Selling My Guitar, Part 3 (I let it rain, I clear it out)

I've sold the Guild, it's gone.

One part of me is dancin',  another is still releasing ancient distress at a cellular level, another part has moved on and is living in this moment....

The new owner, V, rented a car and drove 5 hours to claim his eBay prize.  In fact, not long after the auction ended, he was on the road.  I am glad he was so excited.  He called and said, "I have cash, is that okay."  

So, I waited for V to arrive.

I was aware of feeling tense and snappish, and waiting, waiting, waiting.

What if he didn't like it?  What if he felt he had been mislead?  What if, on the long trip East, he experienced a change of heart?  What if, on the long trip East, I experienced a change of heart?  What if he mugged me and ran off with both the Guild and the cash? Would my dog protect me?  Would anyone hear me yell for help?  Would I see my family again?  What was I wearing, in case I had to go to the hospital....

On and On and On. 

Okay, maybe you can see how my little mind spun one story line after another.  There were some really wild scenerios.  This is what our minds are so good at doing, providing a running commentary on all we experience and sense and emote. 

Hopefully, when we experience the spinning of the story, we can be mindful about its presence and power--oftentimes noting the activity is all it takes to disarm it.

When V finally arrived, I noticed that he was as tense as I was.  His body language was stiff and hesitant (okay, he HAD just been in the car for 5+ hours...).  I invited him in and before he even saw the Guild, he handed me the bank envelope and said, "It's all there." Somehow it felt like a sleazy drug deal in a back alley.  I put the envelope on the table without opening it, knelt down beside the guitar case to open it.  

Now would be a good time to get mugged, but no, nothing crashing on my head.

I opened the case and stood back, thinking he might take the guitar out and play it, but V just stood there silently, a little frozen.

Finally I said, "Do you want to play it?"

I gave him the guitar, thinking he would immediately whip into "Stairway To Heaven" or "Blackbird", but all V could do was struggle a little to find D, then strum hesitantly.

Was it possible he was a beginner?

Was it possible he didn't really know how to play?  That this would be his first guitar?

I watched his fingers and thought, he must be fooling me....he must be pretending to be a beginner.  And damn it, this guitar is too good for a beginner if he is!

Whoa.

Stories, judgements, didactic ego strutting, mis-trust, pity, doubt, disgust, hope, laughter--all of it and more in a mere 5 minute interaction.

V left soon after packing up the Guild, saying very little and stepping into the night.  I thought I might see what sort of rental car he was driving, and watch the Guild leave, but then checked myself and closed the door.

I took my little bank envelope of cash and counted it out.  I hadn't been cheated after all.  I sat down and sort of threw the cash on the table and thought, what is this?  It's nothing but a symbol of an agreement and I don't care.

Later, the next day, I did care. But that evening, it was all very anti climactic.  

Before going to bed, I found my original receipt for the Guild.  The date of the purchase, September 1, 1990.  

18 years, plus one day....I sold the Guild.

A beautiful place to practice.