In 2021, I found myself circling around a riff on my acoustic guitar—a gentle melody that seemed to hold something just out of reach. It had a haunting simplicity, one of those sequences you can play a thousand times and still feel like you’re only scratching the surface of what it could be. It had been ages since I’d written a slower song, and though the melody called for that softer, introspective feel, I was at a loss for what the lyrics should say.
Around that time, I’d been wrestling with my own sense of aging. The idea of growing older can creep up on you quietly or hit you all at once, and for me, it felt like a little of both. I was on the brink of turning 50, which felt monumental, like a distinct fork in the road. It was as if the world had shifted, leaving me somewhere between who I once was and who I was now. Though I still felt young in my head, reality had other plans—a true “Cat’s in the Cradle” moment if there ever was one. And I guess that’s what finally steered me toward making this song more personal than my usual work.
The song itself became a reflection of that turning point. Life, after all, moves in stages, each one marked by lessons learned, dreams altered, and moments savored or lost. I wanted the lyrics to capture that journey, that natural evolution. So, as the verses progress, the language shifts. Early on, I use phrases like “ain’t” to carry that youthful, untamed spirit. But as the song goes on, the language becomes more polished, reflecting a “grown-up” perspective. I crafted the lyrics intentionally this way, trying to mimic the transition we all go through, balancing youth and wisdom. And in terms of the sound, I leaned into the rock ballad vibe I grew up with—those sweeping, emotional anthems from the ’80s like “Every Rose Has Its Thorn,” “Heaven,” and “I Remember You.” These songs knew how to capture emotion in a raw, unapologetic way, and I wanted to channel that same feeling here.
The place where it all started coming together wasn’t in a studio or some buzzing city café, but out on a dock at my friend’s cottage. There’s something almost otherworldly about that place—the quiet lull of water, the soft sway of trees, the steady rhythm of nature itself. It’s one of the few places where I can let my mind settle, where I can just focus and listen to what’s stirring inside. At the time, it felt like the weight of everything I’d been feeling finally had space to breathe. I remember sitting down with my notebook, intending to start the song right there. But instead, what came out was more like a journal entry, raw and unfiltered, talking through everything that had been building up. It was as if the song didn’t need to be written yet; I needed to just get honest with myself first.
Whenever I sit down to journal, though, I find that I eventually drift toward lyrics. My journal is filled with fragments of thoughts, lines, and ideas for lyrics, all scribbled down like a mosaic of what I was feeling at any given moment. At that time, though, I was facing a creative block, the kind that forces you to confront things you’ve been pushing aside. I carried that journal around for months, jotting down snippets and half-formed thoughts about where I was in life, who I was becoming, and who I wanted to be. I'd like to say the song flowed out effortlessly, but in reality, I had to work through a lot to get there.
It was probably three or four months before I returned to that journal with a clearer head, ready to see what I’d captured during that time. Flipping through those pages, I realized that most of the song had already been written. Without even knowing it, I’d captured the verses in those moments of reflection. All I needed now was a chorus, something to tie it all together. And once I pieced the verses together, the chorus just fell into place, as if it had been waiting all along. I can’t even recall the exact moment I wrote it; it just happened naturally, as if the song had already been there, waiting for me to catch up.
Recording it was another memorable experience. I felt a deep connection to this song—it was simple, gentle, and somehow had an honest heart to it. Looking back, I realize it’s more than just a song; it’s a snapshot of a moment, a reflection of the journey we all take as we navigate the changing seasons of life. And for me, it was about coming to terms with where I was, who I’d been, and where I might be heading next.