The Heights – An Xperience Column

The Heights – An Xperience Column – by Joe Barna.

Hello …Yeah, it’s been a while… Not much … How bout you?”

This famous line from a song called “I’d Really Like To See You Tonight” by England Dan & John Ford Coley resonates with my soul now more than ever. Why? Because it has been exactly one full year since I last found the inspiration and motivation to share my perspectives with all of you who support this fantastic offering known as Xperience Monthly. It has been a while, and I miss you. I’ve certainly had some experiences this past year (pun intended). So, if you’re up for a little journey, then hop in and buckle up.

In 2023 my career had taken off like never before, or so I had thought. The gigs were rolling in, I started making more of an impact on the local scene and it felt like I didn’t ever have nights off. My calendar was soaked with all the ink it had absorbed from writing in the names of the venues I was performing in, the names of the musicians on each performance, and more. Life was starting to shape itself into the majestic structure I had always wished it to become. Much like the Jeffersons, I thought I was “Movin’ On Up.”

But wait … what’s that? What is this strange feeling I’m having? Why does everything feel so wrong? Why does it feel like my body, mind, and spirit are being crushed under the weight of a thousand bags of sand? Well, here’s another line you might remember … ”Hello Darkness, My Old Friend.” This comes from a song by Simon & Garfunkel called “The Sound of Silence.” I’m not sure how they meant it, but this is how I am relating it to my own situation.

Come along …

When I think of my own darkness, I connect it to the unresolved or unaddressed circumstances to which I have been subjected. This could stem from my own poor decisions, neglecting to give attention to important aspects of my personal life, as well as musical life, engaging with outside influences that distract me from reaching my goals, not taking care of my physical well-being, not letting go of the past, not refueling my spirit through prayer or meditation, and overall simply exhausting myself to a point where I have little to nothing left to give. My darkness comes from immersing myself so deeply into my career that it begins to define me. When this happens, the stress of having to live up to the image I’ve created can lead to a road that rapes me of my happiness, creativity, empathy, joy, motivation, friendships, sleep, kindness, and emotional well-being. It’s not a place I recommend visiting.

So, how did this happen?

It was March of 2024, and I was just coming off my most successful year as a full-time artist. I found myself a part of over 200 gigs, was surrounded by crowds of people, and believed I was well on my way to blossoming into the musician I had always dreamed of becoming. But on the 7th of that month, I woke up uninspired, exhausted, bitter, complacent, confused, and to some degree sad. It was a feeling unlike any I had ever experienced. The idea of packing up for a gig, loading the car, driving to the venue, playing all night, and then having to drive back home felt like a mountain of a task that I was unwilling to participate in. What on earth was going on inside of me?

You see, when you attempt to define yourself by what you do rather than who you are as a human being you can get lost inside your own mind. It’s a lonely feeling that can strip the satisfaction away from that which otherwise would afford you extreme pleasure. Nothing feels good and nothing feels right. You’ve worked so hard at something, one thing, that you’re left empty and without purpose. You thought your purpose was the music, but you are faced with the reality that music is simply just another part of you. There are layers to us all that go deeper than our eyes can recognize. We are sons, daughters, moms, dads, teachers, mentors, spirits, learners, writers, enthusiasts, thinkers, and much more. To allow one aspect of ourselves to dictate what we are or what we are not is a disservice to the creator. We are born into many identities and purposes. None of us are mistakes, although we will make many. None of us are accidents, although we may find ourselves as part of one. None of us are the career we choose, although our career may be a huge part of what drives and motivates us.

I allowed life to slip away from me. My health suffered, my relationships suffered, my sleep suffered, my tolerance suffered, my passion for life suffered, my self-worth suffered, and more. If ever there was an example of burnout, it was inside me.

In April of 2024, I walked away from nearly all my gigs, bands, writing for Xperience, sold much of my gear, and started contemplating what was next on the horizon. In June of that year, I decided I’d attempt to fulfill a goal that I had always wanted to achieve. Although I was burned out and not fully inspired I decided to try one last time to get out there and play my music with my own band. So, I booked a month-long tour through New York, Ohio, Tennessee and back again. I thought possibly what was contributing to my burnout was being in the same place for too long. Maybe by getting away for a while and playing in new venues, I could obtain that inspiration, enthusiasm, and motivation I had lost. But, NOPE … it just made things worse. I quickly realized I was not up to the task. In under one week, I felt imposter syndrome begin to set in. I felt like a shell of myself musically. Like a fraud who was undeserving of the stages I was being afforded the opportunities to perform on. The rest of the band was playing on a much higher level than I could accommodate and I felt unworthy. This was the final nail in the coffin that eventually led me to take the largest break my career had experienced in 30 years. It was time to step away.

So, where are things now?

After some healthy soul searching and coming to terms with the reality that maybe I wasn’t living up to the potential I had been given in this life, I set forth a plan to become more in balance with all that existed around me. I’ve taken on a new job as a full-time ISS substitute teacher at a local school, have gone back to the gym, and have a daily practice routine that is helping to break down many of the musical barriers that previously seemed insurmountable. I’m loving the experience of bearing witness to my beautiful daughter coming into her own and am once again finding the joy in the process of bringing music to the world without allowing it to define me.

I’d like to dedicate this month’s return to Xperience Monthly to Chris Garabedian (drummer/pastor/father/friend/mentor/husband and more). Your love, support, encouragement, kindness, friendship, generosity, and spirit came to me at a time when I was most vulnerable. You have shown me the power of prayer, the joy in the unknown, and the peace to walk forward knowing that all things will be as they should, in good times and in tough times. Had you not contacted me when you did, who knows where this broken shell of a man would have ended up? I love you.

For those who have taken the time to read this testimony …

Thank you … it’s not easy to open up in a format such as this. But, you never know who needs to hear a story such as this. Chris Garabedian stopped by my life unexpectedly and saved me. Maybe hearing what I had to walk through can do the same for someone else.

Warmest regards,

Joe

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