Something that a few of you might not know about me is that I used to consider myself a musician of sorts. In college, I fancied myself as the singer/songwriter type, with a heavier emphasis on the latter portion of that. Truth be told, I wasn’t a half bad guitar player or singer, I just gravitated more towards the writing of songs and stories in them. Although I wasn’t especially great at any of those things, I did enjoy it.
Oddly enough, this was actually part of my identity a few years ago. People in college knew me as the “guitar guy”. In fact, when we returned to Tallahassee last month for a wedding and saw lots of old friends, many of them asked me if I was still playing and making music. It’s funny how in just a short matter of time, these things can fall by the wayside, and in some instances disappear from our lives. I had dreams to play in small venues and debut new songs. I never really wanted to be a rock star or anything. I certainly didn’t have the talent for it, but I can totally see the appeal. One of the bummer things about writing the way I do now is that there’s no rock star equivalent. People don’t want you to stage dive while you type up a particularly awesome bit of dialogue (though that would be rad).
I can’t really pinpoint exactly why I stopped playing guitar and writing music. Part of it was probably that I met all kinds of people in college and elsewhere who were just flat out more talented than I was. That tends to put a damper on any illusions you have in any creative field. Another part of it had to do with my job, I’m guessing. When I was working in youth ministry, it was almost a requirement to be able to play guitar and have a halfway decent singing voice. It was a great thing to stick on the resume. Eventually, it got so linked with my old job that it kind of lost its luster, especially when I stopped working for a church. It’s not really a good thing when those kinds of lines get blurred and your hobby ceases to be fun.
I think a lot of things in life are like this. There’s a process that we go through, a kind of refinement that defines what’s important to us in terms of both goals and hobbies. I had to learn eventually that music was a hobby, because I was never good enough nor had the passion for it enough to make it into a long term goal. Eventually, you have to set some things aside so that you can devote time to the thing that really matters to you. I imagine it only gets tougher as life goes on. Makes me wonder what other things I’ll lay down in the future.
I’m not saying you shouldn’t try to turn your hobby into your career. I mean, that’s exactly what I’m trying to do with writing fiction. Rather, I’m saying that some hobbies should stay as hobbies. With music, my eyes were far too big for my stomach, I think.
It’s not like I fell out of love with music completely, though. Occasionally I’ll get the fever back and pick up the Martin to give it a quick spin. I’ll even hum things to myself and record them on my phone for later reference. It’s just not my first love anymore the way it used to be. Right now, that spot is reserved for telling stories.
In some ways it’s sad, because I still like the lure of songwriting. Maybe sometime in the next few months, when I have more free time in my hands I might return to it. I kind of like the idea of writing video game related songs and just putting them on the Internet with no intention of selling them, really. Take the chorus of this Metal Gear Solid related song I wrote a few months ago:
Meryl, I couldn’t save you / Now I’m old and gray
But you came back / Anyway
Meryl, I’d never hurt you / Now I’m all washed up
Couldn’t press square / Fast enough
It’s pretty silly (and dorky), but I dig it. Occasionally I still get the itch, and it’s hard not to scratch. If I did choose to come back to it, I think I’d be in a better headspace to start playing again than I was a few years ago.
So what things that you’ve loved have you had to set aside for bigger goals? Do you find that you miss any of them?
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