Mounting the Mountains

“It never ends.”

That’s the thing that hit me a few days ago.

At the moment I got lost in the minutia of my work, in that it never ends (something I’ve know about working in and around music since 2001). It never stops.

I think that’s in parallel to life right now; the uncertainty, the mess, the chaos, the death…. it never ends.

Or at least, I don’t see how it ever gets back on track. I don’t know how I’m ever going to be in another basement show in the middle of summer, surrounded by sweaty shirtless dudes, in a room with zero air flow. Like, how?

When will I get back on packed bus bound for NYC, and sit shoulder to shoulder with absolute strangers again?

All of the normal things we’ve done, thing we did for DECADES… every day it’s further away, being stripped away. It never ends.

March feels like seven years ago, just as this morning feels like it happened last week.

As I write this, I just got off a video call with (technically) with clients, but really they’re fantastic friends, and I’m glad I got to share a bit of that on a Friday night.

I also wrestled with a flow of never ending work stuff a few hours ago, where it felt impossible to keep up.

But I also watched the new episode of the Madalorian.

And ran five miles.

A lot of these things used to be mundane, expected, nothing special, but now they’re like mile-markers, big events, in a life now void of major movements.

Thankful for the here and now. No idea how many chapters this weekend will have, but planning on accepting every second.