a priori/a posteriori

Thursday, October 20, 2016

Fear Becomes the Theme

I signed up for a show tonight.

It's been a few months since I've gone onstage.

I get scared at the thought, now.

I still have not sent any edited footage to my editor, 2 years after filming my second special.

Fear just kind of constipates your brain.  I haven't taken an artistic dump in about 4 years. 

That's what art should feel like.  I shouldn't hold it up proudly, and expect everyone else to love it, and fawn over it.

It's just something I had to get out.  I wish I had that distance from it.  I wish I could look at things I create, and not hide behind a corner and wait for someone to find it, and hope they love it.

But it remains a part of my psyche.  A part of me is my ego.  A part of me cares what I am perceived as, by others.

It's frustrating. Because I recognize it is not healthy.  I recognize it clogs the arteries of creativity, and freedom, and especially of growth.

But I just still care what other people think.  I still think of people I met in New York.  People I met in Austin.  People I met in DC.

People from high school, for gosh sake.  People from 15, 20 years ago.  People from lifetimes ago.  The tattoos linger.

The kids at the gym are teaching me to brush off the haters.  Hahaha.  I wish I could have that ability.  It's the healthiest type of arrogance. 

I look for haters on the floor, and in the air, and on the fridge.  And then I pin them to my shoulders.

Somehow -- still, well into my life now -- my brain seems to have more haters than anywhere. 

Is there a way to brush the haters off of your own mind?  Does my mind have shoulders?

My ego gets in the way of my own happiness.  Of my own success. 

I know what my own success looks like.  I know what I want my life to be.  And yet I am not laser-focused on that journey.  Because I am distracted by what that journey looks like to others, every step of the way.

It's hard to improve your time around the track, when you stop to check the clock between each step.

Just run. 
Just run.
Just run.

Stop looking for a finish line.

Just love running.

No comments:

Post a Comment