In It For The Long Haul

You approach life differently when you’re in it for the long haul. And by in it for the long haul, I mean you are willing to endure hardship or loss because the end result is worth it. 

When I first started the studio, I thought that it’d be a year, two tops, before John Mayer and I were working on his newest album. It may come as no surprise that I was frustrated when, three years later, studio work still wasn’t enough to be a full-time job. Everything sent me into a tail spin. When someone chose to go to Nashville instead of working with me in Jackson, I’d write them off as dead. I’m ridiculous. But that all changed when I started thinking of this as a lifelong career, as something that I had the privilege of doing over the long haul. 

Now I’m much happier in slow and steady growth. It’s better this way. When you grow slow, it gives you time to adjust and implement systems and strategies to be able to handle that growth. A few years ago, if I worked on as many projects as I do now, it all would have fallen apart. I wasn’t mature enough at that point in my journey to handle successes. Success would have crippled me. 

Being in it for the long haul also allows you to dream bigger. At year one, or even year two, my agenda was all about me and what I wanted for myself. Now, it’s bigger than that. The goal is to see that Mississippians have the opportunity to make world-class recordings here in our state. I’m not saying that artists should never record in big music cities, but I want a record made here to compete on that level. That’s bigger than me. 

Oddly enough, looking at this over the long haul allows me to be much more content. I don’t feel as anxious about potential projects falling through or a bad six-month stretch. It’s just part of it. In thinking long term, I’m reminded that short-term pain is just building up my muscles and strengthening my resolve. 

But it’s hard to enjoy these benefits if you haven’t committed yourself to the long haul. That’s probably the scariest part. When you do commit, when you say, “I’m going to spend the next five or fifty years doing something,” it gets scary. What if you’re wrong? What if no one gives a crap about what you commit to seeing done? I think I could easily spend the rest of my life working on this long-haul vision. 

It’s also a discipline to look at something over the long haul. No one wants to do that today. Myself included. We want quick fixes, quick results, and quick changes, but that’s not how this works. Anything worth spending our short life on, requires our short life. Grand visions and big goals take time. I encourage you to make a commitment to be in it for the long haul. Not half way in it for a long period of time, and not all the way in for a short period of time. Yet, truly committing to making your dreams a reality. I’m in it for the long haul, are you?