People don't know what outcome that they really need most.
You have this secret desire. It's been there for a long time. You love listening to me, even though you say you "don't play an instrument."
I am the soundtrack to your life, the thump of your stereo, the harmonies bellowing from your phone, the waves crashing on the beach, the birds in the trees. Second by second. Minute by minute. Year by year. I've been there for you.
There is this edginess that surrounds the stigma of the "guitar player", the "bass player", the "lead singer." That's not you. You don't want attention... you just want to be able to participate sometimes. You don't trust yourself to do that, you don't feel competent.
You are a nurturer. A person who doesn't have time to get through the awkwardness of making a chord shape or the patience to slowly figure out a strumming pattern until you can play it up to speed...
Until now. Now the whole world is shut down, under quarantine. You've been at home for weeks and when you were cleaning out your closet you found the guitar you've been moving from place to place because you knew one day you were finally going to learn how to play it.
You are ready to begin a new journey with me. Time to shift your experience from a passive listener to an active player. It's not about performance, it's about connection. Right now the world might be on pause, but the rhythm of your heart is not stopping. You are worthy of having more than a nurturing side, becoming a rebel even if it's quietly at home in your room with your guitar. It's not going to be a jarring revelation, but a gentle awakening.
This is going to be uncomfortable sometimes. It's going to reveal who you truly are. In the discomfort is where we find grace. You are going to be so focused on connection with me as the notes fly from your fingertips that the noise of everything else will fall silent.
The vibration of your strings will shift you into a new knowing and after some sweat and some sore fingers, you will experience in real time the fruits of your labor. In the moments that we commune, bands of frustration will start to break and fall away.
It's time to recognize the line between stability and confinement. Your mind has tricked you into thinking you can't do this. Be gentle with her as you press your fingers into the frets and sometimes pick the wrong strings.
Spending more time with me will be a crucial step in setting you free.
This is an offering, not a push. Wait another year and I'll still be here. I'll always be here, for you and all of your kind.
Love you old friend,
If you ready for her, music awaits.
If you need permission and encouragement. I'm here.