Contrary to what those closest to me think, I’m not my Own worst critic. In fact, that idea is redundant.
Your own worst critic.
It’s meaningless.
What you’re supposed to be is completely honest with yourself, for better or worse. know your strengths. 0am your weaknesses.I know there’s things I’m really great at. I’ve got a damn fine ear for a melody. I can come up with some cool musical landscapes. If they gave Grammys for action-packed chord changes, I’d have a few on my mantelpiece by now.
But there something I’ve not been doing well. Not because I’m not good at. Just because… I dunno. Maybe I got scared.Lately, I’ve just not gone deep enough. My story has been about technology and access ibility, and that’s allgreat… but it’s not the whole story. Not by a long way.
The big reason I’m here now, late-blooming, is because of mental health issues. A lifetime (so far) of mental lsealth issues. Depression, anxiety, substance is alcohol abuse-they’re all been there, holding me back. It’s been a brutal ride-my inner turmoil has been amplified to life threatening volume at times. And just lately, with everything going so well, I thought I’d escaped all that.
So, in recent years, when I should have been dealing with stuff, I’re just beaten myself with guilt. I have a life with my soul mate. The actual one. We have 3 im possibly beautiful kids. We have real, meaningful security in life. I have a career that mostly consists of people giving me money to kick stuff off my bucket list.How dare I be depressed, eh?
But still, my demons are there. And I ‘m realising, slowly, that it’s not a destination. It’s never going to be a ticked off, packed away thing. Being okay is a transient state. It’s an endless process. And I need to be okay with that.Music has always been the way I make sense of me and my shit. And I stopped seeing it that way. I started seeing it as just a job.That’s not why I picked up a guitar in 1993.
To have a job.I was trying to understand myself and my place.This isn’t a criticism of the opportunities I’ve had. It’s not the glove’s fault that I ‘ve been tiptoeing.I dropped the ball.I stopped letting myself feel, or deal with anything.
Music is the only way I’ve ever known to fix things. I’m not fixed. I may never be. And I need to be okay with that. But I can keep fixing. I can keep doing. And I can use all these beautiful tools and opportunities to do what matters to me the most.Music is a great job, but it’s way more important than that.
And I am more important than it. It’s the best tool I have to be a better version of me.