We're letting go. After getting home from the last tour, this bird was burnt the f*ck out. Over five years we've been an indie band, busting our butts to try and reach some imagined destination in the future where we might find some sort of stability and security in doing what we love to do for a living. All the while, I've watched my friends and colleagues in the music industry climb that same mountain, wondering what keeps them going, wondering if I wasn't as hungry or as talented or as married to the struggle of it all. I especially disliked the gross combination of joy and jealousy I felt when witnessing their achievements. I'm not proud of that, but I'll admit it.
Don't get me wrong, the results of all that hard work have been tangible. We've accomplished a lot and have experienced so many incredible moments and met so many lifelong friends because of that tenacious work. As my dad says "if it were easy, everyone would do it." But here's where I went wrong: I worked toward my imagined future at the expense of my present reality. I neglected myself and my ability to be happy in a moment.
So that's going to stop. As I mentioned last month, we still have goals. We still practice religiously. We're still doing our best to book shows and record albums and plan tours and raise money and share our music. But now, living life takes precedence over imagining it. Cooking and cuddling and walks and runs and novels and friends and writing and laughing and family will be the priority. Phone calls and press releases and accounting and promoting and emails (like this one) can wait just a bit.