Lee’s Story
Why the Life Story?
A long time ago, I was told that people like to know the person behind the work and that sharing a detailed personal story can help build trust in an online business. I was sceptical at first, but over the years, many people have commented on this page and said it helped them feel more connected. So if you’re curious, you can read the full story here.
You Earn Money How?
When I tell people I’m a composer, I often see a puzzled expression. They seem to imagine me writing music with a quill and parchment instead of working on a computer with a piano keyboard. Many don’t realise that composing today involves using software and technology, spending long hours in front of a screen rather than scribbling on manuscript paper or playing a piano.
Because of this, explaining what I do, how I work and the flexibility of my schedule isn’t always straightforward. Even family and friends sometimes find it hard to grasp.
The First 11 years!
As a child, I did not like school. The conformity wound me up. Even at primary school, I remember often wondering, What is this all about? This is not what I want to be doing: singing, assembly, the Lord’s Prayer, reading out loud, musical movement, running and jumping through hoops in PE. Even at the age of six, I was thinking, What am I doing this for?
The good thing was, I knew even then that I could be creative. I knew I liked music, and I was top of the class at daydreaming. Despite my reluctance, I realised school was not optional and that I had to conform and get on with it.
By the time I started secondary school, I had a record player and was already exploring vinyl records and singles. My dad had a large collection I was allowed to dip into, and my taste was eclectic. One moment that really stands out was hearing Bohemian Rhapsody for the first time through headphones. My brain went wild. I wasn’t focused on the words but on the notes, the intervals, the harmonies, the textures. I listened to it again and again.
It was a surreal experience to identify musical references I could not name or had never been taught about before. Although I was fully conscious, my mind seemed to enter a new world that I could relate to and understand.
It was quite profound and almost inexplicable. Focusing on different elements of the music, my brain triggered numerous emotions simultaneously, taking me on a journey through the interlinked complexities of the music and leaving me feeling like my brain had been given a full workout. It was almost like all my physical and mental energy was taken over by the music and nothing else existed.
Secondary School
At secondary school, I met the brass teacher and became fascinated by the school brass band. My aim was to be part of it, and the brass teacher suggested I would be best suited to the trombone. Times were different then. Charlie was a peripatetic teacher who used an old house on the school grounds as his classroom. More specifically, the room in the attic of this old school house (Bradbury Boys Secondary School, Hale). The rest of the house seemed to have been repurposed into changing rooms and storage for the PE department.
The stairs were uncarpeted and creaky, leading to the attic room where Charlie had a three-bar electric fire for heating. Apart from the faint warmth from the fire, the room was cold and damp. It was a September morning. The room felt imposing and shabby, almost derelict, but Charlie’s humour and positivity made you forget. There were six of us, sitting on chairs in a circle. Charlie eagerly passed around a variety of instruments and explained how to produce a note. The first instrument you managed to get a decent sound out of became yours. Mine ended up being the trombone, although it had plenty of dents and a barely movable slide.
From that point on, you had a 20-minute lesson each week. Charlie was clear but fair. He said, if you do not want to work at this, do not take the instrument. It is hard work, but it will be worth it if you put the effort in. Charlie Holt became a great mentor, and we stayed friends long after I left school. I even played in one of his brass bands for a short time.
As I progressed with my musical training, the surreal experience I had years earlier listening to music repeated many times while playing and listening. It was now at a much higher intensity, sometimes almost like a meditative experience, a complete disconnect from one’s physical self.
In my life, I have met only a small number of people who can fully relate to this. Apart from the difficulty of putting it into words, I know it probably sounds a bit bonkers. When I zone into music, I do not really listen to the lyrics. I do hear them but I do not focus on the words. I cannot have any distractions around me if I am going to get into that zone; it has to be just me and the music.
I tend not to remember the names of songs, artists or bands, but I can recall the most obscure details in the production of the music. I might hear the first few bars and think, That is the one with the cool bass bit in the middle or the one that uses the single extended string note through four bars, rather than Oh, that is [song] by [artist].
To me, a great piece of music can be from any genre or time period, as long as it speaks to me emotionally. It is hard to explain in words because I relate more to the musical concepts than their names.
Whether this makes sense to anyone else or not, this is how I experience music and come up with ideas. When I’m in that zone, singing along, dancing or talking just doesn’t happen. It’s not a social moment but a focused and emotional space. It’s addictive and gives me a natural high that I return to whenever I can.
The Showband Days
At 15, I joined the Ashton-on-Mersey Showband, led by the late Ernie Waites MBE, where I played gigs most weekends for the next seven years or so. This was my longest stint in a band, and I had a great time playing venues across the UK and abroad. Some of the notable gigs included the Free Trade Hall in Manchester, the Tower Ballroom in Blackpool, Ayia Napa in Cyprus in 1990, and Universal Studios, Epcot Centre and Disney World in Florida in 1992. We also played for Prince Charles, performed alongside the Herb Miller Band, and made several studio recordings.
The holidays abroad with the band were always eventful. The group, including players and entourage, was around sixty strong at the time. It basically meant having a great holiday with your mates and doing four or five gigs along the way.
The band has been running since 1973 and is still going strong. It has raised almost one million pounds for UK charities.
After starting out on trombone as a child and playing into my early adulthood, I put it aside as electronic music and production took over. This was probably around 1992/3.
I thought I was done with it. But around 24 years later, something shifted. I began to feel drawn back to it, and in 2017 I joined the Flixton Community Band. A few months later, I got a message from John, a trombone player I knew from the Ashton band days. He was still playing and asked if I was too. When I said yes, he mentioned they were looking for trombone players. I went along, and to my surprise, many of the players from when I was in the band were still there. Now, there are four of us from the original line-up in the 80s and 90s. Life has a funny way of bringing things full circle.
Technology!
Later in my teens and into my early twenties, I discovered synthesizers and sequencers, and my passion for music moved into a new phase. I became completely absorbed in music tech and started buying gear, including samplers, sound modules, software, PA systems and more.
Throughout my twenties, I worked on the cabaret circuit doing a variety of sound engineering jobs and creating backing tracks using MIDI and samples. I also played keyboards in several original bands before shifting more towards live sound and music production for bands and artists.
At first, it was exciting and full of energy, but by the mid-1990s I started to feel disillusioned with the path I was on. I was stuck between low-paying music jobs and regular jobs with long hours that drained the life out of me. The music jobs did not pay enough and the non-music jobs I took to make ends meet felt soul destroying.
Around the same time, I got connected to the internet. Hard to imagine a time without it now. I set up a basic personal webpage using simple HTML and had a lightbulb moment. I began to see the potential the internet might offer someone in my position. That moment helped me shape a plan to build a better and more fulfilling livelihood based entirely around music. It gave me the push I needed to make some real changes and aim for the work I actually wanted to do.
Back to Education
In 1996, feeling optimistic again, I became increasingly interested in computer-based music production and decided to return to education as a mature student. I had already built up a decent collection of gear, as you can see from the photo. The course I wanted to do required two A-levels, but I did not want to spend two years getting qualifications that would never actually help me. So I applied anyway.
I was rejected.
I knew I could do the course. It felt right for me, and I could not just accept the rejection. I went to the college and asked to meet the person who had made the decision.
When I finally got the meeting, I made it clear how I felt about the A-level requirement and explained in detail why I believed I should be given a chance. After a fair but lively discussion, the course leader must have realised I was not going to give up easily.
Eventually, he said, “OK. I will set you a written test and we will go from there.”
I was ecstatic. I had managed to convince him to consider me based on passion and experience rather than just qualifications. Years of reading music tech magazines and obsessing over gear were about to come in useful. I sat the test, handed it in, and waited.
Some time later, a letter arrived from City College. I will never forget the feeling of opening it. I was in. I had been offered an unconditional place on the HND Music Technology course at City College, Manchester.
I studied full-time from 1996 to 1998 and passed, despite working several part-time jobs around my lectures. It was hard work, but a major turning point in my life.
I graduated in 1998. I thought about continuing into further education, but by then I was already busy with music-related jobs. These included being a roadie, working with solo acts and tribute bands, live sound engineering, studio recording, running a mobile recording setup, creating backing tracks, building custom PA speakers and hiring them out to bands and DJs.
A Realisation
Through the early to late 1990’s I had been working really hard, mostly unsociable hours in noisy, smoky clubs back when smoking indoors was still allowed. I would often get home at three in the morning or later, tired and reeking of smoke, which was pretty horrendous for a non-smoker. I loved it at first, but there were no sick days. If you were ill, you still worked. Holidays were difficult to take because I was doing a job that many people wanted. The show had to go on, no matter how tired you were or how bad your cold was.
Even though much of the work had a musical element, I started to feel disillusioned with the idea of working so hard just to earn a living. I was trading most of my time for money, working for other people, some of whom I did not even like, putting in effort to make their projects successful. It was becoming a rut. I started to realise that time is a very limited resource. Once it is gone, it does not come back.
The thought of doing the same thing until I retired filled me with dread. I had already spent years earning a living for other people and knew I did not want to carry on that way. I had a phase of being a freelance engineer and doing things I genuinely enjoyed, but as my enthusiasm faded, I knew that repeating the same jobs or getting a regular job with a boss would wear me down completely.
I had managed to stay in music, mainly working nights and weekends, but I also had several other casual jobs just to keep afloat. I was burning out. Despite having made big changes to my life, I still could not find the time to focus on the thing that truly nourished me. My time was always shaped by other people’s schedules. Something had to change again.
Turning to the Internet
My personal website was slowly gaining interest, although mostly from friends and family. The problem was, it looked homemade, and I really wanted it to start generating income in some way. So I decided to start a business selling music licenses online.
With no prior experience in this area, I asked a computer programmer friend to help me build a basic proof-of-concept site. The result was music4media.biz (a domain I no longer own). I uploaded my own tracks and began emailing media production companies to share the site. The response was encouraging. With a small loan from the Prince’s Trust, the plan was to develop a much larger site with a wider range of music.
At the time, dot-com startups were headline news. Ridiculous sums of money were being thrown at internet ventures. As things progressed, other people wanted to get involved and offered to work in exchange for shares and seats on the board. It all sounded exciting, and before long, we had a team of eight, five of whom were board members.
We spent countless hours discussing ideas, plans and strategies. Eventually, we decided to seek investment and rebranded the project as Zejo. Our goal was to raise funding for a full-scale music licensing platform. At that time, many online businesses were raising huge amounts of money, and we aimed to do the same.
Unfortunately, having a team of volunteers with mixed priorities, conflicting views and different agendas made progress incredibly slow. Meetings dragged on. Decisions were hard to make. From my point of view, it was becoming a frustrating and ineffective way to move forward.
By around the year 2000, the dot-com bubble had burst. Several high-profile sites had burned through millions in investment and failed to turn a profit. In May of that year, the collapse of Boo.com — which had burned through 120 million dollars — was a wake-up call for investors everywhere.
Investor confidence was at rock bottom. Zejo was aiming to raise 3.5 million pounds, which might have been achievable at the peak of the dot-com boom, but by then, we had missed the moment.
We reworked our massive business plan over and over and travelled the country looking for investors for what had become an overcomplicated and overvalued website. I even applied to pitch on the first series of a new TV show called Dragons’ Den.
Our 50-page business plan was too broad, trying to be all things to all markets rather than focusing on a single clear offering. On top of that, the amount we were asking for seemed absurd in the post-bubble climate. The application was rejected outright, and most investors I approached either laughed at the figures or quickly lost interest.
Looking back, I can see the core problem. We needed huge investment to fund inflated staffing needs and overpriced web development. It made no financial sense and was completely out of touch with the direction the internet was taking.
Dot-coms were no longer the playthings of rich investors or funded based on hype alone. It had become a world of lean startups and bootstrapped projects where only proven revenue and low running costs could secure investment. Our plan belonged to a different era and had no place in this new reality.
By 2004, Zejo was effectively dead. I had started learning more about how the internet actually worked and was beginning to see that we had approached everything in the wrong way. The team was breaking apart, and any attempt I made to adjust the plan or shift the mindset of certain people was a losing battle. It was like trying to run up a sand dune — exhausting, and you barely move forward.
It was time to cut my losses. Zejo was finished. In the context of the internet, it had already become a dinosaur.
Looking back, the whole experience was incredibly valuable. I have no regrets..
This is it!
In 2005, with a fresh startup and two like-minded shareholders, MediaMusicNow was born. Unlike my previous business venture, this time I had the freedom to make decisions quickly and steer things in the direction I believed in. No lengthy board meetings and no endless discussions. Just clear and focused progress. It was a breath of fresh air and a much-needed new beginning.
Adam, (the other shareholder) provided a modest personal investment and supported many of the business tasks, which allowed me to concentrate on building and guiding the business.
The plan was simple, we were going to fully embrace the fast-growing online world and focus on visibility through search engines. It was all about keywords and ranking.
Back then, in 2005, Google was just starting to dominate search. Google Maps had launched. YouTube had appeared. Facebook was beginning to spread beyond universities. Twitter had not yet launched. Blogging was about to go mainstream and completely change how people used the internet.
I was 34 and had already been through a mix of experiences, some rewarding and others frustrating. This time, I was ready for something to work. I needed a clear win.
Getting momentum
This was an exciting time, but despite my experiences so far I was about to embark on a learning curve that would finally change my life in the way that I really wanted. Media Music Now was formed and the original website went live in July 2005; it was all down to me now. I finally have no boss, no slow moving team, no debates, no conflicts, just my own thoughts and decisions and a limited amount of time to make this happen before the money ran out. No pressure then!
After the website went live, I had to contact the composers that we had badly let down with Zejo. We had promised so much but had delivered so little. Most were understanding of the situation but some did not wish to work with me again, which was fair enough. Some were happy to work with me but gave me a piece of their mind before they committed. I could not really argue with anyone, accept responsibility and say that I had learned valuable lessons with Zejo and would not make the same mistakes again, I would do everything in my power to make MediaMusicNow a success.
I also had a knack for being enthusiastic and optimistic when I truly believed in something and this won me the support of many.
Glass half full
Even in moments when I was secretly terrified, or completely unsure of what would happen, whether something would work or whether I could even do a particular task, I would always try to be outwardly optimistic and confident and try to put doubts out of my mind. I would also receive well-meaning, but badly timed advice from friends and family to get a job or try something different. I responded to this advice with strong-minded resistance, insisting that it would be worth it in the end.
I had grown more confident in my own judgement and learned to be sceptical of advice unless it came from someone with proven success. Too often, advice comes from those with little relevant experience. If someone has never run a business, worked independently, or managed a website, their guidance may not be worth following. It is not about being dismissive, just realistic. You have to cut through the noise and trust your instincts.
My only influence now was from studying people who had already made it. These were my guides and reading/listening to business books was to become a major factor in my future.
In 2005 MediaMusicNow was live and stocked with music. People could license and download. But… they weren’t!
To be honest, I did not know what to do. I was working tirelessly trying many strategies that I had convinced myself would work. The problem was, everybody was saying the right thing… things like… we will definitely use your service for our music… website looks great, we will use it on our next project… the problem was, people were not using the website.
A lifeline
During my Zejo days, I had made a few connections and one of them was called Clare, from a company called Adoofa. Clare had always been direct and honest with me about Zejo and I knew I could trust her. She is one of those people that took pleasure in giving people advice, and often for free.
I asked her if she would be prepared to meet with me and see if there were any pointers that she could give. She already knew I was fast running out of cash and she knew the Zejo story. I think she took pity on my plight and she agreed to meet.
At our meeting, she proceeded to politely but firmly point out all of the issues the website had. It was amazing, a real revelation at the time. There was nothing wrong with the way the website looked but its ability to rank in the search results was very restricted by a number of factors. Clare was doing well with her business and although I never doubted her knowledge, she certainly showed me that her services were essential in pointing us in the right direction. She offered to do some work on our search engine problems for a favourable rate and I promptly agreed.
Days later we had spreadsheets of meta information and keyword reports. I had instructions to implement these changes and to educate myself in search engine marketing. As a result, I started to look for help on the subject and realised that it was a minefield of information, much of it conflicting. Also, many of the American websites seem too much of a hard sell for me, I ideally wanted a UK expert. Fortunately, I stumbled across The Internet Marketing Bible by Michael Cheney, a UK entrepreneur who was and still is doing really well online.
Meeting with Clare and finding Michael’s Internet Marketing Bible, combined with the focused activity changed the fortunes of the business. The knowledge I was gaining set me off on an internet marketing learning curve that was to see MediaMusicNow become a contender in the royalty free music/stock music market.
First Real Steps
In September 2006, we saw our first modest sale come through. The changes we had made were finally being picked up by the search engines. The sense of relief was incredible. I was finally moving in the direction I had dreamed about. MediaMusicNow was growing slowly but steadily, and I no longer needed to work elsewhere. My goal from that point was to keep it that way for the rest of my life.
As the business grew, it became clear that I needed help. Luckily, the other investor and shareholder was also looking for a change. His job had become unfulfilling, and he was keen to join MediaMusicNow full-time when the opportunity arose. In 2008, Adam was able to leave his job, and the business became a joint operation. We focused on tasks that suited each of our strengths, and from that point, the business evolved naturally.
As our confidence and knowledge of the internet grew, so did the business. Monitoring keywords and tracking website statistics became essential. These tasks were fundamental in building success. But of course, the internet never stays the same, and challenges still lie ahead.
Google had become the dominant search engine and was introducing major changes. Search engine optimisation had to keep pace. Strategies that once worked quickly became outdated. Unfortunately, we were about to learn this lesson the hard way.
At one time, paid links were a popular shortcut. You could pay and appear on thousands of websites instantly. At the time, many people considered them acceptable. However, others warned that these links distorted search results, which Google was likely to punish.
In hindsight, I should have acted sooner. Google began hinting at upcoming changes, and some high-traffic websites were already reporting massive losses. By the time I cancelled our paid links, it was too late. MediaMusicNow was hit. We dropped from many search results overnight. Thankfully, we had loyal clients and a small stream of regular traffic, but recovery took time.
We fixed the issue, and after several months we regained our position. The lesson was clear. We had to stay alert, adapt quickly and follow best practices. Since then, we have worked hard to stay ahead of changes and keep everything aligned with Google’s guidelines.
Even now, I never lose sight of how much influence Google holds. It can change everything with a single update.
Multiple Income Streams
Since 2007, we have seen a steady rise in requests for services that we did not originally offer. This led us to develop multiple income streams. Some are active, some have ended, and others are sitting ready to grow if or when we put more work into them. Some of these are personal income sources, while others come through company dividends. It is a mix of digital products and work-for-hire services.
Having more than one business and more than one income stream is reassuring, but it also comes with challenges. It divides your focus and often takes far longer to set up and develop than you expect. I tend to be overly optimistic, so I sometimes assume things will be simple when they are not. I do fail at things, but I am never afraid to try something new.
Camping?
At this point in the story, I had just hit my forties. Things were going well on the business front, but I was starting to realise that too much time focused on work, too much screen time, and a sedentary lifestyle were not doing me any favours physically or mentally.
I’ve always liked the outdoors and nature, and I used to enjoy camping, both with others and on my own. So, as I turned 40, I decided to take a solo camping trip and reconnect with that part of myself. I bought a new tent, dug out all my old gear, and set off.
I can’t remember exactly where I went, but the countryside was spectacular and the weather was perfect. That said, I woke up cold, with a headache, and my head jammed into the corner of the tent after slowly sliding to one end during the night, thanks to a slight slope.
The next few nights did not go much better. I had gone from loving the idea of camping to not really enjoying sleeping on the ground anymore.
That was when I decided to buy a van and convert it into a motorhome. I had always fancied the idea and this felt like the right time to go for it.
I was fortunate that Adam was handling the day-to-day running of the business, which meant I could take a good amount of time off to work on the van. It became a real passion project and after several months it was almost complete and ready to use.
I started going away in it a lot, enjoying the outdoors again and getting real value from the trips. What I did not realise at the time was just how important this would become when I had to face a recurring issue.
Dealing with a Recurring Issue
Life was good. I had no money worries, I was enjoying my van trips and, on the surface, there was no reason to feel anxious or depressed. Or so I thought. Yet here I was again, sitting in the doctor’s office being prescribed antidepressants.
This had been a recurring problem since my teens. I had had enough. I understood what clinical depression was, but I still did not know why it kept happening.
I would go through periods of feeling fine, then I would dip, get prescribed tablets, feel better for a while, come off them, and after a year or two, find myself going through the same cycle again. And again.
Understanding the Darkness
I knew how serious my depression could get and how dark it could become. Honestly, I think I had been on the edge a few times. I kind of knew what triggered it but felt powerless to stop it.
Over time, like many things, attitudes towards depression have changed. When I first experienced it in my teens, I was encouraged not to talk about it. Mental illness carried a heavy stigma. Thankfully, things are different now, but rates of depression and suicide remain far too high and completely unacceptable.
What concerns me is that the cycle of depression and the tendency to rely on medication still seem very common.
Mindfullness
Not wanting to start another course of tablets, I asked for some kind of counselling and was referred to Trafford Psychological Therapies. At first, I was given a stack of reading to get through, and honestly, it felt like a waste of time. I’m someone who prefers audiobooks or videos over reading, so it didn’t suit me. On top of that, the methods didn’t really resonate.
Fortunately, the person taking my sessions was new to the job, fresh from university. When I shared my reservations, I also mentioned I’d heard about mindfulness. She said that wasn’t the usual approach but she’d be happy to explore mindfulness with me during my sessions.
She turned out to be an amazing help, and I began listening to audiobooks on mindfulness. Alongside some CBT techniques, after about eight weeks I felt like I no longer needed the tablets and started coming off them.
I can’t remember the exact time or date now, but I know it has been over ten years. I feel like my depression is in remission. I would love to say cured, but I am not sure that word ever quite fits with depression.
Aside from one short period when my dad died suddenly, I have not needed medication and hope it stays that way. That said, if I ever really needed them again, I would not hesitate. There is no place for pride in these situations.
Mindfulness and meditation can be genuinely life-changing. As I listened to audiobooks on the subject, I started to get quite good at it. I always say, it’s simple but not necessarily easy.
I often hear people say they meditate or practise mindfulness, but then it turns out they’re just sitting quietly thinking about their shopping list or what they need to do in the morning. That was me too, at first. But once you really get the feel for mindfulness, it becomes something much deeper.
I listened to a few books, but some of the methods were a bit too weird for me, too regimented or just didn’t resonate.
For example, The Raisin Exercise really turned me off mindfulness at first. If you’re the same, don’t be put off.
For context, the raisin exercise is a classic beginner’s practice, mentioned a lot. It involves eating a single raisin very slowly, using all your senses to fully experience it. The idea is to demonstrate what it means to be truly present.
You’re asked to:
• Look at the raisin – notice its colour, shape and texture
• Feel it – how does it feel between your fingers?
• Smell it – what does it smell like?
• Place it in your mouth – notice how it feels on your tongue
• Chew slowly – pay attention to the taste and texture
• Swallow – observe the sensation and how your body feels afterwards
Although that method is not for me, it might work for you. I did not have a raisin, so I used a bit of apple instead. All I could think about was how weird I felt and how ridiculous I must have looked doing it.
Still, the raisin method does demonstrate the principle. Mindfulness is about fully focusing on one thing at a time, to the point where there is no space for past regrets or future worries. Simple, but not always easy.
Although I did not realise it at the time, I had already experienced that kind of focus years earlier as a child, listening to and playing music. Sometimes mindfulness happens naturally, without you even knowing the name for it.
Spiritual Atheist, No Drugs Involved
Sounds odd? Here’s the thing. In the past, I’ve spent many evenings in music venues, band rehearsal rooms and studios, often surrounded by people taking all sorts, from weed to much harder stuff. But I never joined in. No drugs, not even smoking. Just alcohol, and even that has been fairly tame. I probably inhaled enough passive smoke in venues back in the 80s and 90s though. Before the smoking ban, venues used to become thick with blueish smoke, your eyes would stream and your clothes would stink. I hated that aspect.
I tried religion in my younger days, but it always felt like control and dogma. That said, through mindfulness I’ve had experiences that were powerful and spiritual. So I’ve ended up a kind of spiritual atheist. I can kind of see where religions are trying to go, but I think meditation and mindfulness is pure and free in comparison.
It started simply. I’d go walking and really focus on one thing. It could be a single tree in the distance, the shape of it, the texture and colour of the bark, the colour of the leaves. Then as I passed it, I’d find the next thing to focus on. This could even be a sound or a smell. Perhaps a prominent birdsong, a distant stream, the scent of cut grass or spring air. Fully present. One thing at a time.
Additionally, at home, I’d lie down, close my eyes, and focus on my breath or a mind image to achieve the same. However, being out in nature and doing mindfulness walking has so much more power for me.
You have to do what suits you, but always one focus at a time. If other thoughts come in, acknowledge them, then come back to the focus. It’s a simple idea, but like most good things, it takes practice. That is the point. It is a practice.
Losing the words
As my mindfulness practice grew stronger, I also started listening to Eckhart Tolle’s book The Power of Now. It was hard to grasp at first, so I had to listen several times. But it helped deepen the practice, and that shift is what led to the spiritual experiences I touched upon earlier.
This is something I am happy to share, though it often gets strange looks. Some people think I’ve lost the plot or must have been on drugs. It amuses me how unsettled some people get when you mention things like this. And honestly, if I hadn’t experienced it myself, I’d probably react the same way. That said, I’m not trying to convince anyone of anything. Unlike many religions, this isn’t about belief or persuasion.
I’m paraphrasing here, but Eckhart talks about losing the words, and how amazing things can happen when you do. If you think about it, that’s almost impossible. We use language to name everything. If I say “elephant,” you instantly get a picture in your mind. And if you actually see an elephant, your mind goes, “Oh, an elephant!”
That labelling happens automatically. But the practice is about seeing without naming, experiencing without the filter of language. That’s when things start to shift.
It is really hard. I’m not going to pretend otherwise and I can only manage it for short periods. But when you turn that mindfulness walk into a practice where you lose some of the words, you can shift into a state of pure experience. Completely in the moment, completely in the now. We only have the now. The past is a memory of a previous now and the future does not exist. The more we use our minds to relive past nows and predict future nows, the more stress we experience. Of course, there is more to it than that, but that is the essence.
So what did I experience? Well, this is the difficult part. Language is so limited and words cannot fully capture the pure euphoria I felt. Describing it verbally has always been tricky, so writing about it is no easier. That said, I will try.
The two most powerful experiences I have had took me into a state of heightened awareness. The bubble of awareness around me slowly expanded. As strange as it sounds, I became aware of and could feel the trees and people beyond what I could physically see. This grew until I felt connected to the whole planet and everything on it. Beyond that, I felt myself expanding outward into space.
This is very hard to explain, but my body and I felt separate. My body kept walking, but I could see and feel everything around me and experienced rushing through space almost instantly. Then I realised time didn’t exist. My understanding of everything seemed to expand at an incredible rate, as if every question was being answered.
There was a deep sense of knowing and love and an understanding of eternity and never really dying. I cannot tell you how long it lasted in clock time. It could have been a few seconds or many minutes but that did not matter. The experience beyond my body felt vast.
People often ask what I could see and I am not sure if seeing is the right word. It was more like I could experience and feel everything but not through any physical sense.
As the experience began to fade, I felt myself falling back and my awareness shrinking. When it ended, I felt tiny and insignificant yet eternally important and part of something infinite. All the answers to the big questions were no longer with me, but I carried a deep sense of peace that has never fully left.
Some years later, I have had many similar experiences on smaller levels, but I don’t really try to seek them out. I don’t know why, but I guess I don’t feel the need to. I understand that I can’t know all the things I seemed to know during those two major experiences. I know I am limited and here for a reason. That reason is something I am still working on.
Since then, I have met numerous people who talk about similar experiences, though most think I am a bit bonkers. That doesn’t matter.
Mindfulness and going deeper into it have changed my awareness and understanding of life and existence. People close to me have noticed the change too. I’m calmer and less concerned with material things. To me, it is all positive, and sceptical people do not worry me. Most want to explain it as some kind of brain episode or moment of madness. I don’t mind. It doesn’t matter. I experienced it, and it will never not have happened.
What does worry me is that many people (some I’ve tried to help) can’t grasp mindfulness and remain stuck in depression or anxiety without using this free tool. While people don’t need to go as deep as I did, they could still benefit from the practice. Sadly, I hear many say, “Oh yes, I’ve tried that. It didn’t work.” I wonder if they really reached a single focused state or if they were just messing about with raisins or sitting quietly while thinking about their problems. Many people live in the past or the future but rarely truly experience the present moment.
This experience was the reason I started my mindfulness music and YouTube channel, Scenic Exploration https://www.youtube.com/@scenicexplorationuk
My van travels, nature and mindfulness truly are my medicine.
Happy ever after? Not quite.
Things were going great for a while. I started to think I’d cracked it, with regular royalty payments coming in. It felt like the kind of income that could keep ticking over for life. But then things began to change.
The stock music libraries I relied on for income started to multiply. Back in the late 2000s, I was part of one of the first. There were maybe five of us then. Now, there are hundreds.
At first, it looked like a real opportunity. You could place the same track in multiple libraries and earn from them all. But as the market became crowded, payments got smaller. You’d typically earn $15 to $20 per use, but then the libraries began cutting composer percentages and undercutting each other.
Eventually, many switched to a subscription model, where users pay a small monthly fee and download as much as they like. That shift saw royalties drop to pennies. I’d say mine have fallen by around 80%.
AI
We are in 2025 now, and AI is disrupting countless services worldwide. Entire industries are changing, and many say we are at the start of a new industrial revolution. AI is already doing a decent job at creating music and handling a range of tasks, so we all have to rethink where we put our energy.
Views range from optimistic to those who believe we are heading for disaster. My stance is somewhere in the middle. I believe formulaic music, which much of the stock music world consists of, will become obsolete, as AI can now generate that sort of content in seconds. But I also believe people will continue to value originality and human-made art. In fact, human expression might become even more sought after.
At this point, original thought, emotional intelligence, and subjective interpretation remain uniquely human. These are nuanced qualities that AI cannot truly replicate. Everything AI creates is based on human work. Without human creativity, what would it have to learn from?
I do not know the answer, or what the future holds. But I know I need a plan.
The Plan
After 20 years in music and audio production, I am adapting to major shifts in the industry, particularly the rise in competition and the growing impact of AI. Fortunately, the music industry is layered, with many different areas to explore.
Stock music is relatively easy to get into. The barrier to entry is low. Because of that, I have been focusing on refining my skills and aiming to move into production and sync libraries that sit higher up the industry food chain. These libraries demand higher quality, complete originality, and often expect real instruments in the music they accept.
They supply music to film, TV and advertising, and they still charge proper royalty fees for composers. Unlike many stock libraries that are caught in a race to the bottom, cutting costs with little regard for the creator, these libraries tend to value the composer and their work. Many also offer upfront payments for content.
Alongside this, I am concentrating more on scoring for film and video, and developing music for adverts. I also want to feature my own trombone playing in my music and collaborate with other musicians whenever possible, expanding my network and bringing more live performance into my work.
As bad as smoking
If you have read this far, you will know how important nature is to me and how much I value getting outdoors. Sitting at a screen for long periods is not good for anyone. A sedentary lifestyle is now said to be as bad as smoking.
I am very aware of this, so I make a point of doing some physical activity each week. That includes trips in my van, regular walks, and I am also planning to start building catios in my local area. The gym bores me, and I have no interest in swimming or running, but a day of physical work each week suits me well. As a little side business, building catios is ideal. I am practical, I enjoy making things, and I love cats.
Tied into my van trips and mindfulness practice, I am also creating mindfulness music and filming drone footage in beautiful locations to go alongside it.
So this is where I am for now—still navigating an industry in flux, still learning, still creating. The path is rarely straight, and there will always be new challenges ahead. But I’m committed to following where my passion and curiosity lead, finding balance between tradition and innovation, and embracing whatever comes next. This story is far from finished.