No one is behind: A songwriter's reflection on time and presence

Spencer Lee Wilson - The Dead Poet

In the world of music, we often think of tempo, timing, and rhythm—as if life itself were a grand composition. And yet, sometimes we can feel out of sync, as though we’ve missed our cue or fallen behind in the arrangement. But what if that feeling is just a dissonance created by comparison, not truth?

I've been thinking about this since a fellow musician and songwriter at the Filey Folk Festival said, "I'm behind everybody and trying to catch up." My immediate response was to simply say, "nobody is behind." Since then I've got to thinking, well if they're behind who is in front? Who am I behind and who is in front of me? And most of all, who is 'Who'? So the next part is what I thought, and I hope it helps (and reminds me) about the journey we're on, not who is in front or who is behind.

To say “nobody is behind and nobody is in front” is to recognise that life is not a metronome ticking in unison for all. It is a symphony of individual movements, each with its own time signature. Some songs begin with silence. Some build slowly. Others erupt in a single, striking chord. But none are wrong. None are late.

Laozi, the ancient Taoist philosopher, once wrote, “Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.” Like a melody that unfolds at its own pace, your creative path is not meant to be rushed. The verse you’re writing, the silence you’re sitting in, the chorus you haven’t found yet—they are all part of the music.

Songwriters know that the space between notes is as important as the notes themselves. The rests, the pauses, the unresolved chords—they create tension, beauty, and meaning. So too in life: the moments when you feel “behind” may simply be rests in your composition, not failures.

Existentialist thinkers like Kierkegaard remind us that each life is a solo performance, not a cover of someone else’s track. And modern voices like Eckhart Tolle urge us to return to the present moment—the only place where true music is made.

So if you feel like you’re catching up, remember: you’re not late to the stage. You’re tuning your instrument. You’re listening for the key. You’re composing something only you can write.

And when the time is right, your song will begin—not a moment too soon, not a beat too late.