goes to the car.

A few minutes later, he comes back.

And he says,

“Your suitcase must already be in the dressing room because it’s not in the car.”

So we go to the dressing room.

And guess what?

No suitcase.

We start looking.

We’re looking everywhere.

And finally my pianist asks me,

“Where did you leave it?”

And I said,

“I left it outside to be picked up.”

And that’s when it hit us.

Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever lost your luggage while traveling.

But let me tell you something…

I didn’t just feel like I had lost a suitcase.

I felt NAKED.

And I mean that emotionally.

Because inside that suitcase was everything.

My clothes.

My shoes.

My toiletries.

My toothbrush.

My toothpaste.

Everything I needed to transform from a woman who had been traveling all day into the artist who was supposed to walk onto a stage and perform that night.

And suddenly…

I had NOTHING.

I went into a little bit of a panic.

I’m talking about that moment where your mind starts racing.

“What am I going to wear?”

“How am I going to get ready?”

“I don’t have anything!”

And meanwhile…

The show is still happening.

The audience doesn’t know.

The band doesn’t know what is going on inside my head.

The promoter doesn’t know that I’m standing there thinking, “How in the world am I going to pull this off?”

But the promoter was wonderful.

He looked at me and said,

“Don’t worry. I’ll call my wife.”

His wife came to pick me up, and she took me around Budapest so I could find something to wear.

We went from place to place.

I finally found something.

But I didn’t just need an outfit.

I needed SHOES.

I needed toiletries.

I needed everything.

So I’m buying toothbrushes, toothpaste, clothes, shoes…

All the things you don’t think about until they’re suddenly gone.

And remember…

I’d already traveled all day.

It was hot.

I was tired.

I was running around a city I had just arrived in trying to rebuild my entire suitcase before a performance.

And there was no time to rest.

Because when we got back, it was time to get dressed.

It was time to perform.

They see the stage.

They see the lights.

They see the smile.

They hear the music.

They see you walk out like everything is perfect.

But they don’t see what happened thirty minutes before.

They don’t see the exhaustion.

They don’t see the panic.

They don’t see the things that went wrong.

They don’t see the moments when you have to pull yourself together and say,

“Okay.

Let’s do this.”

And that’s exactly what I did.

I got dressed.

I walked into that venue.

And then I saw the crowd.

There must have been two or three thousand people there.

The band started playing.

And I remember thinking,

“Okay, Habaka.

It’s time.”

But then something happened that I will never forget.

Right before I walked onto that stage, the promoter handed me a torch.

And I walked onto that stage holding that torch in my hand.

And when I stepped out…

The crowd went CRAZY.

People were holding up their lights.

The entire place was glowing.

And suddenly…

That lost suitcase didn’t matter anymore.

The exhaustion didn’t matter.

The panic didn’t matter.

The running around Budapest didn’t matter.

Because I was standing on that stage.

And I was doing what I came there to do.

I was performing.

And it became one of the most beautiful moments of my career.

And isn’t that life sometimes?

You can have everything planned.

You can do everything you’re supposed to do.

And then something happens.

Something gets lost.

Something goes wrong.

Something strips you down.

And for a moment, you wonder,

“How am I going to do this?”

But sometimes you don’t need everything you thought you needed.

Sometimes you just need to find a way forward.

Sometimes you have to walk onto the stage with what you have.

And sometimes…

The very thing that felt like a disaster becomes part of the story you tell for the rest of your life.

Because nobody in that audience knew what had happened to me that day.

They didn’t know I had arrived without my suitcase.

They didn’t know I had been running around Budapest trying to find clothes.

They didn’t know I had no toothbrush or toothpaste.

They didn’t know I was exhausted.

They didn’t know I had been panicking.

And that’s the part of the journey people don’t always get to see.

They see the performance.

But they don’t always see what it took to get you there.

So if something in your life feels like you’ve lost your suitcase…

Maybe you’ve lost your confidence.

Maybe you’ve lost your direction.

Maybe something didn’t go according to plan.

Maybe you’re standing somewhere wondering how you’re going to pull yourself together.

I want you to remember Budapest.

Because sometimes you have to walk onto the stage without everything you thought you needed.

And somehow…

You still become the brightest light in the room.

That’s what happened to me in Budapest.

I lost my suitcase.

But I found something else.

I found out that I could still show up.

And sometimes, honey…

That’s where the magic begins.