Returning to roots.

I sat preparing my music and checking my sounds. Jeff - the other kid - tuned his guitar. I would like to think we - newly minted teenagers - played at St. Jude the Apostle every Sunday because our faith called us. But it was the invitation to get to play music every week that kept us coming back.

Today - it's Sunday for me - I am driving 2 hours north to play at a church. Sounds like a lot of work for a church gig. I woke up at 5 am, did my morning work, writing to you, and then I'll prepare to go. I need to arrive by 8:30 am, rehearse, and play service. Then I'll need to wait 4-5 hours before I can rehearse and play another service. I've never played the music before, I don't know the musicians, and I've never attended the church.

For all of this effort, I may be ending my day with a financial loss. I am okay with that.
For a musician, that is the deal. But for me, it's (almost) never been about the cash.  

Life is effortless when you get invited to do the things that make you come alive.

And today I do something that a kid - decades ago - discovered made him come alive.