“So I fired up the iPad…Refreshing myself on the picking pattern was like crawling inside the attic and finding boxes of old photos from high school.
Weird and embarrassing and fun — all at the same time.”
You don’t have to hang out with me very long to know that I almost always have a notebook within reach.
It’s a habit I’ve had since I was about 13. That’s when I finally realized that I forget almost everything that I don’t write down. When I fill up a notebook, I put it on the shelf, and start another.
Funny thing about these notebooks is how my relationship with them changes over time. My current notebook is like a bank. I deposit ideas, thoughts, and doodles for safe keeping — and hope for future…um…”interest.”
When I thumb through previous notebooks, they’re less like banks and more like mirrors. I see my past reflections, a blurry image my former self, and that view shows me some of what I’m like today. How I’ve changed. How I’ve grown or slipped. What core passions link my present decisions with my past desires.
Sometimes the image in the mirror makes me smile or laugh out loud. Sometimes it’s sobering wake-up call to see what I was and what I’ve become.
I was itching to try out recording with my new (to me) guitar last week when I came across an old notebook. There were some quotes to remember, some books I wanted to read. And here and there were a few lines of verse and some chords.
So I fired up the ol’ iPad and gave it a whirl. I remember playing this song at my little country church a few weeks after Christmas about a dozen years ago. Refreshing myself on the picking pattern was like crawling inside the attic and finding boxes of old photos from high school. Weird and embarrassing and fun — all at the same time.
Life was simple. Dreams were big. Odds were long. Risks were easy.
I had a good heart back then.