During the first week of January, the music business it still largely on vacation, with maybe a few go-getters organizing their tragically gifted holiday socks. So, rather than heading back to Nashville and subjecting myself to hot chicken temptation, I’m back on the Big Island. All these years of touring have taught me to take advantage of what’s in front of me, and any opportunity to spend more time with my folks I’ll happily seize.
If there’s a major take away from 2018, it’s letting go of idealized outcomes. I’m all about doubling down on what I can control - not being a lazy bastard being chief among them - but above and beyond that I’m content with getting out of the way. It helps that I’m writing this surrounded by perennial things - waves crashing, palm fronds rustling, and humpback whales breaching in the distance, blissfully unaware of mercurial, humanoid trappings.
In this moment, I’m content with whatever river card’s dealt. I had a life before the Allen Stone world took off, a happy one, and I’m acutely aware of having already, in many respects, won the lottery in this business. Better, I think, to focus on treating people right, going about this crazy profession ethically and with intention, and leaving the door ajar for fresh inspiration.