Early morning rehearsal. I used to get up at this time to dig fence post holes in ground that is mostly rock. We’d ride four wheelers, shoot rifles, pistols and shotguns and do some back-breaking work. Digging a hole or a trench, in west or central Texas is some of the hardest work I’ve ever done. However, it’s rewarding. At the end of the day you see the work you have put in. You make something. Even if it’s a dang hole in the ground. You can take a picture of it when you are done. When you’re having a beer later, (I guarantee you will want a beer when you’re digging that hole, you may not even like beer or bars or talking to strangers) you can whip out your phone and nod at the guy next to you and say “look at this! Look, look at this hole I dug! Yes, in the ground! Yes it IS mostly rocks! And the guy sitting next to you might say, “look at this bathroom I re-did” or “look at this floor I stained.” and that’ll be that. The work was grueling but it was God’s country. Even the skinny cows looked angelic. The wind is wider there. It’s more like a breath than a blast. There are no building to squeeze between. I was often outworked by men twice my age. I can’t tell you how embarrassing it is to watch someone who is 10 years retired, (or should of been, some said he was in prison), dig 3 posts holes to your one, while singing, laughing and talking trash to you. Most days I was just trying not to keel over, sometimes from laughter but mostly from exhaustion.
Where’s the enlightenment in this?
What do you glean from all these words you have read so far? “Creativity comes from without, not within” I thought I wrote that but thanks to google I am just a thief. I had to get the job because I didn’t want to do music anymore. The love of my life (also a musician) had left and I thought if I had a steady job (songwriting/singing is seldom steady) I could support her and keep her. I was willing, for a moment, to give up my life, my purpose, the reason I was put here, to keep someone around. I had to let go. I have been very lucky. Good people have helped me. Nobody deserves anything. I wouldn’t be writing this if I hadn’t had some living saints bet on me. I don’t take one moment for granted. I don’t deserve anything. Anyways, the point I’m making is my creativity has come from without, not within. My happiness has come from without, not within. You, the people I call my family (if you’ve read this far, I know who you are) have come from without, not within. Thank you. Now I get to go rehearse my songs with the stay-at-home dads and the Berkeley grads.