Moving On Without Closure

{{#invoke:MediaWiki|title|Moving On Without Closure: The Rest Notes You Can't Skip}}

Kid, let me tell you something about closure. You hear it all the time: “You can’t move on until you get closure.” Like it’s a thing you collect, a shiny trophy at the end of the road. Nah. That’s the biggest myth I’ve ever played through.

Here’s what I know after 78 years: Closure isn’t a destination. It’s a myth you chase, and it’ll leave you stranded in the past. I spent decades trying to “fix” things—my band, my family, my own mess—waiting for a final chord to land perfectly. It never did. The music just… kept playing. Sometimes with a flat note. Sometimes with a silence where the bass should be.

Reality? You learn to play the rest notes too. The unresolved spaces. The “what ifs” that don’t get answered. That’s where the real work happens. When I finally stopped waiting for the perfect ending to my addiction, I didn’t get a tidy resolution. I got… breathing room. Space to build something new, note by note, without the weight of a phantom finale dragging me down.

Why does this matter? Because chasing closure is like trying to play a solo in a band that’s already left the stage. It’s exhausting. It keeps you stuck in the past, replaying the same old mistakes like a broken record. But when you accept that some endings are just… quiet, you free up the rhythm. You can finally hear the next phrase coming. My grandkids ask about my old band—why I left. I tell them: “We didn’t need a goodbye. We needed to keep playing.” That’s how you move on. Not with a bow, but with a beat.

So stop waiting for the final note. Start listening to the space between. That’s where your next song lives. You don’t need closure. You need to keep the groove going.

— Roger Jackson, still playing

— Francisco Meyer, still earning the second chance