We all have those dips in our lives, those valleys that counter the peaks to remind us to enjoy the peaks while we have them. The rock in our shoe to remind us we’re walking. The cut at the edge of our mouth to remind us we’re smiling.
We all have those moments.
Some just last longer than others.
Some seem to never go away.
It’s a mix of chemistry and learned behavior and acceptance.
Maybe.
Maybe it’s the need to give up so that hope doesn’t become a noose looking for an anchor point.
I have moments where I lift my head from the river of life and look around and see how very little I have traveled. And it’s me being in my feelings but sometimes you need to be. You need to let go of the light with one hand and let the darkness in so you remember its cold breath and hear the whispers of its voice once more.
Failure.
Failure.
Failure.
Gonging like a deathknell to hope.
Pulling you back to the worst, most vulnerable moments in your life.
The childhood bully, the love interest that spurned you, the friend that walked away, the job you lost, on and on and on.
For me it’s a lot of things exacerbated by having done a recent event where someone peaced out after deciding it ‘wasn’t their vibe’.
The show wasn’t very well attended and the utter disdain in the artist’s voice as they told me they were leaving felt like so much salt in an open wound.
It mortified me, the idea of quitting on a show you agreed to be in just an hour into it, and it felt deeply rude.
This is sorta who we are though, and to a degree I can’t fault it.
We have a finite amount of time on this earth so if you ‘aren’t feeling it’ then you should leave, because you’ll just bring everyone else down anyway.
We bring our own vibes much of the time and if you came expecting something that wasn’t what you found, well, then bucko, maybe you should save everyone some time.
It has happened before.
It still hit me harder this time, though it always sucks because, again, it’s rude. It’s breaking a commitment you made.
But that’s sorta who we are.
It stings.
Just as it does to release another book to no interest or fanfare.
And that is me being in my feelings.
We bring our own party, just like we bring our own vibes, and if you aren’t celebrating your achievements then who is going to?
There has to be balance, there can’t be constant victory laps but still, you need to acknowledge the achievement and honor it.
I am not sure if I did.
I am at a point though where I feel surrounded by children no one loves.
And it sucks.
And now that I am not doing shows, in part out of a need to help take care of a toddler, but also the fact that shows are ridiculously expensive now.
I have no idea how other creatives can do it, because I can’t justify it. I can’t justify nearly $500 a show when I’d have to sell dozens and dozens of books to just make that back, and that’s a lot for any author.
Oof.
And it’s hard, hard to be the friend that reaches out.
Always reaches out.
Is always reaching out.
Hard to be the friend that needs people to check on you but they don’t because you start to ask – do they need me? Want me? Care for me?
I dunno.
Maybe.
So many of us are so deep into our own heads though that we feel like no one else knows or cares for us and we push the world out and Covid only made that worse.
It doesn’t make it easier though.
We need each other but won’t reach out.
And sure, some probably don’t need us and don’t reach out because they don’t care, but that’s on them then, isn’t it?
That’s on them.
And as failure sings its familiar song you forget that there are millions of people just like you, going through what you are, living with what you are, and saying the same things you are – what now?
We may be all marching in our solo parades but we march together, don’t we?
All of us lost in the same fog of doubt and unsure where to turn.
For me, I hit the bottom and stay there until the engine kicks on again.
Until something inside me says ‘ENOUGH’ and pulls me up and pushes me forward through the darkness, lifting my hand to take the light in both as I move past the drone of the bell.
Onward because if not, then what?
Give up?
Give in?
Stop fighting?
Stop caring?
I feel like I did that for so long, for so many years as a teenager and somehow I started fighting back and I am glad.
Because the alternative, well, it’s pretty bleak.
If nothing else, at least I have gotten good at failing.
There’s that.
I dunno that there are great lessons to learn from failure, some say there are, and maybe that’s so.
Or maybe not.
What it teaches me though is that I am stronger than I think and more resilient than I realize.
And if I am, then so are you.
There is nothing particularly special about me, but I just keep getting up.
But that’s something.
A huge part of success is that you can keep getting up.
You keep picking up the paintbrush or guitar or pen.
You keep doing what you love.
Even if it’s just for yourself.
The hope is that one day you’ll be doing it for one other person, and then another, and another and maybe you’ll reach the people you’re trying to reach.
Or maybe you don’t, but it’s a hell of a lot better to die knowing you kept fighting and have the scars to show for it than it is to lay down and cover yourself with dirt and let the bullies of the world win.
I dunno how many times I can keep pulling myself up but so long as I can do it, I will.
I hope you will as well.
Because living is about the fight, with ourselves and the world, and while one day we’ll lose, it matters how we lose, and that we went down with a fight.
It matters to us.
…c…
I write books. There are plenty in my bookstore on here. Go look for yourself.
