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Sunday, 5 February 2017

Onward and Upward

I had an odd out of body experience recently.

I had been playing guitar for about 40 minutes, working on a new bluesy style of playing, very percussive, very melodic.

I always practice guitar best with my eyes closed, I can concentrate on what I'm playing better that way.

After this practice, I opened my eyes and looked down at my hand, it felt wet.

My hands were sweaty, and there was a long line of blood running down my finger from where I'd hit the string a little too vigorously.
I say my hands, that wasn't what I saw.

I saw my Dad's arms, thick hairy arms, defined veins, long fingers, hairy knuckles. Signs of wear and tear.

I've finally cut out a smoking habit, but the small nicotine marks on my fingers were still visible.

Barely visible scars up my arms from a long long distant past.

I have been so caught up in University and the mad busyness of every day life that I've failed to notice that I've grown up. I know myself better than I ever did, I've started to do boring adult things like drinking lots of water and making packed lunches for myself, and having a sleeping pattern that doesn't involve 3AM.

I am finally getting University, the hours you have to spend with your head in books. I'm finally getting how to find that motivation.
And it's just about to finish, for now.

I've got a job lined up post university, for Christ's sake.

And most importantly, I've began to realise that I am an introvert, and that I recharge my batteries by spending time on my own. That used to puzzle the hell out of me when I was younger, I would feel so drained and tired sometimes in people's company, and I used to get so frustrated with myself.

I'm growing up, I'm getting a back-story, I'm making my legacy, and it's happened without me realising it.

I mentioned earlier turning into my Father - the thought of that five years ago would have filled me with existential dread.

Now I'm OK with that. I really am.
If I am half the man he is, I will be over the moon.

Hopefully I'll remember his stories right; what's the point in growing up if you can't tell your younger relatives the same stories each time the family get together?