A rough week.
It's been a rough year, really.
Last week, on the way back home from rehearsal with the circle, I talked with V. a bit about my notion about the "blind spot" bit. It was a pretty wide-ranging conversation, and as he usually does, he had some useful things to say. I'm not sure he'd be comfortable with being seen as a teacher of more than guitar and music, but he teaches much more than just those, all the same.
On my way to work, today, I had a sudden moment of clarity that I wasn't quite expecting, though I get the feeling that it's been coming for a long time. I am loathe to use the language I am about to use, only because I don't want to use someone else's words, but I don't have much else to work with, right now.
Deprived of my attachments, I do not exist. Brad is not.
A lot passed by in a heartbeat, so it's hard to really get the idea across simply. But, the best way I can put it right now is: if someone were to deprive me of the things I am attached to (my craft as a musician and my love), then I wouldn't be able to stand on my own. I have been heartbroken for months now, but it's like a sloth and its tree: take the tree away, and the sloth has nothing to hold on to. It is the same with my craft as a musician, and as a person.
Most anyone who knows the particulars of my past six months will agree that I have had a pretty rough time of it, and that having some anger about the situation is understandable. But letting go of that anger and emotion has been almost impossible, in part because it's all I've got. I'm not that emotion, but I'm not my craft, either. I'm not either of those things. What am I?
Last week, on the way back home from rehearsal with the circle, I talked with V. a bit about my notion about the "blind spot" bit. It was a pretty wide-ranging conversation, and as he usually does, he had some useful things to say. I'm not sure he'd be comfortable with being seen as a teacher of more than guitar and music, but he teaches much more than just those, all the same.
On my way to work, today, I had a sudden moment of clarity that I wasn't quite expecting, though I get the feeling that it's been coming for a long time. I am loathe to use the language I am about to use, only because I don't want to use someone else's words, but I don't have much else to work with, right now.
Deprived of my attachments, I do not exist. Brad is not.
A lot passed by in a heartbeat, so it's hard to really get the idea across simply. But, the best way I can put it right now is: if someone were to deprive me of the things I am attached to (my craft as a musician and my love), then I wouldn't be able to stand on my own. I have been heartbroken for months now, but it's like a sloth and its tree: take the tree away, and the sloth has nothing to hold on to. It is the same with my craft as a musician, and as a person.
Most anyone who knows the particulars of my past six months will agree that I have had a pretty rough time of it, and that having some anger about the situation is understandable. But letting go of that anger and emotion has been almost impossible, in part because it's all I've got. I'm not that emotion, but I'm not my craft, either. I'm not either of those things. What am I?