I was rubbing my thumb over my fingertips as I did some on-line reading (yes, it’s impossible for me to be still) and I was struck for a moment because I couldn’t feel with the tips of my left fingers.
I had to think a moment before realizing, Oh, they’re from all my guitar playing lately.
In the past I’ve only noticed calluses as they’ve (messily) gone away, so it was fun to notice my playing is having some effect.
For almost two weeks now I’ve been playing my guitar every day. I have no structure to my blips of practice, and so I’m probably advancing slower than I could, but its “clicking” better than ever before and I enjoy practicing like never before.
I find it interesting that I dove back into guitar a week after I had storytelling off my plate (and I was thankful to be able to focus on writing as my single “creative” endeavor), but one of the benefits of having nothing set in stone is that I can follow my inclinations and see what happens.
Guitar has been a nice balance to my writing as a physical, musical act to balance the stillness and (relative) silence of the novel. It’s also been nice to take into the room where the kids play or pack to the park so I can get some time while still being available to my children.
Have I said lately how much I love my job?
Tell me anything else I could be doing that marries so perfectly my responsibilities and my inclinations.