Looking For A Campfire
Lately I’ve found myself restless, wondering if songwriting is enough.
Not because I’ve run out of songs. I still intend to continue writing them. But I have this nagging feeling that maybe there’s something else I should be doing—something that will scratch that itch. Photography? Writing? Learning something new? I haven’t been able to put my finger on it.
As I thought about it, I realized the question wasn’t really about hobbies at all.
It was about connection.
People talk a lot about building an audience. I’m not interested in an “audience” per se. Audiences applaud. Audiences scroll. Audiences move on to the next thing.
What I miss is something much smaller.
Back in high school, I had a few close friends. We’d sometimes just sit and talk for hours about music, life, faith, girls, dreams—whatever happened to be on our minds that day. We weren’t trying to impress each other. We were simply known.
The word is communion, and it’s not just something you get once a month in church.
That’s what I miss.
Not fame. Not thousands of followers. Not viral videos. I’ve never had those and I’ve come to realize chasing them is pointless. For me, anyway, those are empty calories. They wouldn’t satisfy.
What I miss is that small circle of people who hear a song or read something I’ve written and quietly say, “Yeah… I know exactly what you mean.”
I’ve never cared very much about metrics. Sure, it’s encouraging when a song gets a couple hundred listens overnight or a video gets more views than usual, but not because of the number itself. The number only hints at a possibility—that maybe someone out there connected with what I was trying to say.
Maybe that’s why I keep writing.
Songs. Essays. Photos. Whatever form it takes, I’m really trying to do the same thing I’ve always done: notice something worth sharing and hope it finds someone who was looking for it too.
Maybe that’s all any of us are doing.
Not trying to build a stage.
Just looking for another campfire.