a plan

Sometimes it takes a minute to unhitch the load of things I take with me everywhere I go. The stress of my family, the stress of my job, the pressure I put on myself to write, record, and perform music, my body dysmorphia… but there are times and places when I am able to check all that junk at the door and just be present and do what I came to do.

Generally, I have a pretty clear mind as I head into most situations. I’ve gotten pretty good at worrying about work when I’m at work, and worrying about working out when I’m working out, and worrying about music when it’s time for that… but those pressures are always there, even when I’m not acknowledging them.

But I’m learning how to check that stuff at the door on occasion and it’s really enriched my life in a big way.

What I’m realizing now is that I need a place for everything (and everything in it’s place) and that primarily pertains to my calendar. 6 weekly training days are designated, 2 evenings of recording new music, travel days for work, travel days for my main band, time with my family… it’s all in there.

Sure, plans change from time to time… but it’s a lot easier to change a plan if you have a plan to change, as opposed to not having a plan and having everything fall apart on you.

All that to say… I’m living an amazing life full of love and creativity. I spend time with amazing people. I accomplish amazing things. I travel to beautiful places and entertain wonderful audiences… and everyone that needs a piece of me seems to get the appropriate amount. I’m sure some people would like a little more… but I’m certain that if they had more of me, they’d send it back.

I’ve read up on stoicism a bunch over the past few years, and I’ve in so doing, I’ve managed to put into practice the notion of not worrying about things I cannot control. For me, this is paramount to a balanced life, because there are so very many things I cannot control… including, but not limited to:
– other people’s expectations and/or opinions
– other people’s artistic output.

The Roosevelt-attributed quote ‘comparison is the thief of joy‘ rings and reverberates off the inner walls of my skull a lot lately, and it’s such an important thing for an artist to remember.

I’m truly grateful for the opportunities afforded me and I hope there are more coming, and that eventually I can provide people with opportunities as well.

milestones

I don’t know if this is all part of the human experience or if it’s some sort of songwriter / poet struggle but lately I’m pretty taken with the notion that the story we’re all telling never really ends.

That can be as depressing as you want it to be… but by my calculation, life is just as short as it is long. We’re all likely to be working day-in and day-out on something, and if we’re truly lucky then it’ll be something that matters to us on a spiritual level – but at no point can we expect anyone else to really care about it the way we care about it.

I write songs. I write songs and compose music with intensity and hunger, as if I’m going to write the most important song ever. And the truth of the matter is that I’ve written the most important song ever many times. Every song I’ve ever written is important and I’m going to be writing songs until I die.

I belabor every step of the process… from writing and composing to performing… from performing to recording… the mixing and mastering and duplication of the recording… back to performing and reinterpreting the recorded works in hopes that people will take a copy home with them… and back to writing and composing…

I’m fortunate, that in this day and age… right here in 2025, there are people who care about what I am doing artistically, but I would be remiss to assume they care more than I do. I’ve received many accolades and words of encouragement and as much as I appreciate the encouragement and am flattered by the kind words, these words do something different than you might think. Sure, my ego likes the boost – but really this encouragement sends me deeper and deeper into poetry and storytelling, because it affirms that I’m on the right path.

And this path is fraught with suffering.

This is what I’ve learned how to do, and if you’ve read this and understood it, then this is probably what you’ve learned how to do as well… suffer.

I’ve found it in my fitness journey as well. My progress on the running trail, or the mountain biking trail, or in the weight room at the gym… progress comes from a level of suffering that is just beyond where you’ve already been. I love the feeling of going to the limits of what my body can and ultimately seeing god when I get there, and knowing that the next time I see god it will be just beyond where I saw god last. Writing and composing is the same… when the work is finished, and I can step back and wonder how this piece of art came through me, because it is bigger than me.

And it is a cycle that never ends.
And I truly love it.

output

I’ve mentioned this before, and I’m bound to mention it again… but in my spare time, or rather, our spare time, we three Confusionaires are working on another record.

We live in exciting times, and in exciting times, time passes very quickly. We are already behind schedule on what my ideal timeline is… we started later than I’d wanted to, and now we’re recording songs in our ‘spare’ (ha!) time, gathering once or twice a week in our rehearsal studio to attain live-off-the-floor versions of songs we’ve been working on and playing live. This ‘spare’ time pops up once or twice a week between out of town shows, and at the end of long work days.

That said… we work pretty quickly. We can typically get a song done (recorded to completion and edited) in a couple evenings, so one song per week assuming we can get together twice that week. Birthdays, anniversaries, condo board meetings pop up every so often and gum up the works… but this is our process.

It’s difficult for me not to put a deadline on these things… I’ve issued deadlines that have been sorely missed but if I’m being realistic with myself it’s because I want it to be done.
Done.
And fantastic.
Done and fantastic takes time.

So I wrestle… belabouring lyrical choices and harmony vocal parts right up until the time they’re recorded, but also writing new songs that won’t even make it onto this album (but I have to get these things out and down on the page because they’re COMING OUT OF ME whether I like it or not, and this is a particularly fruitful season.

Yes, there are seasons to these things and I feel like it’s all hitting me at once right now, in the most amazing and glorious way. It’s truly exhausting and it’s actually caused me to almost completely forget to post to this blog – something I haven’t forgotten to do in this blog’s entire 3 years. But when it dies down, I assure you it’ll be very frustrating, and I’ll probably take to this blog to register my feelings about it throughout the world wide web. I assume some bolt of lightning will hit me and tell me what to do in that off-season but that’s ultimately a problem for future-Davey.

But for now… I make hay while the sun shines.
And despite the so-so weather forecast the Canadian prairies are getting these days… THIS sun is shining quite a bit.

environment

I think about the environment a lot this time of year. Not just THE environment, but MY environment, and not just THIS time of year, but ALL times of year… I just think about it more affectionately this time of year because it’s not actively trying to kill me at this time.

I’ve said it in this blog before, and although I cannot credit myself with saying it first, I will repeat it: The biggest error the human race ever made was to view itself separate from nature. A grievance I can take up with the church quite easily, but not something I can fix, especially by complaining about it.

I get into Edmonton’s river valley almost every day in the warm months. There’s a path down into it less than a mile from my house, and between dog walks, recreational running, and mountain biking, I can say I am down there between 4 and 7 days per week… and even when I travel for work, most major Canadian cities have a river or two flowing through them, and I go find those, too.

In Edmonton, you don’t have to go far into the valley to feel like you’ve left the city, and if you’re down there pushing your own body’s boundaries, it’s not hard to find god – and by that I mean the infinite wisdom of the universe more so than the variety of idols adorning every temple under the sun.

I’ve dabbled with meditation; of course, but for my money, getting into nature and losing yourself is the best way. I like to get my heart rate into it’s beloved Zone 2 and see what god has for me – often by way of a message in a podcast or a new song, because my environment includes a level of privileged technology, though I wish I weren’t so married to my headphones. They have a tendency to distract me just as much as they inspire me and I’d like to be more of an antennae for creativity than a consumer of it. I suppose it can be both… and now that I think of it, it is both.

I don’t ride my bike with headphones. That’s as dangerous as it is uncomfortable. And I’ve been blessed with many songs, visions, and ideas on those rides.

I receive so much from my environment, and from the people and creatures that share it with me. It’s not enough to know that we are made up of the same cosmic stuff, but once we remove the man-made concepts of space and time, we are literally THE SAME stuff, all of history existing at one time, all creatures with no space between them.

If we looked at eachother with that in mind, I can’t help but think that none of us would find reason to kill another, be it for resources or religious differences.

This line of thinking reminds me why I am vegan.
Not that I need a reminder.

I’m not sure what this blog entry is about.
Perhaps it’s a reminder to myself what my role is here.
Maybe this entry has inspired something in its readers.

I hope I never find out.

whatever you want

I have it pretty good.

I don’t take that for granted. I understand that outwardly, I’ve got a really great life. Middle management support role for a big company that works with things I’ve very interested in, a great house, a great family, a killer rock & roll band that people care about… I drive a cool car… I’m in good shape… I’m 43 years old and on zero medications…

I take none of this for granted because I’ve worked very hard to have all of it.

What if it was all gone tomorrow?

I’m no stranger to the notion; or rather, the assumption that “we’re all just a couple paychecks away from homeless” and the privilege-check we’re all constantly called to do.

But I’m really not a couple paychecks away from homeless.

I mean sure, misfortune could befall me and my family. My life could fall apart in biblical fashion the likes of which have only been alluded to in the Book of Job… but in the end I’ve concocted a combination of skill and fortitude that have set me on a track of progress. I have come from nothing and built what I have, and I can start from nothing and build what I have again.

What nobody wants to tell you anymore is that you can do whatever you want.

Nobody will stop you. They might not help you, but it’s pretty unlikely that they’ll get in your way. And this… is how I know I’m not done. I haven’t written my book yet, and there’s always one more rock & roll record in me to make… the only thing I don’t have is a short-cut.

I read somewhere; multiple places, really, that you need to be happy where you are in order to move forward. That used to sound contradictory to me because if I was happy where I was, I would stay in that place… but no, that’s not true. I actually am very happy where I am because where I am is in a constant state of growth and evolution.

I love being in a state of change for the better… and if I can stay in this growth mindset then I will never be in the same spot again, and I am happy with that.

Whatever you want.
You can do whatever you want.

momentary

After a few years of writing this blog, sometimes it feels like I’m just repeating myself. What I’ve found; though, repetition is the stuff this life is built out of.

I talk about living in the moment because it matters, despite the fact that it feels like it distracts from the dream.
Meditation is important, despite the fact that I’ve gotten out of the habit of sitting in silence and meditating, and find pushing my body to it’s physical limits to be quite meditative. It draws me back to the moment, the painful, shitty moment I’m in after 2 hours of running on pavement with sweat in my eyes, no matter where my mind takes me.

But from one moment to another is a completely different experience. This is why it’s so important. If one moment I’m 13km deep into a hot sunday run and the next I’m giving you a giant sweaty hug, you’ll understand the momentary difference.

As much as I love a plan, and as much as I love to dream – and those things do have an important place – you’ll note that it’s a rare occurrence that someone ever has to remind you to daydream. What I do need are reminders to live in the here & now, which means if I’m unloading the dishwasher, I am present in doing so… and if I am walking on-stage with a guitar in front of hundreds of people, I am present in doing so.

As much as it’s about the individual living in the moment, there’s an element of outward respect as well. Those few hundred people watching me on-stage deserve for me to be present. I’ve seen enough musicians take the stage fucked up, or distracted, or just not ‘feeling it’ that night and it’s frustrating to that entire audience of people that are trying to live in that very exciting moment with that performer.

But it’s not just those big moments that matter. The little ones matter just as much, especially when people are depending on you on the smallest scale. Those everyday things we do like cooking, cleaning, driving… the tasks that make it so easy to zone out are so much more important than some musician giving a sub-par performance.

So… be present.
And don’t phone-it-in on stage.


balance

I am always searching for balance.

I have goals to look a certain way, perform to a certain level, run certain distances, eat a certain way, write songs to a certain standard… in amongst working and sleeping and being an attentive adult / father / partner / employee, it doesn’t take much to knock it all off kilter.

So, I have to stop and take stock of where I’m at.

It comes down to what kind of life I want to live.

If I could have everything I wanted, I’d be a Ironman Triathlete who played 250 shows per year to 10,000+ audiences, and have a personal chef, and would train 6 days a week… but it would be a solitary life, surrounded by people and close to noone.

If I trained for an Ironman, I’d have to put my rock & roll band on ice for a while. Any vacation time I had would be spent training. I’d hardly have time for my family because all I’d be doing was training, eating and sleeping.

If I were to chase bigger crowds with my music, I’d likely have to scale back my training, and spend more time at the right parties, socializing, and I’d compromise my health and the quality of my art.

If I lean into my daytime career, I’d likely crater my band, and possibly alienate my family doing so. I wouldn’t train much at all and I’d eat in restaurants and sleep in hotels far too much.

So I try to live my life in the middle… and my life in the middle is pretty great.

I’m 43 years old. I am on 0 medications, and have 0 health complications to be concerned with. I am available to people who need me, including my employer, I have great artistic output with top tier musicians and we do things the way we want them to be done.

All this to say, I am grateful for what I have, and I am happy where I am – because where i am is in a state of progress. I am moving forward in my life and in my art, not backward. I train hard, and I eat like an athlete… but there’s still room in my life for a vegan donuts. I play rock & roll and write songs constantly… but I’m still home for dinner and a dog walk. I work hard, but I’m still available to my family and my friends.

I’m serious.
But I don’t take myself too seriously.

I’ve been trying to find balance for so long that I almost didn’t recognize it when I found it.