The strobe of the lightning was hitting like a European disco last night. All that was missing was that special brand of non-descript French EDM music to pulse along with the thunder. Not terrible, but certainly not songs you’d ever hear and ask who the artist was. I’ve never been to a European disco so this is all massive conjecture and assumption, two skills in which I thrive. My point with the above is that the rain woke me up.  

My return to writing has been rocky this week and I realized why. Time. 1000 words takes anywhere from 30-60 mins for me to write, IF I can think of anything to say. I need to get up at 4 am to get that amount of time uninterrupted. I am not willing as of yet to arise that early. Maybe this week. 

For the last few months I’d say my creative output has been more focused on music, but that’s being generous with myself. The band I’ve been playing with for the better part of a year has been honing demos and getting better at the process but the time to do so is scarce. I have taken a couple vocal lessons which has been as terrible as you’d imagine. Completely self taught for the last 30 years and with a head full of allergies which make it hard to hear, I struggle with basics. To compound it, we do the lessons via FaceTime, a technology I refuse to embrace and hate to use. I’m committed to getting better so I’m doing it but it’s cringe worthy. 

What’s been mostly devoid the last few months is the outward purpose that usually motivates me. This is troubling on a lot of levels. I am excited about work in the race world that’s advancing and though the previous paragraph reads like it’s going poorly, I feel like my songwriting and ability is better than it’s ever been. There just seems to be an overarching “now what” in the air. Like I’m a barely a player in the things that are occurring day to day. This is a bizarre feeling. Faking it

I met with a friend yesterday and in the past most of our talks end with me electrified, talking about ideas and what’s next. He asked me what’s next and for the first time in maybe 20 years I said, “nothing”. This is either a sign of maturing or of the coming apocalypse because I never say nothing. Ever. 

It makes me wonder if this is how a lot of people think. That they just go through the motions of doing day offer day. It scares me a little as I wonder if I’m just getting tired. It reminds me over and over that I am exhausting. It also reminds me that I’m in control if I just apply the force of my will to it. 

But to what. 

That’s the thing I’m battling I think. What will excite me (you). For a very long time I’ve spent the time creating this life I think I wanted.  Fitness/health guy I guess is the best definition. I coach people and help them achieve their goals. I created a restaurant that serves great food as well as a winning attitude and sets out to make people’s days better. I get to design t-shirts and branded merchandise for most of our races and get to do anything I want with these lines. It’s part creative part business and can be fun and I answer only to my friends as business partners. I get to coach my son and his friends in both XC and track and field and watch them excel and learn to be better through sport. I get to create and write music again, and will be able to get on stage in a not too distant future to perform these songs, one of the greatest rushes there is. I have an awesome loving wife, kids, and mom with ample friendships, more than anyone could want. 

And yet the overarching theme of my life is that it’s missing something. That there lies a hole that needs to be filled. This is maddening to those who love me. Shit. It’s maddening to me, but that doesn’t make it any less true.

In the past I would write these posts and nonchalantly throw them into the universe with an inflated sense of importance of how it would help others. I still want that for sure, but after many times where that worth falls flat against the uneasy feelings they give my family and friends. I must consider how things like this may make them feel. Like “why aren’t we enough for you?” They of course are more than enough. The nag lies within. It’s a dissatisfaction with an invented person living in my head. With the person that was created as who we were going to be when we grew up. We based that person on the outside world, we tried to achieve the things that they said were important. What’s funny to me is that I didn’t become any of them. While adept enough to exist in a world I don’t necessarily fit into, I’ve created a life that’s successful on most levels, but not in a traditional sense. Perhaps that’s where my friction comes from; where yours comes from. With trying to fit into something else instead of just accepting how great we really have it. 

I think that’s supposed to be called acceptance. It would be easy if that notion wasn’t framed on all sides by self doubt and my needs for more, but recognizing it is a good step.

Even if we feel like we are faking it a lot of days, and aren’t sure about the others we must take the time to breathe in and recognize the good we have. To cherish it. To soak it up. 

There will be plenty of time to wish for and become something else when we grow up. You’d just better be sure you aren’t just doing something else while being the same thing you are now. 

Maybe I shoulda just slept in. 

#hugsandhi5s