Once upon a time I was a kid, and through a strange set of circumstances, I acquired a guitar. It cost me 8 months of flyer delivery and it saved my teenage life. In service of that, I elected to learn absolutely everything I possibly could about the instrument and I got really good at it. Still am.
This became the template. I dove in deep with various girls what would receive my attention, booze, pills, vintage automobiles, rock & roll bands, fitness, and food. Clearly not all of these things are bad things, but they’re not all good things either.
I’m beginning to find some balance between escapism and reality and it’s mostly because I am both wrapped up in a busy life, and emotionally supported. This isn’t the summer I wanted, but it seems to be the summer I needed. Through varying circumstances, I am not playing anywhere near as many shows as I’d hope to – but it seems fortunate that I am available to learn the ropes of a new job, and to navigate some changes at home, as well as contend with an injured drummer. I’ve also found the desired time to tend to my 1962 Ford Fairlane and get it up to snuff in a way it hasn’t been in a long time.
That Ford is also where I tend to escape to.
We all have our ways of coping with things and I know I am a project-based kind of person, so I’ve got no guilt around the balancing of my car and my obligations but I can almost smell my desire to just crawl under that car and stay there for days and just hide. The first indicator of that is my desire to work on it is greater than my desire to drive it, if only slightly. Don’t get me wrong, I want to drive the shit out of it (and I do!) but there is an immense sense of satisfaction that comes with taking something apart and putting it back together and making it work better by doing so.
As a father, I hope my kid gets bitten by this bug, too – if only because it’s been so helpful for me, but I have to understand and acknowledge that just because it worked well for me does not mean it will work well for everyone.
In other words, I want to have common interests with my child, but I fully understand that the work that needs to be done to maintain that is mine, not theirs.
So if this hobby stays mine, then it stays mine… but it still serves me, and helps me set myself straight so that I can serve others.
The Conscious Pilgrim 