Loving It for What It Is

I have another guest blogger today, who will be familiar to many of you. Paul Martin, of Original Faith. At age twenty-three, Paul had a spontaneous experience of the kind of consciousness usually approached through meditation. He went on to receive master’s degrees in religious studies and counseling. For more information about Paul, his free eBook and his book Original Faith: What Your Life Is Trying to Tell You, visit www.originalfaith.com.

Here, Paul uses his experience as a musician to share a very valuable insight with us. Yeah. Paul is my kind of guy…

Loving It for What It Is

Paul Martin

When I was eighteen I got my first drumming gig with Terry and the TJs, a local general business band that played clubs and weddings. I played on and off with them over the next several years, mostly summers. Terry did lead vocals and her husband Joe played keyboard. They’d hire lead guitar and drums.

It was a great way for me to earn money for college – pretty good pay for short hours. And Joe was great at keeping us booked months ahead.

The thing is, it wasn’t nearly as, uh – cool – as I would have liked. Terry and Joe were a middle-aged couple, which is exactly how they came across. Friendly, comfortable with themselves, dependable –this was a big factor in how regularly we got bookings. Heck, they weren’t just friendly they were folksy, which was another thing… I felt that there was way too much country in their repertoire for a drummer with my chops!

It’s true that I was better on drums than Terry and Joe were on vocals and keyboard. Terry sang on key, but didn’t really have pipes. Joe’s keyboarding was passable but pretty rudimentary. But hiring drummers and guitarists who were better musicians than they were was another ingredient to their success.

And as unremarkable as the music was overall, every night there were times when the guitarist would solo and I’d have an absolute blast accompanying him. And making music, even when it’s generally just OK, is still a whole lot of fun…

Like listening carefully to punctuate a guitar riff just right. Or playing a record over and over at home until I’d nailed a tricky fill and got to watch Terry turn toward me and smile the first time I played it at a club. And the way that even a mediocre band shows flashes of brilliance, like when one of their guitarists who hardly ever sang would sing “Georgia” with such a depth of feeling that the dance floor filled out every time.

Most of the activities connected with making music were enjoyable too – like the efficiency with which I’d set up and pack in my kit. Or how I used to stand bent over in the van long before I knew anything about back pain to receive each of the seventy-pound speakers from Joe, flipping one into place and then rotating at the waist for the next.

I appreciated all of it while it was happening, but not nearly enough. It was hard for me to see clearly through the fog of the cooler kind of band I thought I should be with. Big dreams are wonderful – except that I was using mine to look down on my present reality, making me overlook how wonderful it was in its own right.

Is there anyone or anything in your life that you don’t appreciate enough for what it is? What kind of fog gets in your way?

Love Always,

Paul