May 10 Day 10

Well… I suppose I could easily get away with saying “Nothing happened today, folks!” and just go on about my business of – well… at this time – sleeping. For the first time in a while, I was able to sit down and really practice. I don’t mean just play through something. I mean, actually able to really concentrate and think through areas that have been slow to come together. Sure, there were other things that probably should have had my attention, but I was just finally able to set them aside and say “All right. It will be fine.”

When I took Mom out, I noticed that the left lock on her wheelchair was really loose. That’s bad enough just in terms of keeping her in place. It was really bad (and dangerous) when I get her up on the portable ramp because the wheel usually sits right at the edge of the ramp. If it slips off the edge before I catch her, she’ll topple right off, wheelchair and all. (Hence why I always remind her to hold her wheels right after I set her down.) I took it to the store where we got it to get the locks tightened. Whenever I get to version 2.0 of the ramp, I’m going to add at least four inches to the length of the platform just so I can have a little more peace of mind.

Finances have been concerning lately. I mean… Given the road I’m on, they’ll always be a concern until I figure out a way to both have the cake and eat it. I know. I chose it. I could certainly make things easier on myself. Going that route would also place finances and status ahead of what I’m in this for. I’ve already learned years ago, that it takes only minutes to lose every material possession you ever owned. Status is even more fickle. Everything in me says I’m where I need to be, with whom I need to be with, and doing what I need to do. That’s a sense of certainty and purpose I haven’t felt in a long time.

Now only if that certainty came with a booklet on “This is how you fill that one gap…”

Andre does not concern himself with the matters of you mere plebeians.

Admittedly, I left off with a “downer” paragraph last night. It happens. I’m not going to pretend everything is always mint chocolate chip ice cream and I never have regrets, insecurities, or hang-ups. When you’ve spent a lifetime acquiring and building a skillset amid a society that constantly diminishes and devalues it while knowing only an iota of what it takes to make everything happen, it tends to bleed your enthusiasm quite a bit.

Tonight, as I look at my alarm set to go off at 7:30 AM, I’m thinking about the very human aspects of what I do. There are some things that you can’t just slap a price on. It may just be a song, but behind those four minutes might be healing or comfort or confirmation that reaches someone in a way no amount of words can. That transcription may be borderline-illegible chicken-scratch on a page, but to someone else it may be concrete and physical documentation of an expression poured right out of his soul. In either case, music is serious business that goes far behind organizing vibrations of air molecules for the mere entertainment of others.

That’s right. This chicken-scratch actually means something.

On another note: Go hug your moms, people. Call them. Tell them you love them. Tell them you appreciate everything they did for you. Thank God for them, whether they birthed you or they reached out and snatched you. Go hug people who would like to hug their moms but can’t. Or people who would like to be moms. I’ve found that I get to share my mom with everyone. That means that not only will she love you, but she will totally nag and meddle in your affairs as well. Wouldn’t trade her for anything.

Spread some love.



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