Sometimes it takes awhile to finish a thing you start. But that’s no reason to give up.
Forty years ago, in my guitar playing era, I often wrote lyrics and then tucked the penciled pages away in a blue cloth covered binder. Last year, in a brave reflective moment, I revisited the frayed/faded notebook that holds my old attempts at lyrical poetic expression and realized that it’s symbolic and represents how it’s always been with me - I write/compose to find out what I think. Whether in poetry, prose or lyrics, I’m just trying to figure things out - including myself. Sometimes after I corral some thoughts in written word I say, “Wow, did not see that coming!”
Full disclosure, I’ve never claimed to be good at anything, or equal to anyone else, least of all on a professional level. I’m the quintessential jack-legged amateur so if nothing else, I should be an inspiration to anyone who just wants to create as though no one else is ever going to see or hear and for no other reason than for the sake of doing it without fear of falling short or needing to be ‘as good as’ anyone else’s standards.
Life does not have to be a constant competition/striving to be best of best. I’ve never known who was officially appointed to establish that criteria anyway so I’ve always chosen to focus only on competing with my own personal best or otherwise be forced to just shut down completely. But where’s the fruit in that?
What’s the point of a life unlived for fear of being judged to be less than perfect?
What is perfect, btw?
So, having worked in earnest on this one piece in particular off and on for the last year, I’m now ready to share ‘Seasons’ which is actually the culmination of 40+ years of composition, recording, stopping, adding to, deleting, giving up on and then finally getting to the place where I’m not totally ashamed to let it out into the universe.
Though I was so much younger when I started this, my kids still small and the future looming as a great unknown, yet I knew, even then, it was really an older mother’s song. Now, a lifetime of seasons later, it means much more to me in ways I could never have understood when I wrote it so long ago. And those three small kids are now older than I was then and have their own accumulated seasons to reflect on. Time moves on relentlessly.
I confess it was torture when I had to give up my guitar because of aging hands but then I found a spark of renewed joy in a little ukulele and now I also have access to digital technology that did not exist 40 years ago. Therefore, as late as this is, I’m grateful and relieved that I now can claim - I did it - even as I can blame it all on the ukulele.
And, yes, I understand it’s not prime time quality but that’s okay, it doesn’t have to be.
Meema says, “Do it anyway, with everything you’ve got and, whatever it is, it will be enough.”
Meema says, “A thing done late is way better than never because never is so limiting.”