If you’re feeling like life is overwhelming your music right now—you’re not alone.
I hope it’s okay if I speak plainly here. A bit more serious than usual, but I think it's necessary. And if this resonates with you, come join our free community with over 450 supportive guitarists of all ages and backgrounds. Free lessons, support, advice, and just great people. Join
The Problem
I’ve been noticing something lately—in my inbox, in conversations with students, even in the quiet moments I spend reflecting.
There’s a heaviness in the air.
I’m not talking about some vague online vibe. I’m talking about the real-world, gut-level stuff that affects how we live and whether we pick up the guitar at all.
It’s the kind of thing that doesn’t get mentioned in guitar tutorials or product reviews. But it’s there, underneath everything.
People are exhausted. Burned out. And for good reason.
Housing is unaffordable. Whether you're renting or buying, it feels impossible. Groceries are more expensive than ever. In the U.S., childcare and education costs are brutal. I won't discuss politics or religion, but regardless of what you believe, I think we can all agree that there are problems there as well.
And that old promise—that if you work a full-time job, you can live a stable life—is gone.
Now, most people I know work a full-time job and a side job—just to break even. Just to keep the lights on. That dream of one income, one home, one family life belonged to a different generation.
And all of this—this constant financial and life pressure—seeps into everything. Including your music.
One student told me he still loves guitar. Still wants to play. But lately, the state of the world has been so heavy, he can barely bring himself to pick it up.
Another works 40 hours a week and drives Uber for another 20. That’s 60 hours, not including commutes. Then he gets home and has to be a parent, a partner, a person. There’s nothing left for music.
That’s not burnout. That’s a slow erosion.
Can you relate to this?
I don’t have a solution to the economy. But I do have two things that have kept me going. Music and community.
A Few Solutions
Let’s start with music.
There’s something powerful about practicing guitar first thing in the morning.
It doesn’t have to be an hour. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be yours. For me, it’s usually 90 minutes. But this morning, I could only manage 45. And even that changed my entire outlook.
When I wake up, brush my teeth, grab my coffee, and carve out 20 minutes with my guitar—just 20 quiet minutes before the world grabs at me—I feel different.
I feel better.
Because for those few minutes, I'm not just surviving. I'm living.
I'm creating. I'm making space for myself.
And then there’s community.
I used to think I didn’t need it. After my dad passed, I turned inward. I didn’t want a crowd. I didn’t want to share space. And for years, that worked. Or I thought it did.
Now, I’ve realized something important:
Even introverts need connection.
Not the shallow kind. Not the comment-section chaos of YouTube, where more views mean more negativity.
But real community. A small, respectful, motivated group. A space where people are learning together and supporting each other.
That’s what I’m building with the free Skool community.
Right now, we’re at about 450 members. Compared to 70,000 views on a video, that’s a tiny slice. But it’s the right size. It’s focused, calm, and full of people who care.
This morning, I was having a rough one. Picked up my guitar, felt flat. Nothing came out. Then I jumped into the community and saw a few posts. A few people are excited. A few comments asking questions, offering support.
And that changed something in me. I was able to find a small spark.
Also, I released a free meditative guitar course inside the community. Some of you saw the YouTube video about it. I had plans to sell it. But it never felt right to charge for something meant to bring calm.
So it’s there for you, no strings attached.
This won’t fix the world. It won’t lower rent. It won’t make food cheaper.
But it gives us something to hold onto.
A habit that brings peace. A community that brings perspective.
Come join us: Join
And if you do, send me a direct message. Let me know you came from the newsletter. I’d love to hear what you’re working on, or what you thought of this message.
We’re going to be okay. Eventually. And we’ll get there faster if we’re not doing it alone.
Talk soon,
Andre Fludd
Lifelong Guitarist
