the playground i find in music

I posted new music today. If you've been following my journey for a while, you'd know that I've often compared my music journey to my spiritual path and my quest for wellbeing.

Today, I wanted to share a bit about what it feels like on the inside to be releasing this new piece. If you want the full context, you might look back at my previous struggles - watching illusory rock star dreams crumble, feeling disconnected from my instruments, healing through the act of playing itself, then releasing new music and still feeling like I had something to prove.

A year ago, moving out of our downtown condo, I had concerns. Toronto, with its vibrant music scene, felt a world apart from a quiet rural life by the lake. I worried about missing out on inspiration. But with parenting and work taking up most of my time, there wasn't much time left for music anyway.

As we settled into our new place and discussed how to set up the house, I suggested one of the basement rooms as a potential jam space. I remember my wife was supportive and encouraging and I had this uncanny feeling like ‘wait a minute, this might not be so bad for my musical life’.

Over the months, I started setting up the space, adding instruments and microphones. At some point, I recognized I was habitually starting to build a studio. I actively resisted slipping back into the old production mindset. Instead, I wanted this space to be a musical playground, a haven of unfettered creativity.

This idea of a 'playground' became central. I started to work on playfulness in my meditation practice, too. And to evoke uninhibited creativity, I even put up a print of a Jackson Pollock painting to capture that feeling of expressing oneself with abandon, letting go of outcomes, and working for the sake of pure energetic creation.

My first year in the jam space was filled with experimentation. I learned how to play piano better. Dabbled in multitrack loops, and jammed with vocal effects. It was tons of fun, creating without any burden of expectation.

About a year into this, something shifted. Listening back to some raw loops, I stumbled upon a few tracks I genuinely loved. The old urge to produce crept in. I hesitated, fearing the return of past disappointments and the loneliness of creating yet another set of tracks that no one will listen to.

Taking a cautious approach, I began refining these tracks and kept a close watch on my ego, paying attention to the different ways it was creeping in: self-judgment, perfectionism, shame, and blame.

It's surreal to upload these 4 tracks today without expectations or the desire to turn them into products for a vast audience. I’ve grappled with this for decades, and now, I simply share, savour the warmth of a few positive comments, and look forward to creating more. Feels good, man.

Making my jam space a ‘playground’ was a great idea, but the moratorium I placed on actually producing something kind of ignored the fact that production itself can be a playground, too. As with everything, less ego brings more fulfillment. It’s a harder needle to thread, but I have learned that it is possible.

I put something online, probably 10 people are going to listen to it, but with music as my mirror, I see dramatic progress in how today feels on the inside. Maybe I’m just getting older, maybe it’s my growing meditation practice, or maybe it is related to being out of the city. Maybe all three?

This feels like the most successful release in my entire musical history because there’s a complete lack of suffering. I’m getting all the social connection I need from one or two kind words from family and friends, leaving it at that, and feeling excited about making more without it becoming an ego obsession. Instead, I let the entire process be a pure act of play.