When I was a kid I loved (and still love) Kung Fu movies. My grandfather was a 5th or 6th degree judo black belt and a golden gloves champ when he was younger. My uncle was in the military and into hand to hand, and my uncle and my mother both were taught by their father (my grandfather) in judo as well. So a good chunk of my childhood was being taught fighting and getting flipped around. Until I was about 8 or 9. Then my grandfather being the "Head of the Family" decreed that I wasn't allowed to learn anymore, because I was an angry kid and he thought I was going to roam the streets and kill somebody. So I had been taught discipline and dedication to an art that I was no longer allowed to practice. And more then anything I wanted to learn Kung Fu, but wasn't allowed to take lessons. Man I was pissed. Then I discovered guitar.
For whatever reason I just "got" guitar right away, maybe it's because I was young and my brain wasn't cluttered with life stuff yet and it was easy to just sponge up info about guitar and music. I realized I may not be able to turn my body into a weapon of destruction, but I could train my hands. So all the discipline and ideals I had I channeled and focused into just my hands. It's a viewpoint really. In Kung Fu you learn styles, shapes and patterns that you move your body in. You all have heard of it. The Tiger, The Dragon, The Snake, The Eagles Claw, The Crane, etc. I realized guitar was exactly the same. You're training your hands these patterns and shapes. The Blues Scale, The Minor Scale, The Major Scale, Modes, Arpeggios, Chords, etc. You're training your hands to be ready, fast, and adaptable to any situation. You're training your ears to be alert and hear when the group/song has changed keys, gone from minor to major, and your hands are there, in shape, ready to adapt to this new situation on the fly. Like a martial artist you're looking for the holes to fill, the weakness, the spot to change styles and whip out something unexpected. There are moments you don't have a guitar in your hands, but you're holding one in your mind. You're meditating on the art of guitar, and you're actually practicing it in your head. You're visually picturing a guitar, and practicing on it.
Years go by.
You realize other people are coming to you for lessons, other people consider you a "Master," but you're not. You still think you suck. The more you learn the more you realize there is to learn, and then you learn more, and the reality sinks in that you'll never, ever know all there is to learn. It's an endless journey, you will never be a Master and always be a student.
One day you realize you've dedicated your entire life to an art form. You've lost friends, family, moments that you can never have back because in your discipline you excluded them in pursuit of mastering the instrument. Your teen years are gone, your 20's are gone, friends and family is gone, and it's just you and your instrument. It can be lonely, but that's the price you pay for your dedication to this art form. One day you look at your guitar and you hate it, you despise what it's done to you and your life. You realize you're completely incapable of feeling complete or being able to express yourself unless you have this piece of wood in your hands. Your tongue feels clumsy and stupid while your fingers feel fleet and nimble. Your tongue speaks one language while your fingers speak many. You realize you're chained to the guitar, and it's chained to you. Neither one of you are complete without the other. You are ying and yang, the circle cannot be complete unless you are both joined.
Your friends go up, go to college, start a life, start a family, and you're still studying and practicing your art, because it's what you do, it's who you are, and after 20+ years you don't know how to be anything else. You wander around the country studying from other masters, and teaching others when you get the chance. You dream of opening up your own school one day where you can teach your own unique style, settle down, and maybe start a family.
There's no retirement plan, there's no insurance for you. You've given yourself to a thankless art really. Unless you're lucky enough to make it big and make a ton of money, there's really no money in it either. There's self satisfaction and the feeling of working towards a goal, but you know it's a goal you'll never really reach, because it's impossible to be "The One" and know and be able to do everything. Even if you know 10 styles intimately, you can't practice them all all the time, so 1 or 2 styles always suffer while you learn others. And it becomes a balancing act to juggle and stay proficient in all the styles, while still pursuing new ones.
Other people go to college for 4 years and get a sweet paying job. You "put yourself" through self imposed schooling for over 20 years and you still can't get a "real job." And other people will actually look down on you as being a loser, or a musician. Some people will even assume you must be a junkie or a drunk because why else would you play music for a living? It's a vicious circle, and non-musicians are pretty evil and don't understand. They're caught up in the rat race of working and getting more "stuff." You don't see the need to worry about "stuff" because you think, "I'm going to die one day anyway, and this is all just stuff, in the meantime there's more to be learned." The gap between you and "normal people" grows wider.
At the end of the day you've trained, you've studied, you've become everything (almost) you'd ever dreamed of as a kid. Everything you want to do, you can do. Other people respect your skills but it can be hard to respect yourself. When you see other people having a normal life, children, growing up and moving on, and you're still chained to the instrument that you'll probably be buried with, because it's such a part of you.
And then one night, deep in meditation it hits you. You HAVE become a Master. NOT because you're the greatest player, because you know you will never be the greatest player. You're a Master because you realize what all Masters before you have realized.
You've totally surrendered and given your entire life to an art form.
This is why we mourn Randy Rhoads, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Jimi Hendrix, Dimebag Darrell.
Because it's only after the Masters have left us, do we really appreciate them, does it really sink in that these people truly and totally gave themselves and their lives to the art.
That's when we truly miss them, and that's when we truly, truly wish we could thank them for giving their lives to advancing the art we love so much. That's when it really hits you that these people did not live a normal happy life, and in a way sacrificed themselves for us and our art.
So now I pose a serious question. How much do you truly love guitar? If the answer is, "not enough" then for gods sake, please live a normal, happy, healthy life and don't throw it away for an instrument that will not, can not, ever love you. Hug your children, tell your woman how much you love and appreciate her, grow old and die happy.
The secret to guitar, is that there is no secret. To be really good at comes at a high price, and it can be a price you don't realize you paid, until you've already paid it.
Peace my Axe slinging brothers.
-M-
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