Patrick Mosher reflects on clearing out his house during the pandemic and discovers a guitar he bought forty years ago after a friend named Tina urged him to become a troubadour. He never learned to play it. Now he faces a choice: let go of the unfulfilled expectation or finally commit to music.
Chapters
This is a great time for your end-of-year clearance. Start the new year fresh and renewed. With so much time at home this past year, we cleaned house. Then we cleaned the garage. Then we cleaned the yard. Then we went back to cleaning the house and continued the cycle. We created this get-rid-of pile in the basement, which is right here, and in the garage. As months of self-quarantine continued, these piles grew and were slimming down more and more. It's a beautiful feeling to unburden from stuff. Energy is released. What should go into your end-of-year clearance pile? In the beginning, the pile included easy stuff to get rid of: a computer desk we no longer use, old cameras, TiVo machines, and other technology from the 1990s. Isn't it an antique defined as something older than 20 years? Well, the next level of stuff was even harder. These things have memory, history, even identity all wrapped up in them. And I came across one item, barely used it over 40 years, and I looked at it and I put it in the pile and I took it out. Then I put it back in the pile and I took it out again. This item has a story. When I was in my early 20s, I attended and moderated a lot of retreats. Inevitably, some of us would stay up into the wee morning hours talking about our purpose in life, the state of the world, and how spirit works its magic, and deep, deep philosophies. You know how those conversations go, right? Well, late one night, must have been 2 in the morning, I was talking to my friend Tina. Our discussion delightfully drifted to music and how it lifts the soul. Musical notes dance in our hearts. And she finally says, "Hey Patrick, go get your guitar and we'll sing together." Disappointment pierced my heart. I didn't have a guitar. I didn't even know how to play. Hmm. You seem to be the kind of guy that would have a guitar. Well, you know where this story is going. The next week, I went to the guitar store and bought one. I had to fulfill my destiny, complete my identity as a troubadour. Months rolled by, years even. I picked up that guitar and learned a few chords. I think Puff the Magic Dragon was the extent of my repertoire. I was fascinated by harmonics, so I learned how to play a couple of them. So then fast forward 40 years, that guitar has followed every move, and yet I can't even play Puff the Magic Dragon anymore. As I face this year's end-of-year clearance, I looked at that guitar. I'm reminded of Tina. The identity of troubadour is embedded in my being, and yet it is a destiny in an identity unfulfilled. This is my end-of-year crisis. I face a choice. Do I release a decades-long unfulfilled expectation that may be dragging me down, or do I commit like never before and pick up that guitar and learn to make music? What do you think? I would love to hear your opinion. Just respond to this blog post. But, ah, wait, this is not my dilemma alone. What will be your end-of-year clearance pile? What items drag you down that you need to release, and what items do you need to commit to to expand your identity next year? So what goes on your list? High-tech cameras? NordicTrax and other fitness equipment? Never read books? Never taken online courses? Childhood trophies? VHS players, musical instruments, 3.5-inch floppy disks, CD collections. Listen, I'm a sentimental guy. Some might even say a packrat. And I'm going to keep a lot of that stuff that holds fond memories. But yet it's a perfect time to evaluate things, to release or retain. So what to do with that guitar? Start the new year unburdened with an unbreakable intent to make your significant impact. And so learn continuously. And I'll ask again: Oh, do I release or retain?
