I’ve been told, and I’ve even told others, “It’s about the journey, not the destination.” I’ve been thinking about that lately and wondering – Am I the only one who gets really tired of the journey sometimes? Sure, there are always things to appreciate if we look hard enough. But does anyone else ever find themselves asking, “Are we there yet?” And the even harder question: “Is everyone else going to get there before me?”
As I was busy sending out emails tonight, trying to line up gigs, my mind started rolling on this topic again. Sending out email after email that I know will likely not receive a response, I found myself silently cursing the journey and longing for the destination. That destination being… what? Where would the journey of writing, rehearsing, performing and self-promotion end? Maybe getting a particular gig? Selling a certain number of CDs? Being on the cover of the Rolling Stones? Ok, so that last one may count as a destination but it’s not one I’m willing to hold my breath for. So if there’s no real destination, and the journey is grinding me down, what mental gymnastics can I use to keep myself motivated? And why bother?
If you’ve heard my song “Headed Home” (and if not, WHY not? Listen to it for free here) you already know a little bit about our family vacations from Kansas to Colorado every summer when I was a kid. A part of those trips that didn’t quite make it into the song was stopping at Stuckey’s for a dose of straight sugar via their pecan log rolls. Yeah, they sound disgusting to me now, ranking right up there with deep-fried Twinkies, but at the time they meant a stop, a stretch, and something decadent in the middle of endless Kansas wheat fields. Not the destination, but something to look forward to along the way. I guess that’s what keeps me going musically – those breaks along the way that refuel me, like coming up with just the right lyric or having someone tell me how much my music has touched them.
This musical road trip is a long hard drive with no destination, and there are lots of other people on the same road making better time than me. I might as well be realistic about that. But it will be a lot more fun if I can remember to savor the pecan log rolls along the way.
As I was busy sending out emails tonight, trying to line up gigs, my mind started rolling on this topic again. Sending out email after email that I know will likely not receive a response, I found myself silently cursing the journey and longing for the destination. That destination being… what? Where would the journey of writing, rehearsing, performing and self-promotion end? Maybe getting a particular gig? Selling a certain number of CDs? Being on the cover of the Rolling Stones? Ok, so that last one may count as a destination but it’s not one I’m willing to hold my breath for. So if there’s no real destination, and the journey is grinding me down, what mental gymnastics can I use to keep myself motivated? And why bother?
If you’ve heard my song “Headed Home” (and if not, WHY not? Listen to it for free here) you already know a little bit about our family vacations from Kansas to Colorado every summer when I was a kid. A part of those trips that didn’t quite make it into the song was stopping at Stuckey’s for a dose of straight sugar via their pecan log rolls. Yeah, they sound disgusting to me now, ranking right up there with deep-fried Twinkies, but at the time they meant a stop, a stretch, and something decadent in the middle of endless Kansas wheat fields. Not the destination, but something to look forward to along the way. I guess that’s what keeps me going musically – those breaks along the way that refuel me, like coming up with just the right lyric or having someone tell me how much my music has touched them.
This musical road trip is a long hard drive with no destination, and there are lots of other people on the same road making better time than me. I might as well be realistic about that. But it will be a lot more fun if I can remember to savor the pecan log rolls along the way.