Really, this is the post I think I was trying to write when I started the last one. I wanted to start off by basically saying, “Music is not my profession, but it’s also not a hobby.” And then, typically, I went off on a tangent and got all earnest and probably over-intellectualized and pedantic, among other annoying things.

And I really don’t want to go that way with this post again and start pitching spiritual-sounding woo about how what we do as passionate creatives is a “calling” and a “need” and all that kind of stuff. So I will just say, succinctly as I’m capable of, that whether I like to say it or not, I believe it is both a calling and a need, and truly part of me. If I’m not playing music and creating and expressing myself through it, I become depressed and feel incomplete. It keeps me up at night feeling like something is missing out of my life and that I will die unfulfilled if I don’t remedy the situation. It’s not the only thing I need in my life to feel complete, but the absence of an active and forward-moving musical life will guarantee a hole in my world. And I really hate sounding dramatic and using phrases like “it creates a hole” and talking about my soul and mortality and all that  stuff, so, rest assured, I wouldn’t say it if  I didn’t believe it were true.

Okay.

Now that I have that out of the way, I’ll just talk about some recent ongoings that, I think, illustrate this point, which was the whole intention to start with.

I’m currently writing this in the sky. The digital map embedded in the seat in front of me seems to indicate that I’m over expansive oceans south of Greenland, making an arduous beeline from London and heading towards Nova Scotia, before continuing and landing at JFK in New York to complete what has been a dream vacation of sorts. For the better part of the last 2 weeks, my family and I have been to various places around Italy, France, Spain, the Netherlands, and more. It’s, indeed, my first time across the pond. It took me over 46 years, but I finally got a chance to sample some European life. And it has been good. I knew it would be. How could it not? If you can’t appreciate a trip like this, you live a more privileged life than I can relate to.

Heading into the trip, I was ready for the break from work. And the break from the routine. But there were two things I knew I was going to miss. The cats and music. Yeah, I like cats. Not such a manly-man thing to say, but I’ve always lived with them and if you say I’m a dude who likes sleeping with kitties on the bed, I’m guilty as charged. 

With respect to music, it’s not as simple as saying, “Hey, I love to play, I can’t stop for a week and a half.” It’s that I felt like I wouldn’t miss it, but knew that I would in the absense of it. Let me explain… 

I have gone through periods in my life where I wasn’t as musically active as I wanted to be. Much like dating, music is often a scenario where you’re as active as your options. Well, for the last almost 10 years, I have been fortunate to be very active. Sometimes I have over-extended myself and felt the pinch of doing too much. As players, we often love getting out to our rehearsals as much as anything because we get to play, but I have found myself in situations where I actually have felt relieved about having a rehearsal cancelled, because it gives me much needed nights home to rest up. There was a time where I NEVER thought that could happen, because what could be more fun than playing music?

But, inevitably, if a couple rehearsals get cancelled and I end up having a slow week without any gigs, I start getting antsy and restless and craving music.

So, I went into vacation thinking, “This feels right to take a break,” but at the same time knowing that I would start missing it soon enough. And, sure enough, that’s what happened. 

I longingly watched drummers on vacation, wondering if there was any way they could let me sit in for a song or two (there wasn’t). I watched theatre singers, marveling about how good they were, but also feeling a kindred spirit that, although we do things that are from completely different musical worlds, there might be overlap and mutual respect for each other. I thought about my extremely busy August musical calendar that has nary an unbooked day in it starting after I return, and was filled with two contradicting emotions: stress over how busy and tired I am going to be, and relief that the commitments exist and are there, so I can make up lost time I have missed over the past two weeks.

I’ve got original shows, outdoor events, one-off performances, some music-based travel, and recordings scheduled… not to mention all the prep work for these things and the balanced load of returning to work and tending to family matters. And I am nervous about making the time, but thrilled to have to. And I will.

Flying home, I connect to some lousy airline WiFi and check out what my musical friends have been up to. I listen to my own recent compositions and performances. I’m overcritical (perhaps) of things I don’t like about them, and it makes me question myself a bit; and then I hear some stuff I like about what I did and it helps build my confidence back up. I start thinking about the next step, and how I will hit the ground running when this vessel touches ground. 

I will miss vacationing and my wonderful time I just had overseas… but I need to get back home, too. To readily available WiFi, to the cats, and to my musical world.

I miss these things.