I can’t write songs at the moment. I sit at my keyboard, play a chord and nothing inspires me. But that’s ok, it’ll come back. I’ve had writer’s block enough times to know it is impermanent like everything else. So I’ve started writing poems again, one a day after my morning meditation practice.
This morning it is stormy here in the Australian bush, the wind blowing the rain sideways. We’ve had so much rain the grass grows tall and so green it hurts your eyes to look at it. In the evenings the wallabies come to graze. They don’t seem to mind us.
The start of January is always a difficult time for me after the high of Christmas (yes I am like a small child). It’s hard to get going again, to get focused. But I have a new album to finish that is five years in the making and now at last we can see the end in sight. I have a new book to publish and an album of instrumental cello music to record. And a tour of south-east Queensland to promote.
All these are my reasons for being, reasons to stave off the black dog snapping at my heels. We are all stressed, we are all anxious about what will happen next. I hope 2022 will see the end of the pandemic and I will be able to travel to see my family again for the first time in over 2 years. I miss them more than they know.
But my life is here, in the bush, with the trees and the wallabies and the mist that comes creeping down the Obi Obi valley at dawn. I know why I am here and what it is I must do. To sing songs to people, to compose music, to write poems, to play my part in this crazy world we live in. Hope is a potent elixir. So I sit at my keyboard, play a chord and wait for inspiration to come…
