Changing the strings

Last night, I changed the strings on my guitar.

A fresh set of strings does a lot for a guitar… Its tone becomes a little more lively. Its strings move a little easier. Its like a whole new life beneath your fingers. Or there are times you try some new strings that just don’t pair well with a guitar. It’s tone becomes dull or harsh. The strings grab your fingers or buzz on the frets.

I’d been putting off the string change. Its the first time I’ve changed them since we lost Maggie. She was my helper when it came time to do that job — and at the exact moment I extracted the last old string, she’d pop mysteriously from around the corner and have a seat in the guitar. I’ll miss that.

At some point, we all look for a reset switch — a way to change our own strings. Focusing on work. Playing with race cars. Racing bicycles. Riding motorcycles. Religion. Pets. Food. Drink. Drugs. But our brains don’t refresh the way guitars do. What we do shapes us. It adds character. It adds flavor. Or it can dull.

We have to be careful in our quest for the elusive reset. Wise choices result in being well rested and having a sharp mind. Poor choices slowly erode your very soul.

This set of strings plays pretty well. I think I’ll stick with them for a while.

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