The Saturday Morning That Reminded Me Why GuitarMomo Exists
This is about showing up for the people and passions that matter.
This past Saturday morning, I found myself sitting on the sidelines of a soccer field watching my grandson attend his very first soccer practice.
He’s only a year and a half old.
I know.
Calling it “soccer practice” might be giving it a little too much credit. There was more wandering than dribbling, more chasing towards the playground area than chasing soccer balls, and every few minutes someone would become completely fascinated by a patch of grass. It was absolutely perfect.
As I watched him wobble across the field with a smile that suggested he had already won the World Cup, I couldn’t help but travel backward in time.
Suddenly, I wasn’t watching my grandson anymore.
I was remembering my own children.
There were countless Saturday mornings spent loading equipment into the car before sunrise, grabbing breakfast on the way, and driving from one field, gymnasium, or tournament to another. Baseball. Football. Soccer. Judo. Softball. Wrestling. I’m sure there were a few others mixed in somewhere because, after enough weekends, they all begin blending together into one long season of family memories.
Those years were busy.
There were schedules to manage, uniforms to wash, snacks to pack, and endless miles driven with sports bags rolling around in the back seat.
At the time, it often felt exhausting.
Today, it feels priceless.
People sometimes ask whether I regret stepping away from the guitar during those years. The honest answer is no. Certainly, I practiced less than I would have liked. I wasn’t learning new techniques every week, and there were long stretches where my guitar spent more time in its case than in my hands.
But here’s the thing.
I wasn’t in a touring band.
I wasn’t chasing a recording contract.
I was raising a family.
Looking back now, I wouldn’t trade those years for anything.
The guitar waited for me.
My children wouldn’t have stayed little forever.
That realization has become even more meaningful now that I’m watching a new generation begin making memories of their own. Standing on that soccer field reminded me that life isn’t simply measured by the things we accomplish. It’s measured by the moments we choose to be fully present.
As I stood there watching organized chaos unfold, my mind wandered, as it often does, to something I’ve been thinking a great deal about lately: prompts.
I love prompts because they have a way of interrupting our autopilot. A simple question often reveals something we’ve been too busy to notice. They’re not about finding the perfect answer. They’re about slowing down long enough to ask better questions.
Over the past few months, I’ve found myself reflecting on questions like these:
❤️ Relationships & Connection
Who brings out the best in me?
Who haven’t I checked in with lately?
How can I become more present with the people I love?
When did I last express genuine gratitude?
What relationship deserves more of my attention?
Those questions matter because relationships don’t grow through good intentions. They grow through attention.
Then another thought crossed my mind.
If I’m willing to ask those questions about the people I love, shouldn’t I ask similar questions about GuitarMomo?
After all, this publication isn’t simply a collection of articles.
It isn’t a subscriber count.
It isn’t an email list.
It’s people.
Real people.
People who carve out time after work to practice guitar.
People balancing careers, families, responsibilities, and countless distractions while trying to hold onto a passion that has followed them for years.
People who love six strings as much as they love becoming better versions of themselves.
That realization changed my perspective.
As the person behind GuitarMomo, I have a responsibility that extends far beyond writing another article each week. I want to create something that genuinely helps you think differently about your musical journey. I want every lesson, challenge, story, and practice guide to feel like it was written for someone sitting across the table from me, coffee in hand, talking about music and life.
Because that’s what this community deserves.
So I started writing prompts for you.
Not because there’s a test at the end.
Not because there’s one correct answer.
But because the right question often changes the way we approach the guitar.
🌱 Getting Started
Why did I first pick up the guitar?
What keeps me coming back to practice?
What kind of guitarist do I hope to become?
What excites me most about learning?
If I could master one skill this year, what would it be?
🎯 Practice & Progress
What did I genuinely improve this week?
What challenged me the most during practice?
Which technique deserves my complete attention?
Am I practicing with intention, or simply replaying what I already know?
What’s one small improvement I’m proud of today?
🎨 Creativity
What melody has been living in my head lately?
What emotion do I want my guitar to communicate?
What happens if I limit myself to only three notes?
How would I reinvent one of my favorite songs?
What might I discover if I stopped worrying about making mistakes?
I believe these questions matter because the guitar isn’t just about building technique. It’s about building awareness. The better we understand why we play, the more meaningful every practice session becomes.
As I watched my grandson chase a soccer ball that seemed determined to roll in every direction except the goal, I realized something beautiful.
One day, he probably won’t remember that Saturday morning.
I will.
Just as I’ll always remember watching my own children play, compete, learn, fail, laugh, and grow.
Life has a remarkable way of reminding us what truly matters.
Sometimes it’s a guitar.
Sometimes it’s a soccer field.
Sometimes it’s simply asking ourselves a better question.
My hope is that GuitarMomo becomes more than a place where you learn scales, chords, or songs. I hope it becomes a place that encourages you to think, reflect, grow, and rediscover why you fell in love with music in the first place.
Because in the end, we aren’t just building better guitarists.
We’re building richer lives: one thoughtful question, one practice session, and one meaningful moment at a time.