Family and faith

(Photo of Canterbury, England. Where I could be going next year, but am not.)

Today (Three days have past and I still have not finished this blog) was my grandfather's very Catholic memorial service. It had been since Christmas Eve since I had been to A church of ANY kind, let alone mass. I was surprised at how much I remembered, and even more surprised at what I forgot. I do not consider myself a Christian, but being back in there wasn't as bad as I would have thought. Although I didn't hate it, I knew I did not belong. It wasn't a contemporary service, which is probably why I survived so well: the older traditions don't scare me as these new fangled "put your hands in the air and praise Jesus" things. But knowing there were so many people in a room, paying their respects to a great man, in the practice he had followed for so long, was riveting. 

My family. I looked around at us all in the pews, and there we were: Grandma-ma, the seven children, now all grown, and the seven grandchildren. Seven really is a lucky number. We are so great. Every person brings something to the table. 

One person who is quite new to our bunch is Mike (Insert last name, cause I forgot it), my godmother's current boyfriend. He definitely had a rough start with the family, but I had a heart to heart (guitar in my hand, and a cowboy hat on his head) with him, and really like him. Our talk started with the friendly small talk about how I never stop playing, and it led into his buddhist lifestyle. I have been researching buddhist practices, and culture so his conversation was really nice. 

Rethinking conversations I've had, and... I don't know how I fell about them. All I know is people should be who they really are, no matter what people think. I've always said people need to be themselves, and not regret anything, and I've not been doing my best at that.

And that leads into something else. My music. It's always a constant thought in the back of my mind, since I was little that I don't love playing as much as I make it out to be. And my music now... Is it any different? Is there any passion behind the progress I've made? I love playing, I love singing, but do I really want an EP? Do I really care as much as I make out to be? Or is just to impress people? People seem so excited when you say, "Oh yeah, I'm recording... I have a show such a such at blah blah blah... EP this and EP that" But is that me? Or is that someone I've made for myself? I'd love playing with other artists. On the stage, off the stage, but my music, not so much. I love playing for me, but not for others. So why am I about to spend almost 1500 that will not really make ME happy? What would make ME happy is to save part of that, go spend some on art supplies, get back to my art, and spend the rest on a much needed trip to Silver Dollar City. I need help.