I was never that kid.
Earlier in the week, when we arrived at our hotel in Anaheim, CA, the family and I were just chillin' by the pool. I remember stepping away to grab a drink and snacks at the hotel café when I overheard some guitar playing. I followed the sound and came across another family just hanging out in their black SUV waiting to check-in. At the rear, I saw this young boy of some kind of South American decent sitting in the trunk with the gate open plucking away on his classical guitar. He had to of been in his late teens or so. I didn’t hear much of what he was playing or get a sense of his skill level. All I remember was that I could tell he didn’t quite fit in with his friends/siblings he was traveling with. You could see that he was a bit of a lone wolf who instead preferred the company of his guitar. He was likely obsessed with it. He likely brought this instrument wherever he went and would play it whenever he had free time. He likely wasn’t preparing for some big concert or performance. This was just his “passion”. He probably didn’t even call it that or use the term as loosely as we do today. His guitar and his craft was simply a part of who he was.
That was never me. I was never that kid. I was the kid who was friends with everyone, was a decent student, good athlete, sang in choirs and played a bit of guitar as well. Jack of all trades, master of none. Now, I can’t turn back time, but seeing this kid’s unconscious commitment and relationship with his guitar was absolutely motivating. I can still look at this project as an opportunity to focus the way I could have when I was young, and develop my own kind of relationship with this guitar and my craft. It’s not just my passion, it’s a part of who I am. It’s up to me to decide to what extent.
I was able to get in 3 practice sessions this week while on vacation. Thank goodness I brought my guitar on vacation. The holiday itself was a major hurdle, but on top of all of that, I’ve had a fever and have been sick and run-down. I found a way to muster up just enough energy (and take enough Advil) to practice while feeling like this. There will always be hurdles to climb. But, if I’m playing enough, and over-practicing enough, these kinds of hurdles won’t phase me.
It will be unconsciously part of who I am.