Where My Headwaters Run
This is Peak Lake. This is the Wind River Range. This is Wyoming. This is where it begins. It is the Green River, the main stem of the Colorado. This is where snow melt streams become the water course that carved the Grand Canyon. and so much of the landscape in between.
We all have our own headwaters. Things that carve us and make us what we are. For some it is family and a rooted sense of place. For some it is a wandering, restless pursuit. For some it is a spiritual journey that leads to another world. It is our job to understand this relationship. To seek out what it is that makes us. Some do it with books. Others with the internet and photographs. Some seek in churches. For me, it’s a map, a van, a notebook, and a guitar.
I fear that too many people don’t seek out their own headwaters. We forget to look for the source. The Source. We get lazy. We live Thoreau’s maligned lives of quiet desperation. We forget to listen to our own lives, dreams, and yearnings.
These are the things that inspire me to write songs. I have just finished a new album that describes the journey I have seen from the road, living as a nomad, and the people I’ve met and stories we’ve shared along the way. I am very inspired by people who are seeking out their own headwaters and a new version of the American dream.
That is just my story. Now I want to hear yours.