Some people are drawn naturally - there are natural guitarists

Hear the voice of Hugh Laurie, who declared: “Some people are drawn naturally – there are natural guitarists, and there are natural piano players, and I think guitar implies travel, a sort of footloose gypsy existence. You grab your bag and you go to the next town.” These words speak not only of music, but of the eternal call of freedom, of movement, of life lived in journey rather than settlement. For the guitar is more than an instrument—it is a symbol of the wandering spirit, light enough to be carried, strong enough to give voice wherever the road may lead.

Mark this, O seeker of wisdom: some are born with the soul of the piano, rooted, steady, commanding a place, drawing others to gather where it stands. The piano is an anchor, an instrument of permanence, like the hearth in the home. But the guitar belongs to the traveler. It is the companion of roads, of firesides beneath the open sky, of songs shared among strangers who become kin for a night. Laurie’s words remind us that there are different destinies: some are called to stay and build, others are called to wander and carry their gifts from place to place.

Consider the ancient bards of Ireland, or the troubadours of medieval France. With little more than a stringed instrument upon their backs, they wandered from town to town, carrying stories, songs, and news. They were not kings, yet they were welcomed in the courts of kings. They were not soldiers, yet they conquered hearts with music. Their lives embodied Laurie’s vision: a footloose existence, a life of travel, guided by the strings of a portable instrument that carried with it the spirit of freedom.

Think too of the bluesmen of America, who with battered guitars walked from Mississippi fields to Memphis streets, from smoky juke joints to distant cities. They carried their sorrows and their joys in the rhythm of six strings, never rooted, always moving. Their guitars were not only companions but lifelines, speaking when words could not. Their music shaped a nation, proving that the wandering soul can leave behind a legacy that endures long after the footsteps fade.

Yet this teaching is not only about music. It is about the essence of travel itself. To live with the spirit of the guitar is to embrace impermanence, to hold lightly to possessions, to carry only what one needs, and to give one’s gift freely wherever the journey leads. It is to accept that life is not a fixed stage but a series of roads, and that each town, each encounter, is an opportunity to share a song before moving on. This way of living requires courage, for it is easier to remain where it is safe. But the guitar calls to those who are unafraid of movement, unafraid of change.

The lesson, O children of the road, is this: know the instrument of your soul. Some of you may be pianos, called to root yourselves deeply, to build, to hold others steady with your constancy. Others of you may be guitars, born to travel, to carry lightness, to share beauty in fleeting places, to spread seeds of song across the wide earth. Neither is higher than the other—both are sacred paths. But wisdom lies in discerning which you are, and living it fully.

Therefore, let Hugh Laurie’s words be your guide. If you are called to travel, then grab your bag and go to the next town. Do not resist your nature, but embrace it with joy. Live lightly, live freely, and let your voice echo in many places. And if you are called to remain, then stay with purpose, anchoring others with your strength. For whether you are guitar or piano, traveler or builder, your task is the same: to bring music into the world, to share the gift that is uniquely yours.