Feeling Blue, Learning Anew
Begin Again
Honesty, Present Tense
One thing readers appreciated about my memoirs was their honesty. It’s often easier to be candid about difficult feelings from the past than to admit them in the present.
So here goes: I’m feeling a bit blue. A little low.
Last night, I tried to figure out why. Two things stood out.
Confidence, Interrupted
The first is my health.
Last summer, my coronary artery disease (CAD) diagnosis came as a shock. I’d passed the stress test with flying colours, and the echogram revealed what my cardiologist called a “beautiful heart.”
Then came the CT scan—significant calcification. The angiogram confirmed it.
The professor overseeing the procedure advised me not to get my heart beating too fast. Sensible advice—but frustratingly vague. What’s “too fast”? And how would I know?
For a while, I was afraid to exercise. Even walking up hills made me cautious. Eventually, I found a lifeline: the Polar heart rate monitor. It gave me real-time heart-rate feedback—data I could trust.
That data helped me rebuild my confidence.
Two weeks ago, I cycled 50km, much of it in the second-highest heart-rate zone. The Polar app praised the pace: great for fitness, endurance, and speed. A demanding but safe ride.
Last Tuesday, I pushed further—65km, my longest ride this year, and the longest since my diagnosis. I felt strong, proud, and far removed from last summer’s fearful paralysis.
Supervised gym sessions have helped too. Four weeks ago, after about 20 sessions, I ran 1,101 metres in six minutes—good for a 63-year-old man. About a 5:24/km pace.
In short: I’d gone from uncertainty to clarity. I knew my limits, and I was thriving within them.
Red Zones and Realizations
Then came my most recent exercise class, which included jogging across a pitch.
Each time I picked up speed, my heart-rate spiked quickly into the red zone. My cardiologist says brief spikes are fine—but not sustained. I slowed down each time, bringing it back to the lower yellow range. But it spiked again to red as soon as I picked up the pace.
It was frustrating—and unsettling.
It reminded me that I do still have heart disease. I'm no longer the man who could storm up hills without worry. Sustained high intensity could trigger a heart attack. Or worse.
Music, Lost and Found
The second reason I was feeling low? Music.
I had hoped to make progress yesterday on recreating the sheet music for a song I co-wrote with Robin Lawley—music by Robin, lyrics by me—for peace and reconciliation between Palestinians and Israelis. Robin has the final score and is currently in hospital, but all I have is an earlier draft.
I tried two apps that transcribe audio into sheet music. Neither did a decent job. So I turned to MuseScore—the software my friend had used. But I’d have to learn it from scratch.
Now, I’m a lyricist, not a musician. Trying to recreate a score feels like learning a new language through another foreign language.
My primary school music lessons were 50 years ago! I’m now re-learning how to find notes on a piano—never mind mastering key signatures, time signatures, and orchestration.
On Wednesday, I’d made good progress. I hoped to continue yesterday. But something more pressing came up. No progress. I felt deflated.
Gaza and the Goal
A small frustration, I know—especially when compared to the suffering in Gaza and Israel, which inspired the song. It imagines reconciliation between Palestinians and Israelis, and my dream is to have a choir perform and record it. But no choir can sing from thin air—I need that sheet music.
So I’m learning.
Last night, I discovered Musica.com, which is helping me relearn the basics. Between that and MuseScore4, I hope to understand more about music—notes, rhythms, chords, scales, signatures, instruments, genres.
If I had my life to live again, I’d spend it in music. But this is the only life I have. So now is the time to learn.
Joy in Collaboration
It’s a joy to be writing songs with such gifted collaborators: Andrea Patron, The Rayne, Zac Ware, Robin Lawley… and others.
It’s never too late to get fitter—carefully, and with supervision. And it’s never too late to learn music.
Happy days,
Joe
PS I don’t feel blue anymore!
Joe’s acclaimed first memoir In My Gut, I Don’t Believe is available on Amazon in Kindle, Paperback, Hardback and Audible editions. His second memoir Saved by a Woman is available on Amazon in Kindle, Paperback, and Hardback editions.
Thanks Joe.
I enjoyed listening to this. It's the first of your posts - the first substack post - I've listened to rather than read. Your voice is well suited to the task and it did cross my mind that you would have made a lovely priest. 😉
I can relate to your heart troubles. I was found to have a right coronary artery that is being squeezed between the pulmonary artery and aorta, after I collapsed after a sea swim in 2018. Having had prostate cancer and now also myelofibrosis I retired early from the Civil Service in the North. Retirement is such a relief. Funnily, I reacted very differently from you to my heart troubles. Surgery was considered and then dismissed. I resumed sea swimming and put it (mostly) to the back of my mind. Is that courage or stupidity.
Since retiring, I have got involved in choirs, having had virtually no musical background. I still don't read music, so I must check out musica.com.
Thanks again!
thanks Joe , I don’t feel blue anymore too