The heavy lifting

Okay, so this is the way it is, this is what happened...

What, farmboy, what?

Oh, nothing. I just wanted to start our conversation kinda the same way Ira Glass starts his show. You know, kind of conversational.

And here we are having a conversation! How about that?

Full fuckin' circle, man! It's like Zen or something, you know, man?

So what's up?

Not much. Working on the CD. Practicing. Played Saturday night at the coffeehouse. I didn't forget any words, I was okay. I mean, I didn't totally embarrass myself, you know, it was just partial self-embarrassment.

Boy, you know, I really want to get comfortable with performing once again. I used to really love it, and I still do when my fuckin' nerves and doubts aren't getting the better of me. I hate being afraid to perform. I especially hate all the fuckin' self-doubt: What if I forget the words? What if I fall? What if I can't get my guitar in tune?

What if, what if, what if...

It's fucked, man. It's fuckin' self-sabotage. It's completely useless as far as I can see. But I don't know how to get out of it.

Are you still seeing a counselor, farmboy?

No, but, fuck, I'd like to see one again. I've been thinking that's what I need. Even if it's just a couple times a month.

I think that's a good idea, farmboy.

Yeah, I think I'll look into it. I could discuss this self-sabotage thing. It's in other areas besides performing, man. I may wait till after the holidays, though.

That's fine.

I'm glad I talk to you, man. I feel like I figured something out with your help.

Nah, farmboy. You're the one doing the heavy lifting.

Still, man, thanks.