
“Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love.” ~Rumi
I was on tour with a famous rock legend, Joe Walsh from the mega-successful seventies band, The Eagles.
We were riding around in one of those air brushed tour busses, living the party life and flying to exotic places. Staying in the finest hotels. Beautiful women hanging around the backstage door trying to get my attention.
You would think this would be a dream come true, right?
Here I was rubbing shoulders with people like Stevie Nicks, Willie Nelson, and The Fabulous Thunderbirds, and yet, I wasn’t happy. Not really.
And you know what really sucks?
When you’re so close to your dream you can almost reach out and touch it, but for some reason you can’t. Something is holding you back.
You spend years working hard just to get next to it. You’re working right there in the area of your passion. But you aren’t actually living it.
You’re helping someone else to live theirs.
It feels like your face is pressed up against a glass wall. And there, just on the other side is the thing you’re really supposed to be doing.
I was his sound engineer. But the dream was to be playing guitar up onstage with him.
The band and crew were like family because we had done several tours together. Joe knew I rehearsed regularly with the band when he didn’t show up and that I knew the music cold.
Even the guys in the band agreed it would sound better if I was playing the other guitar parts but it wasn’t their place to say.
All I had to do was ask. But I couldn’t seem to get up the nerve. I just couldn’t get past the uncertainty of what might happen if I took the leap and got shot down.
I was poised to jump but paralyzed by fear.
I guess I was just hoping the other band members would put in the good word and do my bidding for me by asking to have a second guitar player.
I was wrong.
Nothing happened. The train kept a rolling with me still behind the soundboard. Still unhappy.
I figured out in the silent weeks that followed that no one just hands you the keys to the highway. You have to ask for them.
Finally, I arrived at the place where I could no longer stand by and accept my “close but no cigar” status. The idea that I would have to live with the consequences of not trying was simply too much to bear.
So I decided to cast my fears and uncertainty to the wind and just ask Joe if I could play the gig.
And then something very strange happened.
I never got the chance. (more…)