Sara Bareilles: 'Life's Holiest Lesson'

Wherever you are in the world and in your grief, I'm glad you're here. Welcome to a very special episode of All There Is. I'm going to be talking today with singer, songwriter, and actress Sarah Bareilles. She's sold millions of albums. She's earned two Grammys, been nominated for multiple Emmys and Tony Awards. What I didn't know is that Sarah has listened to this podcast a lot and was so moved by the conversation that Stephen Colbert and I had during the first season that she's written a song about it called Home, and it's on her new album that's going to be coming out later this year. You're going to hear that song on the podcast today. It hasn't been released yet, but Sarah wanted all of us in this community to hear it first. I sat down with her several months ago, and we talked about some recent losses in her life and listened to the song. I'd not heard it in advance, and I was incredibly moved by it, and I have to say I'm a little embarrassed by how emotional I got. It was difficult for me to include that in the song because I didn't know what it was about. It was difficult for me to include that in this episode, but it is what it is. Here's my conversation with Sarah Bareilles. Thank you so much for doing this. I'm really honored to be here. You've actually listened to this podcast. Many, many times. Yes, yes. What brought you to it? I guess my own grief. I feel like one of the things that I love about it so much is like, I think it's this very universal experience, but there's not as much sort of interrogation. But there's not as much sort of interrogation, I think, in the common spaces. So I felt really courageous to name it and to keep naming it and to find different ways to turn it over. I just had like a lot of grief in the last few years, handful of years in my life. And I found it very powerful, very moving. It's inspired songs. You actually wrote a song based on a particular episode with Stephen Colbert. Yes. I was walking around. I live in Brooklyn. I was walking around, listening to the podcast. And I was so moved by the story Stephen shared about losing his father and his brother. Stephen's incredible. And that episode is so special. It's a great episode. It's really, really special. Yeah, Stephen's father and his two brothers, Peter and Paul, were killed in an Eastern Airlines plane crash when Stephen was 10 years old. Your connection in that conversation was just, I found it to be really, just really inspiring. And I came home and started writing a song about it. And then I was on a television show at the time called Girls5eva. And our creator, showrunner is Meredith Scardino, who was the head writer at Stephen's show. And so I sent it to Meredith. And I was like, is this weird? I wrote a song kind of about Stephen Colbert's experience as a child. And is it weird to send it to him? I have no idea. And she did. And she sent it to him. And we had this really beautiful exchange. And now I get to share that with you. And it's your story woven in there as well, and just this idea that you share your stories. If we just continue to be brave enough to share the stories that we've lived through, the connection is a part of the medicine. I do think it's the only thing that really helps. 100%. At least for me, it's the only thing that's really helped. You realize how un-unique you are, and how much everyone is carrying, and how I think really people want permission to share how much pain they're carrying. At any given moment, to know that it's OK to be in so much pain, because I think we all are in different ways. I did an event with Frances Weller at Commonweal. And it was in front of like 200 people. And it was Frances and I talking to each other. And it was a very moving talk. And I found it hard to get through, actually. And afterward, a woman in the audience came up to me. And she said-- she like hugged me. And she looked in my eyes. And she said, you so want people to see you. Mm. And it wasn't-- it wasn't like, you're desperate for attention. It was, you are this little kid. You want people to see you. And she was right. My mom used to quote this line. I can't remember. Some character says, everybody wants to be seen, and heard, and felt. Yeah. And I think in grief, that is particularly true. Even if one can't admit that or vocalize that, as I could not for my entire life. Yeah. I think we're afraid because we're afraid whatever we're going to show is either-- too painful, too ugly, too messy, that it will be unwanted in some way. So the fear of being rejected for what is true because it's painful keeps, I think, a lot of people just like a little bit away from that precipice of actually sharing what's just true. I'm just a big believer in the truth that it-- Well, also even admitting it to oneself or kind of speaking it out loud in one's head to oneself. Yeah. Feels terrifying. I mean, not that it's all about me, but let me talk about me again. I never talked about this stuff, and now I just can't shut up. But I think that's incredible. I wrote an entire record about it. Like, I couldn't-- once I feel like-- Your new record is centered around grief. Yeah. And not on purpose, but I actually think this is the first new music that I've written since the pandemic. And I think that, especially in 2020-- so I lost a very dear friend, Chad Joseph. He was my roommate out of college, my best friend in college, my roommate, my first manager, my tour manager for many, many years, and just a beloved, like, co-pilot. And he was diagnosed with stage four cancer at the end of 2019, lung cancer. And then he was gone by the end of September 2020. That was a huge part of what I felt like I was grieving in 2020. But also, I don't know if you know about the pandemic. But that also occurred in 2020. And-- Which I don't think we, as a society, have come to terms with the loss and the fracturing of all the bonds between people that form society. I agree. I think a huge part of what is moving through us culturally is grief that is just unnamed and unprocessed and kind of misunderstood. Unrecognized grief is, to me, at the core of so much of the fracturing of society. I feel like since COVID, everybody saw how thin the bonds of human connection really are and how easily they can be broken. And it's a terrifying thing to see. Right. Yeah. Life becoming unrecognizable and how dysregulating and disorienting that is. And how vulnerable we all are. Did that stop you from writing and from-- Yeah. I think so. When I look back on that time, I remember feeling very, oh, maybe envious of artists that were making things very quickly, were singing songs, were doing concerts online. There was just a big push to, how do we fill this void? Dua Lipa's album came out. I did a 60-minute speech on her. And-- And all her promotion was in her rented studio apartment. Totally. And I was so grateful to have her-- that was one of the records I listened to a lot that year. But I couldn't say anything. I was like, I don't have anything to say about this yet. It felt too big. I couldn't wrap my arms around-- nothing was metabolized yet, I think, for me, until just like a couple years ago. Had you had much experience with grief prior to starting to lose friends? I don't think so. You know, my grandmothers and my grandfather passed. And I definitely grieved them. But my 40-year-old best friend, it was jarring in this way of like this feeling of like a trap door of like, oh, you actually can't count on the fact that anything is going to be here. And I think there was something about that. Like, how could this possibly happen to you? Yeah. Yeah. I think it took me a long time to figure out what there was to say about any of this. And really, the song "Called Home" that was based on that conversation you had with Stephen was another kind of cornerstone. And then it started to take shape. I want to play part of the Stephen Colbert interview that you heard. And Stephen and I are talking about how I thought I would die at 50 because that's the age my dad died at. And Stephen had the exact same idea. He actually believed not only he would die at the same age his father had died, which was 53, but that with each of his kids, when they turned 10, which was the age Stephen was when his father died, that Stephen would die. Because you couldn't imagine a child who lived past 10 with a father who was still alive. Let's play that. One thing that I have found tremendously helpful is being able to talk about it and hear other people's experiences with it. Oh, I completely agree. But that's accepting it. Talking about it is another way of making your loss real, I would say. I realized when I had kids, I did not want to pass on to them my sadness. I want them to know about their grandparents and my brother. But I don't want it to be in their head. I want it to be infused with this kind of secret hidden sadness that they feel that's strange about? It'll only be strange if it's secret and hidden, I would say. Yeah. What's that thing about dad that he won't share with us? Then it's secret and strange. But if you're, you know, if you share it publicly, then it's a gift. Then you're explaining to them this part of the human experience and that it is possible to deal with in healthy ways and to come out on the other side. I don't think you're doing anything other than helping your child by sharing. I want to play some of the song that you wrote based on that. Is there anything we should do to set it up? I mean, it's pretty much plagiarism from that conversation. It's called Home. It's called Home. I was really moved. I think you say it in the interview is just about, it's about telling your story and telling your story warts and all is the thing that brings you back home. And I think of home as being like a place of connection, that your soul is at peace and at rest when it's in connection, either with self or with others or with source or God or whatever you think. But for me on this earth, our work is to find ways to be like bold enough to let people, let other people see us. And telling stories is, is such an important part of that. Let's play Home. I am one day older than my father was than he ever got to be. I was 10 years old. I grew up 'cause he died at 53. I stared across the great divide and my mother was left. The dinner table stretched oceans wide. Like the hollow in our chests. I never asked hard questions. I thought they caused more pain. I hadn't yet learned life's holiest lesson that what is broken cannot heal until it's known and loved by name. So tell me your story. Tell me mine. Don't need to worry. Everything's already alright. You'll be the universe, nothing behind. Anywhere you ever need to go, I can carry us home. Tell me mine. Don't need to worry. Tell me your story. Tell me your story. Don't need to worry. I was taught to bury with the dead the presence of my grief. I see it now but didn't I? But didn't end That silence is a theme It made strangers out of friends Robbed me of saving graces Offered in unlikely places I thought I could outrun it in the end When a shattered heart is desperate The only respite Is to let somebody in Tell me your story I'll tell you mine You don't need to worry Everything's already alright You'll be there You'll be there There's nothing to hide Anywhere you ever need to go I can carry us home I can carry us home I can carry us home I can carry us home When I speak his name My voice gives out Even after all these years But I want my son to know now So my son will see my tears My son will see my tears My son will see my tears I'm sorry Can I hug you, Anderson? I really thank you for that song Because you brought me a lot of healing, too Thank you Thank you so much for having those conversations I know I should have listened to it beforehand I feel really, really honored I told you it's plagiarism Jesus It's beautiful Thank you It's really beautiful Thank you It was really powerful to hear you To hear you be a part of this I don't know It really unlocked something for me To feel how much weight it can lift To just let someone hear and see your own pain And it's really helpful Even though it doesn't look helpful It looks miserable But it's really helpful Thank you To move through Otherwise we just get stuck So I, yeah I was just imagining someone If there was like a big glass wall in the studio And some walking by and looking And be like, Jesus, what is going on in there? Really happy Really happy interview You know what? Oh my God Of course, that's immediately what I think of Like, what will other people think? Yeah, right Because you're human Yeah We're going to take a quick break We'll be back with more of my conversation With Sara Bareilles in just a moment Before we get into the show Here's something worth your time Every day animals across the country Face abuse, neglect, and cruelty And every day The ASPCA shows up They rescue animals in crisis And provide life-saving medical care They help animals recover And they get better And give them the second chance they deserve But they can't do it alone Every rescue Every medical treatment Every safe place to heal Depends on people who choose to help If you'd like to be part of that work Visit ASPCA.org Slash need Become a monthly donor today And you'll help support these life-saving rescue efforts And provide the care, shelter, and love These animals urgently need And for a limited time The ASPCA will send you a free gift As a special thank you Again, that's ASPCA.org Slash need Every day Animals across the country Face abuse and neglect And every day The ASPCA shows up To rescue animals in crisis But they can't do it alone Visit ASPCA.org Slash need Become a donor today To provide the care and shelter These animals urgently need And for a limited time The ASPCA will send you a free gift As a special thank you Visit ASPCA.org Slash need Welcome back to my conversation With Sarah Bareilles It was so interesting I just started doing this Because I didn't know what else to do Going through the boxes My entire dead family left behind and that you can hear something that a guest said or that i said and create that it's incredible i mean i would have never imagined that i find that to be so affirming of what i think is actually at work in life is that we're actually so universally connected and so similar and so alike and so again like not special in our humanness that um i mean i love i love that that happens it is the the common denominator between everybody society tells us we should be in corners and and in different boxes and stuff and yet this is the the thing that you know you know you know you know that we all share yeah i feel like on some level i think we got tricked into believing that like you know if it's pleasure and pain that like if you're not in pleasure then something's wrong but like pain is half of it like pain is the other half of what we do here you were talking about francis waller i love what he said to you when you spoke to him on your podcast about like getting close like inviting that part of yourself in like the parts of you that are in just imagine how powerful it will feel if those parts feel held you know held and cared for instead of exiled yeah companionship yeah with grief or yeah he talks about you also have lost just recently in in september last year you lost a close friend gavin creel a lot of dead friends anderson um humor it's how you get through sometimes yes yeah yeah yeah gavin was 48 and um yeah like a soulmate on some level how'd you guys meet we met when we um we actually met singing at a benefit concert um for cindy lopper's true colors foundation so that was the like just one of the one of the great vocalists of all time like just an extraordinary gift and then to know by the way i'm wiping on my shirt oh thank of course you have tissues here um and then to know him his talent became the least interesting thing about him he was like a firework just an incredible hilarious loving generous beloved friend to literally thousands of people i spoke at his memorial at the saint james theater on broadway he's a beloved broadway actor and um seats like 1700 people and one of the things i said in the eulogy was that i like all 1700 people here was gavin's closest friend the truly what he left in his wake was just like um an incredible amount of devastation and because there was so much love and um yeah just another one of those like a rare form of cancer a rare form of cancer yeah peripheral nerve sheath sarcoma from the time he was diagnosed to his death it was just a few months yeah yeah he had a really terrible experience with chemotherapy he had a really bad reaction and i think it became um pretty evident to him early on it's just like i think my path is to learn how to die he had just finished pema children's book how you live is how you die and then he got his diagnosis and the whole year prior he had another friend who he had been taking her to her chemotherapy appointments up in boston he would drive up from new york and go with her you know every three weeks for like a year and it you know hadn't had a diagnosis or anything but ultimately he was like His death has like shaped my life. In what way? Well, I feel how important it is to cut the bullshit. Like how unimportant. So many things, especially as someone who, you know, I'm an artist, I'm pursuing a career in commercial music, like those kinds of things. Just how unimportant all that feels. That quality of connection and relationships are literally the only thing that matter. And so, like, what are you doing to nurture? Like, relationships that you could be proud of. And it's not a straight line. And of course, I still care about like, you know, superficial things. But it's a profound experience to walk towards the end of a life with someone. And I did it with Chad. And Gavin was really generous about his dying with us. He was so brave and just so open and talked about it all. And I mean, he would ask. He would ask things like, where do I go? Where am I going to go? And sometimes he would say it with childlike curiosity. And sometimes, you know, he was crying and terrified because no one can tell you the answer. It's not an answerable question. We don't know. I found this video of him singing a song of yours. It's not simple to say that most days I don't recognize me. That these shoes and this apron, that place and its patrons have taken more than I gave them. It's not easy to know that I'm not anything like I used to be. Although it's true, I was never attention's sweet center. I still remember that girl. She's imperfect, but she tries. She is good, but she lies. She is hard on herself. She is broken, but won't ask for help. She is messy, but she's kind. She is lonely. But most of the time, she's all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie. She is gone, but she used to be. It's not what I asked for. Sometimes life just slips in. Through that back door and a car is out of person. And it makes you believe it's all true. Now I've got you. You're not what I asked for. If I'm honest, I know. I would give it all back for that chance to start over. And rewrite an ending or two. For that girl that I knew. Who was reckless just enough. Who gets hurt, but who learns how to toughen up when she's bruised. And gets used by that man who can't love. And then she'll get stuck and be scared. By the life that's inside her. Growing stronger each day. Till it finally reminds her. To fight. To fight just a little. And bring back the fire in her eyes. That's been gone, but used to be mine. Used to be mine. Used to be mine. She is messy, but she's kind She is lonely most of the time She's all of this mixed up and baked in that wild, wild berry pie She is gone, but she used to be mine - That's incredible. - I started out crying, and then I was just smiling by the end. - I watched the eulogy you gave, and I just want to play a little bit of what you said. - If you were close to him, you knew that Gavin was not afraid of your darkness. Or your sadness, or your jealousy, or your pettiness, or your ugliness, or your fear. He would pick up pints of ice cream and put up Christmas lights and sit in the muck with you. This is when he was still eating sugar. He would welcome it in to get close and curious and try to understand it, and above everything else, remind you that you were not alone in any of it. Gavin deeply struggled with his own loneliness and fear. And it was not in spite of these parts of himself, but because of them, that he was able to show up wholeheartedly to remind us how worthy we are of love, not only in our joy, but in our sorrow too. We get to be both darkness and light, despair and hope. We just have to try and be true. - I think this was in the eulogy that you asked Gavin to haunt you. - Yes. - How did he respond to that? - I mean, I think he wanted to agree to it, I think we both knew, it's hard, you can't, you know, no promises. I don't feel haunted by him. Well, I do, what I think is beautiful is that I feel sort of haunted by him in beauty when I see something that I think is, especially in nature, if I'm struck by just like, you know, sometimes it can just take your breath away. Just the feeling. Just the feeling of the earth and how it changes and shifts. And Gavin was always someone who really appreciated that. So sometimes if I see something really beautiful, I feel him like in the light, the way the light hits a building or the light through the trees. But no, I was like, move a cup for me. Like, show me where you at, man. - You co-wrote a song with Andrew Gibson, the poet. And also Brandi Carlile for the film, "Come See Me in the Good Light." The song is salt, then sour, then sweet. - That's it, yeah. I was a fan. And I think this movie is a miracle. And Andrea always wanted to have a poem at the end of the film. Or they had thought, and Ryan White, the director, they had discussed having an original poem at the end of the film. And so Andrea had been like collecting little snatches of poetry and couplets. And eventually I just got sent a document that was a couple of pages of kind of unfinished poetry. And when I finished watching the first screening, I was so rocked by watching that film. And I sat with the pages of Andrea's work and just started kind of cobbling things together. I sent it to Brandi and I was like, do you have thoughts? And she and I texted back and forth. And we're kind of shaping things. And then it all happened very quickly. - I want to play some of Salt, then Sour, then Sweet, which you co-wrote with Andrea Gibson and Brandi Carlile. - Give me the light years. ♪ But I want the dark ones too ♪ ♪ Grief is the singer in my band ♪ ♪ She's a passenger van and a shortcut straight to the truth ♪ ♪ Learn from the night shades ♪ ♪ They grow in the darkest places ♪ ♪ Had we not been stung so many times ♪ ♪ Would we ever have arrived at this heaven on earth ♪ ♪ That I don't want to live ♪ ♪ Pick a lucky penny up ♪ ♪ And I'll marry you for your money, love ♪ ♪ So keep the Novocaine out of my wisdom teeth ♪ ♪ Want to feel it all, salt, then sour, then sweet ♪ ♪ Want to kiss you and write love's name on my crumbling walls ♪ ♪ Lay them at your feet with the rest of me ♪ ♪ Salt, then Sour, then Sweet ♪ ♪ Salt, then Sour, then Sweet ♪ ♪ Come to the porch, love ♪ ♪ Look up at the perfect sky ♪ - That's lovely. - Thanks. - Is there something you've learned in your grief that you would think would be helpful for others? - Hmm, there's a lot I've learned in my grief. - We have time. - Yeah. - I remember having a couple of experiences where I had a feeling that I was scared of my grief. I felt like it was gonna eat me alive, like that I would actually sort of like dissolve into the unimaginable quality of this pain. And I think the learning for me is that you don't dissolve. I mean, mind you, I take medication. I do meditation. I have therapy. Like, I have a lot of resources to help me. - You've talked about taking antidepressants and found it very helpful. - Oh, yes. I resisted it for such a long time. And I think for me, A, being the quality of life, and this is, and I'm not speaking as someone who feels like I'm not in touch with my grief at all. I think my fear was that there would be something suppressed, that I would be taken further away from myself or something would feel numbed out. But I actually think that the way, you know, the depression and anxiety work in my system, and for I think a lot of people, is that it actually becomes this sort of veil, this like lens you see your life through. So you're, it creates more distance. So I, once I started taking Lexapro, I was, I started feeling myself return to myself. That's what it felt like. - That's great. - Oh yeah, what a relief. I wish I would have done it 10 years ago, but all I can do is just share that it was, I'm like, I always tell people, you can try it. You can always come back to this. You know what this is. You can do this anytime. So see if there might be some. - But I think it's an important thing to say, which is you still were able to feel. - Oh my God, yes. I'm a mess a lot of the time, which I'm grateful for. I like my melancholy. I've grown quite fond of- - I like the word melancholy. It's not used enough, I think. - Oh, it's so delicious. - Perfect for you. - But it's a part of my, the feeling tone I carry with the world. Like I feel very close to people's ache and sadness. I find that really beautiful and moving and human. It's why I write, it's why I make music. So I wouldn't want to be far away from that feeling, but I don't want to be in the fetal position all the time or not remember what it feels like to smile. Like I don't want to be that person. That doesn't feel true to me either. I think that the learning from my grief and Gavin and Chad and my fertility journey and all of the stuff is that it's such a beautiful teacher. To draw it close is to draw yourself closer, I think. And the sharing of grief is essential. You actually won't move through it alone. You must find the courage to share it. And I think you'll be surprised how medicinal it is in a really good way, the sharing. - You found the sharing of it beneficial and you found people who can share it with you. - Yeah. Yeah. And not everybody can, not everybody can go there. And not everybody holds it that well. Andrea says this in the movie about the mailbox. There's this recurring gag in "Come See Me in the Good Light" where Andrea and Meg's mailbox keeps getting knocked off its posts because of the snow plows. And Andrea fashions this very haphazard, like a rickety post for the mailbox. And they say, "I would appreciate the trying, isn't the trying all there is?" And I just, I think that is, that's a beautiful takeaway. It's like, yeah, we're trying, we're trying. - We are, all of us, trying. I want to thank Sarah for that interview and for letting us hear her new song "Home." The song is going to be on her new album coming out later this year. Next Thursday, March 26th, I hope you join me at 9:15 p.m. for my streaming show, "All There Is Live." It's our streaming show about loss. You can join and chat with others who are watching on our grief community page. Just go to cnn.com/alltherese on Thursday night, March 26th at 9:15 p.m. If you missed the live stream, it will be posted the following day for a week on the site. All the older episodes of that show are available on demand for CNN subscribers. If there's something you've learned in your grief that you think would be helpful for others, feel free to leave us a voicemail at 404-827-1805. Coming up on "All There Is," my interview with Sarah Wildman. She's an editor and writer at the New York Times. Seriously. daughter Orly had a rare form of liver cancer and died in March 2023. She was 14 years old. I came across some of the pieces that Sarah has written in the Times about Orly and was so moved by them I reached out to her. I've been wanting to talk with her ever since and we just sat down together a couple weeks ago. The doctors would say well what do you want and I would say I want her to fall in love. I want her to graduate. I want her to make mistakes. What do you mean what do I want? What does that even mean? I want the years that were promised her. Outside of that what do you mean what do I want? I don't know how to want something more than that. I didn't realize I was asking for too much you know. I want her to get mad at me and not have to worry that we have to make up right away because I don't know what tomorrow is bringing. I don't want to worry that these are the only 10 good minutes and what if I take a walk and I miss them. I want her to go out with her friends and and come back too late and us argue about a curfew. I don't know. What do you want from a 14 year old? I just want her to get to do things. So what do you mean by what do I want? How do you want me to live right now? How am I supposed to do this? That's Sir Wildman on an upcoming episode of All There Is. Thanks for listening. Wherever you are in the world and in your grief you're not alone. Get ready for election night. CNN is available to stream live now with an all-access subscription. Get exclusive content and interactive Q&As with CNN's journalists. Subscribe now. Visit cnn.com slash all access.