Finally! Some time to myself! I've been as busy as a one-armed painter with a bad itch for a few weeks now and it's time I took some time for MYSELF! It's also good to note that the local geography is experiencing symptoms of spring! That makes me feel better.
I sometimes wonder if the Universe or "That Which we Call God" doesn't have some perverse sense of humour... I keep getting pushed back into activities and situations I have been trying to leave behind in my life. I have been a musician since 1969, making this my fortieth year. I have been trying to "retire" from music for a number of years and I keep getting asked to perform. The same goes for teaching music. No matter how often I try to stop doing that, I keep getting asked to teach. Of course, the fact that I need to earn a living does not help; If I were independently wealthy I could afford to not play or teach music any more and I could be free to "follow my Bliss" to quote Joseph Campbell. Alas, that doesn't seem to be the case at this time in my life.
This brings me to a point. The word I used in the title, "Perseveration" is described as, "the pathological, persistent repetition of a word, gesture, or act, often associated with brain damage or schizophrenia." So is continually ending up in the same situation a form of perseveration? Can I be subconsciously putting myself into repeated behaviours due to some mental disorder? Am I really the architect of my own grief? Or are these things happening simply because people know I do (or have done) what they require doing? I have often thought I am cast in a role the world will not allow me to break out of. Call it typecasting if you will... But seriously, I have become known as a good musician and I think people expect me to WANT to play, and they expect me to be a good teacher because I have been a successful player. But after forty years of it, am I not allowed to want something else for myself? Am I not allowed to go on an extended vacation to another location? Must I always be in beer parlours and concert halls with dressing rooms that smell of beer and doobies? (Spell check underlined the word doobies, and suggested boobies... That might be nice. LOL) Perhaps in the end I keep returning to what I know best because I don't know too much else. Let's just hope I'm not perseverating!
~Still wandering...
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