I was frustrated and felt lost with my life, music and career. I kept feeling I should be doing more, or at least something different. Music was a wash and as much as I wanted to continue I began to listen to the world and all the voices in my head saying “Your just not good enough. You should quit and get a real job.” So I began applying to other jobs, I began to look into moving to Ashland, OR where my wife and I have always wanted to live. I pursued all kinds of things and every one of them fell apart or failed in one way or another. I felt like I was in a room circled with doors but none of them would open and when I started kicking at them all I got was tired. After months and months of this I collapsed after a long depression. My wife encouraged me to just “hang out” one Saturday so I grabbed my notebook and a cigar and sat outside. I tried to work on a song but nothing worked. I tried to work on a chapter in my book about being present but couldn’t find the right words. I wrote and rewrote but all my words ended up in tiny heaps at the bottom of the page. I finally threw down my notebook and sat there staring at the ground as all my frustrations rose like a torrent to the surface. As I rubbed my eyes I looked over and say my son Wilder quietly filling up a bucket with sand and then covering it with tiny red and yellow leaves from our tree. I then watched him as something caught his eye. He got up and walked across the yard to the very corner where hanging over the fence is a cherry tree. The cherry blossoms where falling like snow and Wilder simply sat down and raised his arms like a child catching rain. He sat there for maybe 15 minutes before he got up, walked quietly back to his bucket, and continued his project.
I sat there overwhelmed with such a beautiful moment and also stunned that as I wasted my time trying to write about being present, I was not present. I was missing it. I had wanted a sign. Something to tell me where to go and what to do. I wanted a burning bush or deep voice ringing in my head calling my name instead I got nothing. I was given silence. As I sat there I began to receive the silence. I began to receive the silence. I let it speak to me. Sometimes a sign is no sign at all. Sometimes we are just where we are supposed to be. I needed to stop the talking in my head and just be present. I didn’t need to write about it, I needed to do it. Things would change when they were ready. The doors would open when they unlocked. Nothing I could do would change that. It was my ego that wanted the change. It was my ego that needed a sign from the universe telling me how IMPORTANT I was to the world but in actuality everything I needed I had. I was in the right place. My family was happy. Once I realized that I was calm. My depression lifted and after 5 or 6 months when a door opened I noticed it instead of focusing on the ones that I wanted to open or would not open. Looking back I can see clearly now just as it is important to notice the road signs in your life, it is just as important to realize the quiet moments. The moments when there are no signs -the pauses, the silences, the moments inbetween – have just as much to tell us. Sometimes a sign, is no sign at all.
