Relative Something

Speaking of something relative, where does one choose a point of reference to judge a life to be appropriately balanced? There are many ways a person could view my level of activity as broad, and as many, or more, ways to perceive it as limited. I occasionally ponder what it would be like to play my guitar for hours every day. I could say the same thing about cycling, pursuing photography, creating sculptures, making jewelry, writing poetry, reading and consuming movies to my fill, backpack camping, landscaping my property, composing and recording songs, creating videos, researching genealogy, balancing rocks, all the while practicing being a husband, father and employee. None of my passions receive the attention they deserve. I live the concept of being skilled at a variety of things, master of none.

One of the most tactile examples for me is with regard to playing guitar. For every extended spell of days where I enjoy prolonged opportunities to practice and explore playing my guitars, there are equal, and usually longer, dry spells where I don’t even pick one up. Days are just too full and each one flies by without space that gets claimed by the guitar-playing compartment of me. The ever so valuable callouses that develop on my finger tips will peel away, leaving me with the need to rebuild them again next time I play. That’s really a bummer. I wonder what my playing would be like if I had been able to play for hours a day. I wonder what it would feel like to master something.

I am discovering that as much as I thought I knew about being a father, I have been overlooking that you don’t stop being a father just because your children reach the age of adulthood. I still need to learn what kind of dad I am going to be to adult children. Trial and error, same as I did the previous 23 years. Now that would be something to master: the art of continuing to learn from my errors. I certainly get plenty of opportunities to practice.