Charlie Spieker Photography
I must admit, I'm a liar. I hope to be forgiven as I wasn't even aware of it. Don't get me wrong. There have been many instances where I've lied on purpose, but I feel those particular circumstances called for it.
If it's to protect someone's feelings, I'll hand out a white lie. If I feel that the truth needs to be delivered from elsewhere, I'll lie by omission. However, that all goes out the window when "tough love" is called upon. I use the best judgment I have.
That being said, I'm talking about a different type of lie. It's one I've been telling myself for a long time. At first, I was following sound advice. "Knowing your limits" is something I've practiced and preached for many years.
Experts say setting boundaries and targeting realistic goals is key towards success. It seems counterintuitive, but it's true. I wanted to do everything as an adolescent, but spreading myself too thin kept me from accomplishing anything at all. I funneled my aspirations into three things: Study the accordion, start a conjunto band, and tour Texas. Sounds simple enough, but things didn't quite shake out like I had hoped.
I learned multiple instruments. I played all kinds of musical genres. My touring extended past Texas into many parts of the world. Grammy nominations, movies, radio, podcasts; whether by being the talent or part of the production, I've been associated with all of these things.
So much for my simple plan. You could say I'm a failure in a sense. I don't know if I failed at keeping in my lane, or failed to see that the limits I put on myself were far too strict. Regardless, it seems I've been lying to myself for a very long time. I was capable of doing more from the start, even when I didn't see it initially.
The bigger question is, "Where do I go from here?" To be honest, I like the path I'm on and want to stay the course. I get to play stages. I have my side projects. My heart is full. It's clear to me that failing is one of the best things I've ever done, and that's no lie.