Secret Performance

If a guitar is played in the woods and there is no one there to hear, is it a performance?

I love to play the guitar. I never had the money and have never made the time to take lessons, but I’ve been blessed with a modicum of ability enough to have gained monstrous amounts of enjoyment from it. But I’ve only rarely found a niche where anybody else wanted to hear what I had, so most of my playing has been by myself. I’ve struggled with that for many years, but lately have had a good deal of peace about it. Last night at the grocery store, I happened to run into a friend from the school who is coordinating the summer chapels. He asked if I would lead the singing time one day next week. Okay, yeah, if I’m asked to play I won’t turn it down. I needed to work out how to play one of the requested songs so early this morning after getting my wife off to work with two hot eggs in her tummy, I figured I better get out the guitar and get my fingers used to the strings again after they have been lifting heavy boxes for the last month or so. I sat in the bedroom and let my hands get acquainted once again with my dear old friend, Martin D-18. My soon-to-be daughter in law had crashed in the living room after going to a late movie with my son last night. I was playing softly so as not to wake her, but it was so early and she seemed really deep in the ozone so I didn’t think she’d be disturbed. Later, as I was typing my last post, she got up and wandered into the kitchen and told me how much she enjoyed hearing my playing. She said she was lying there, waking up, hoping I wouldn’t stop. Wow. Nobody has ever said that to me before. You just never know what someone will appreciate.