Life lessons from an old guitar

I thought I could afford $5, but it only cost me two, so I took it home, smiling wryly and wondering just what sort of an adventure this would be.  I'm not musical, at least that's what I've always thought and believed, so what was I doing with an old guitar?  I found it sitting forlornly in a corner at a flea market and the lady was only too happy to be rid of it.  I know nothing of guitars, period.  I could tell it was missing a couple strings, but that is the extent of my knowledge of stringed instruments of any sort.  With the help of the internet, I discovered it was a mass produced but popular instrument from the middle of the last century without much value, but if I could make it functional it would be adequate to learn on.  Also with the help of the internet (there is strangely little information on this particular instrument for some reason, I can't imagine why, didn't they have google in 1963?) I discovered it is missing a bridge, but as its design is nothing like any other guitar, ancient or modern, it will be rather difficult to replace the piece, at least if I don't want to spend $50 on ebay for the original, which is quite a bit for a $2 guitar.  I found something on amazon designed for a jazz guitar, but it will hopefully suffice and it was only $4, thereby tripling the value of my find, if only it will be functional.  Now I know more about guitars than I ever thought possible, and I still don't have a clue how to play one.

How often do we stumble into these little side quests and adventures?  We find little bits of joy and interest strewn about like leaves in the autumn.  I really don't want to learn how to play the guitar, but neither did I want to take up piano or get up front and sing, but I just sort of stumbled into it, when there was no other choice, and next thing I know, I'm loving it and finding, much to my horror, that I may be just a tad bit musical.  But sometimes we get so busy, we don't have time or energy or focus to see these little gems when they crop up in our lives.  We'll get to it 'later,' but later never comes and eventually it is forgotten, if it is ever seen at all.  But it is these little adventures that lend all the color and interest to life: the darts that make the garment more than a shapeless bag.  It isn't that we need to be good at it or spend a ton of money or time on something, but rather just to try things, learn things, view life from another perspective, that is what living means: ever curious, ever discovering, eyes full of wonder and interest.  Otherwise we merely exist.