What really matters

I've become aware that advanced learning, wide experience, professional success, compassion & a life of seeking w/an open mind are overrated. What matters is thinking you're clever and having a Twitter account.

The challenge of mindful flat picking

After all these years of playing the guitar, I've come to realize the major impediment to my skill level is the inability to stay focused on my fingers, in particular, on the kinesthetic sensation of the flat pick in my right hand. Until quite recently, my habit was to focus on fretting with my left hand.  When I am able to maintain focus on my right hand, the pick moves more reliably to the correct position to play long, fast strings of notes. When I realized this, I began to practice keeping my focus on my right hand; but, the problem I have, despite hours & hours of practice, is verbal thought process interfering with that focus. I'm making incremental progress but still have much room for improvement!

Today is Lauren's birthday

She's 35 years old. Mary Lou called and left a voice message singing Happy Birthday off key, I sent a sweet e-card from Blue Mountain. Lauren and Mark are going on the big African trip with Jenny, Mary Lou and me in August. I'm very happy she's going. 

How I spend my time

I wonder about my daily habits and feel the need to reflect on the way I spend my time.  I have established a fairly rigid pattern: When I wake up around 6am, the time MaryLou gets up, I open a new game of Wordle and play it in bed. Typically, I look at my Twitter feed for awhile to see what has happened with the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Eventually, I get up and make a bowl of cereal with half of a banana which I take to my preferred chair in the family room. While eating it, I continue to look through the tweets describing the fighting on both micro and macro levels. The past few days I've also read threads on the leaked SCOTUS majority draft by Alito reversing Roe v Wade but Ukraine is the reason I'm spending time on Twitter. This may go on all morning. Or if I didn't get adequate sleep, I go back to bed and get another hour or so.

At some point, I begin drinking coffee. A bit later, I make a small breakfast of toast and a Jimmy Dean turkey sausage patty. At some point, I get up and water the flower pots outside. I have lunch around 1130 or 12, sometimes going out with Mary Lou to one of our go to cafes, sometimes making a small microwave lunch. After lunch, I get sleepy and lie down for awhile to reset my brain. 

Every few days, I get out to run errands such as going to the grocery store and picking up prescriptions at CVS. Sometimes I work in the yard cleaning up leaves, spraying weeds with Roundup, cutting down vines and so on. I'm doing pushups most days in an effort to keep my body functioning. For eccentric reasons, I like to do a prime number, 17 or 19 are favorites. I may practice on the guitar a bit, usually without plugging into an amp. Lately I've spent a good bit of time practicing my arrangement of "Whiskey before breakfast," a classic old time fiddle and banjo tune. On Thursday evenings at 9pm, I usually perform a 20 or 30 minute set of my original songs at Henry Turner, Jr's Listening Room and Heritage Museum. I have to psych myself up to run through the songs on Thursday afternoon and I'm usually very tired on Friday, even though I try to leave shortly after I play rather than staying to hear Henry finish off the evening, Almost no one comes except Henry's band members and Marcia, his venerable, long time manager. 

During all of this, I think about the world and my life, well aware that the clock is ticking and it all counts. I have dinner with Mary Lou between 530 and 6pm. We often watch ABC News with David Muir followed by the PBS News Hour. Then, with Mary Lou's approval, we will watch a show I picked out that falls within our shared tastes and interests. We've been through numerous British and foreign detective shows. Now we're watching interesting documentaries on nature and history. Mary Lou drinks her wine with bags of microwave popcorn while I eat grapes, string cheese and Ritz crackers. Every other day or so I have an Jameson Irish coffee with a birthday cup of Bluebell vanilla ice cream and whipped dairy topping. Mary Lou conks out around 9 and I sit up a while longer looking at Twitter or watching an NBA basketball game.

I question myself: Why don't I work on my recordings? Why don't I work on organizing the family archives? Why have I become so passive?  Why don't I get out and walk or ride my bike these days, knowing that exercise gives me more energy and is good for my long-term health? 

There are multiple answers. I feel lethargic. I don't take Adderall any more, It doesn't matter what I do. Because I don't have to.  Because I don't have accomplishments to pursue and look forward to. Because the romance has gone from my life. Because I'm getting old. These aren't questions or right and wrong. The simple patterns I'm repeating daily are OK. There's virtue in simplicity.