This is yesterday's neurosis, healed today (and re-injured tomorrow, no doubt.) Had intended to edit and post, but never quite got to it....
Break time. Great idea, but only if you do it.
Today is officially halfway to a year, and unless I haven't told you yet, we're really going for 365 days of practice here, 100 days at a time. Not too long into my first hundred days, I'd decided that this is really a full year endeavor, with the hopes that maybe someday Meg Ryan will play me in a blockbuster film called Confessions of a Mediocre Musician. Guess what: Today, we're over the hump. Only 182 left... and we're still here. Someone forward the link to Meg Ryan, please. Or if not her, Kevin Bacon... I hear he knows everyone.
182 days of practice, but don't you think practice alone would make a boring story? We need drama! Tears! Painful truths! Car chases! Overturned orange carts! Occasional racy nudity! (Sorry. Not here.)
But seriously... how much do you really want to know?
Do you want to know that sometimes (like, oh the last month or so) I've gotten a little tired of the "career" part of "music career"? That all this talk of break time, and family focus, and so on, is another way of saying that it might be nice to let go for a while and just enjoy the journey....
...That I have not practiced every day, but have done so most days, and that should be considered a resounding success!?
...That sometimes morning tea and the news is way more appealing than basement practice room?
...That I now suspect that I'm a writer who plays music, not a musician who writes?
...That the practice thing is indeed working... but not quite as well as I'd expected by this point? How about you?
...That it feels absolutely stellar to realize that "life/family first" is the reason you'll never be as good as X, Y, or Z... but that doesn't entirely make the ambition go away?
...That I find it scary (no, terrifying) that this blog is tied to our Lindsays web site and that I live in fear that some potential bride may read the blog and say, "No siree, this band will NOT play 'Pachelbel's Canon' at my wedding! Crazy lady! I bet she wears a black sequined beret to do groceries!" (I do.)
...That sometimes you have to go halfway up a driveway to really check out a house and decide that it's not one that you're going to call home?
...That I write about this all not because I want to tell the world my innermost thoughts but because I suspect that somewhere inside, no matter what our daily obsession, we're all more or less the same?
Thanks for being here so far, and do stick around for the rest of the story. Misery loves company, and hey, even Jesus needed 12 drinking buddies. Personally, I'm hoping for a more uplifting ending, but these things can't be decided upon ahead of time.
Onward and inward!