Strumming in the Kitchen

How's this for a slightly bizaare situation.

I'm getting my ex husband to teach me the guitar! Well, that's the theory, anyway. Seeing as I'm pretty musically inept, and only learnt the piano for 2 years (which at my slow pace was pretty unimpressive), this will be a test at patience. But I have a couple of basic chords down, and I want to learn more. Without a regular income though, I can't really go to a "proper" teacher, so I've asked him.

He is a very good guitarist. A natural musician. In fact, so are his friends that he grew up with, as well. There's a group of them, four of them, that grew up together through some pretty rough stuff. And even though they don't see each other all that regularly now, when they do, they are still big kids again. More than that. My ex regards them his brothers more than he does his biological brothers. Anyway, whenever we'd go to a party, everyone in the room would pick up instruments and microphones and jam the night away. And then there would be me. Can't play. Can't sing. Shy and hate being looked at. I so very much wanted to be like them, but by this stage I knew I wasn't ever going to be. Noone ever said anything cruel, but when you're reserved, you can't expect people to go out of their way to get to know you.

It is the one thing I do miss from my marriage. Having music in the house. Live music. Impromptu music. Don't get me wrong, there were days when I wanted to do serious injury with that beautiful acoustic. And the music betrayed my ex when he fell in love with another woman. But for the most part, it was a magical thing. Us sitting in the kitchen, singing together over hot black coffees. And when I left, I asked for one of the guitars. It was the only thing from him I asked for. The only thing that meant something to me. And of course, he wouldn't deny me that.

So now I can strum a few chords, but nothing more than that, and I am frustrated with my inability to move beyond that. My ex ... should we call him Paul ... Paul (and that might change if I forget what I decided to call him today) Paul has asked me to find a song I would like to learn. One that I can sing. He is the only person I have ever sung in front of, and I found it incredibly difficult even with him. I've chosen one by Paul Weller called "Country". It is probably going to be too difficult, but it is so beautiful and I can listen to it looped for hours and not get bored hearing it. So it is my choice. And the words speak a little of the hope I have for my future. A belief that I will care for someone again, some day. Can I indulge myself ... well it's my blog I suppose, it's all self-indulgent.

Country

I know a place not far from here
Where life's sweet perfume fills the air
And if you want I'll take you there
If you want I'll take you there

Into the light out of the dark
Where only love can heal your heart
And if you want I'll make a start
If you want I'll make a start

This place I say, half hour away
Is that so far to go so near
And further on, we'll find the time
And lose the discontent we feel
That we feel

I feel the time we've yet to reach
Is not yet within our own belief
But I feel sure that time will come
If it goes on and on
(if it goes on and on)
(if it goes on and on)
(yeah if it goes on and on and on and on)

I know a place not far from here
Where fresh cut grass will fill your hair
And if you want, we'll lay a while there
If you want, we'll lay a while there
If you want, we'll lay a while there

The line "Is not yet within our own belief" struck such a chord... the idea of not yet being ready for things, but having faith that they will, nonetheless, come to you.

Tonight, I have faith.