I have a new relationship in my life. It’s with something that’s loud, makes appearances at all hours of the day, and has no regard for my life and wishes. It’s not a great relationship. Mostly because it’s with a train...or trains.
This summer we moved to a lovely neighborhood that is central to so many of our favorite spots in Nashville. Our house is tiny, but cute and we have a huge backyard that Mowgli has enjoyed greatly.
The problem? The train rolls right by our house 5-6 (a million) times a day.
Not a big deal. Unless you’re trying to record music and need absolute silence.
The combination of the train + my wobbly emotional state + recording has not = happiness.
I end days in tears and frustration because I can’t get anything done, or as much done as I would like.
So, I decided I was going to stop making music.
OR, under Joe’s suggestion, I could find a quieter space to record.
I decided on the latter. This week I found an amazing spot that is affordable and more importantly soundproof. I’m so excited to be able to create music in peace and quiet.
I write all this because I’ve always assumed that when things are hard, or when they don’t come easily for me, that I should quit. If the train interrupts a take it means I shouldn’t be a musician right?
I know this is lunacy, but it is how I’ve functioned for most of my life. Hence my “wobbly” emotional state.
But thank God, between a conversation with Vera (one of my amazing sister’s) last week and devouring “The War of Art” I’ve realized the fallacy in my logic.
Guess what? Life is hard. Guess what? The train WILL roll by. I can’t control that. But loud trains don’t make me less of a musician anymore than a fight with your spouse makes you less married. It just is.
So I’m leaving this here as a reminder. Resistance can take many forms. It can be a train, or my weird brain, but that’s all it is, resistance. And it can be overcome.