So I'm playing a little guitar with Dan the other evening, and we're aiming to dervish our way through "Blackberry Blossom" when I keep seeming to hit the wrong chord every time I went to play a C.
What the hell? Did I suddenly go terminally out of tune? Did I hit a peg and not realize it?
I kept going, thinking the problem must be on the fretting end, and in the dim candlelight I'm twisting the guitar and my body the way one does when you're trying to see what the fingers on the left hand are doing. Still couldn't see very well, so I called for a time out and simply tried the G-C-G-C transition a couple times.
Finally figured out that a confused index finger was going to the wrong location.
Seriously? My fine muscle memory spaced how to play a C chord? How long have I been playing C? Isn't this something that should work completely on auto-pilot?
Guess not.
So I did what I guess kind of amounts to a guitar version of a hard reset on the C chord, and everything went pretty smoothly after that.
(Well, except for trying to play "Blackberry Blossom" along with a Tony Rice version on my iTunes. That was just funny.)
Anyway, that happened a couple of days ago now, and the memory is still tapping at my consciousness. And it has me take pause this morning to think about how many aspects of my going about life operate on something like autopilot, and whether any of those might be a bit out of tune (so to speak). Maybe I'm not even aware of it, given how the thrum of everyday existence can be so cacophonous, I don't even hear my own contribution through the din. But even if my addition is small, it is something. Wouldn't it be well to be more mindful of even its small components, and make my existence ring as true and harmoniously as possible?
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