sǝuoſ ǝuıɥsunS | notebook, journal, inter-web log

As we approach the end of this interesting year, the holidays loom around the corner like a secret agent about to make an arrest, and rain taps at my window lulling me to sleep at night, I welcome all the changes which arrive in my life every day.

I’m letting go of so many things right now. It’s been the year of letting go. While my knee jerk reaction is “Wheew… I’m glad the year is almost over, I am so ready for a new year…” I see plainly that I haven’t really learned the year’s lesson. I have let go of so many things. Friends, ideas, love, family, the distance between me and my son, much of my identity, my pride (which is an entire essay in and of itself) and huge chunks of ego which are of no positive purpose in my life any more. In many ways it’s been a wonderful year. I’ve grown so much, and life is good. Music is plowing it’s way out of me with a voice I’ve never heard before, I am deeply inspired by my peers, my productions and performances have become something which I admire, and feel are alive, and awake, reaching further than I have ever reached before. That said, I also see how the year’s end and its acceleration of lessons for me, opportunities to see how much further I have to go, how much more work is required, the temptation to shut down, and give in to exhaustion, self-pity, and those familiar holiday blues is seductive to say the least.

This year has seen me standing up on my own for the first time in a long time. Traveling, performing, producing, recording, getting a weekly radio show up and on the air with a new theme and a beautiful poster, new people, new places, new friends, and new life. My mentor and treasured friend Silas passed away. Picking up those pieces has been slow, and loaded with emotion. I found a new man to bring my internal work to, not a replacement, but on my path it’s not a wise idea to go it alone… smart as I am, when it comes to me I have little or no judgement whatsoever… beginning this new relationship has been interesting. Creating a vision beyond the monthly hustle of DJ gigs (which is so fragile anyway) and reaching forward to a life of abundance and security where I may better realize my own inner visions has proved to be the greatest challenge of the year.

As a stubborn, determined, and difficult man, I have undertaken the notion that I need to stop talking. I want to stop saying what it is that I should do, or what house music should be, or what “we” should be doing when we get together… my opinion, frankly, bores me to tears. I decided as I began to launch Treehouse Muzique, that what was most important was the music itself. She is our voice, and the application or presentation of what we create is merely an intervening substance, the raw material by which this sense of rhythm, emotion, and sound is received. I have always known that we are no more than vehicles, the DJ is not a star, and shouldn’t be held up as one (there I go with a should again… see how I am? Sheesh.) So it doesn’t matter what you play, or even how you play it. It doesn’t matter who you are, or where you are. What is important is that we gather and communicate. I’ve had my responses to the exploitation of our art form over the years, and they continue to evolve as deeply as my own contribution to the body of work has evolved. There is no eulogy, there is no final word. There really can’t be. We are alive, ever changing, ever growing, and hopefully always contributing to the main.

I wish you each a deep and loving period of reunion, reflection, love, and ease. I trust as this year of making room, this period of digestion and transition comes to a close that you light yourself on fire with who you are, and what you love. I wish you the terror of approaching your limits, and the wonder of soaring past them. I wish you the gratitude and relief of discovery, and all of the warm, beautiful blessing which dance around you all the time. I can see them in you. Thank you for reflecting them back for me too.

For today, I am a reluctant christmas tree. I open my eaves, and display my decorations humbly, bashfully, and hope that I bring more love into the world, reassurance, and maybe even delight.