Certain situations and combination of events and feelings coincide and then all existential hell breaks loose in me. I’ve gotten off on a track of thinking that has led me to this point of stress, angst, emotional upheaval. Partly, the stress stems from this Guitar Bar idea becoming more about me, and less about the venue. More pointedly, the stress of defining myself. Identity markers. Strip away those and we fall apart, evaporate, cease to exist or are merely taking up space.

How do we stay balanced in our understanding of success? Is success represented by money?
by acknowledgment of others?
by happiness?
by how many people love us?
by our contribution?
does it matter to someone?
does it matter to a great many someones?

Perhaps I should never make my artistic endeavors a source of income. Perhaps I should just be what I am: retired. . . someone who enjoys writing and recording music for friends or to give as gifts, creating art, writing books, and going to flea markets and buying and selling on eBay. . .I have a peaceful environment, plenty to keep me interested and busy; a few close friends, pets I adore, the ability to walk around outside in beautiful surroundings and take a deep breathe and just be in the moment.

The only thing that’s missing for me, then, is the right “someone” to share it with. But my standards are so high, that my odds are low. I have to cling to the belief that the universe has a wisdom beyond my comprehension, and when it is time for my person to waltz into the room, she will, and I won’t be OUTSIDE in my beautiful surroundings, taking deep breaths and being in the moment.