Friday, November 6, 2026 | Nashville, Tennessee

Friday began with work at a café in Germantown, including an advisory board meeting that kept me busy until two. Not quite the plan for this trip, but I was happy to be involved, and the weekend was ahead of me.

There was also a brief moment of panic. I returned to my motel to find everything gone—even my new guitar and my plant. For a minute, I thought I had been robbed. It turned out I had missed renewing the room, and the staff had moved my belongings. Everything was safe. Quite a scare, though, especially after what happened to my Córdoba.

It made me think about how much more aware I am, with age, of everything that can go wrong. I notice it when I’m cycling around a new city or choosing somewhere to stay. But that awareness isn’t stopping me from doing things. I’m still out here, making choices and finding my way.

The Country Music Hall of Fame offered a journey through country music history, and I picked up a poster of Johnny Cash performing in Minneapolis—a little connection to home.

But the big moment came that evening. After several days listening to other people’s music, I knew I couldn’t leave Nashville without sharing some of my own. So I signed up for a songwriter round at the Commodore. Ten o’clock. Plenty of time to get nervous.

And then it went so well.

I sat alongside three other singer-songwriters and played “Johnny’s Bail,” “Guarda su,” and “Say Hello.” The feedback was warm, and by the last song people were joining in and chanting along. I felt comfortable. I felt proud of what I did and how I did it. I was exactly where I wanted to be.

Watch a moment from my Commodore performance on Instagram

I chatted with a couple of songwriters afterward and went back to the motel happy. Sometimes I wonder whether I spend too much of this journey in my own world, observing. Tonight, I stepped out and shared something.

That’s something life keeps teaching me: sometimes you just have to do it. You break the ice, and see what happens.