A SEARCH

Output is funny. For a long time I put out anything just for the sake of. That was fine for awhile and it produced a lot. To be honest, more than I thought possible. I’d say I’ve found a balance, but that’s not right. Balance implies stability, and that’s not exactly it. I still feel off kilter a lot. Maybe I’m being a little choosy. Maybe not. 

As I have returned to training in earnest, I find my morning quiet time diminished. I’ve had a couple of days this week where I wanted to write but didn’t have the time between 4-6 a.m., the dark “witching” hours in which I seem to produce my best work.  I have time during the rest of the day for sure but for whatever reason I seem to crave the darkness to produce. The light of my phone creating a cylinder from my eyes to my thumbs. Tapping. Tapping. 

It’s funny. With two high schoolers a household and a business, an extra laptop was required so that I wasn’t driving back and forth to the house to work. I’ve sat in front of this new glossy machine multiple times over the last 3 weeks or so and written exactly one thing. It turns out I actually create and type better and as fast with my thumbs. When I pull out all the fingers for the task the thoughts mire between my mind and my phalanges. Clumsy. Thoughtless. In the dark, white letters and the black backdrop of “dark mode” converge and things happen. 

I’ve also found that the same worrisome tendency to hurry up and finish has entered my writing. Once a story or idea ventures out towards the deep end of 500 words, I start clambering to finish it. To hurry and be done so that I can...be done I guess. I’ve sat down to write more elaborate pieces because I’m capable and because that exploration is needed, but per the usual, it’s “too much”. I have things to do. Or that’s what the lizard brain tells the rest of me. “Finish it! Hurry! Get done! Now you can look at the news or something.”  The “next big thing” or “book you said you’d write” left to the next time. 

The next time. 

The. Next. Time. 

This past week I spent some time with a guy I’ve know for 25 years. I consider him a friend for sure, our personalities so similar and different that despite not spending much time together, we fall into good conversations, our lives guided by similar experiences. He now works as a consultant that helps businesses/business people, figure out issues. Through that process they use personality tests and the like to help identify peoples strengths and modus operandi so they can put people in the right seats at the table. He offered to send me the test. Ever the introspective, I obliged. 

A few days later we sat in a conference room and dove into me. For some this process is a little bit surprising as the test is simple. “How does that work?  How’d they get that from that?” they ask, thinking for sure they had muffed up the thing and that the results would be off. The results are never off. I sat and listened and saw, again, who I am. 

I was neither surprised or enlightened very much by the results. The results articulating what I and those who know and interact with me already knew.  This isn’t to say I’m not thankful to see it again. It’s more that for me, knowing how and why I am how I am, doesn’t lessen the being of whom  that is on the daily. It’s like having the final answers to math problems but not knowing how to recreate doing them again. 

For many this process brings clarity, and to be clear I’m open to it and hopeful for some of that. I always think of clarity as inhaling Vick’s vapor rub, I wish it would cleanse and compartmentalize my mind. Opening up the allergy filled corners of my brain so that there would be succinct line drawings to follow. Countless “if, then” scenarios clarifying how and what to do in most situations. It’s not though. Clarity for me is less clear thought than overwhelming emotions pushing me forward. Clarity equals details.  Emotion equals uncertainty and floods of urge to do things we(I)  feel are important to do. For me, you, for the world (self important much?). 

Clarity is what I am grasping for. Relentless and constantly. 

So yes. I know more about who I am. I still question what I’m to do with that knowledge in relation to where I am. 

I sometimes wonder if this “whole thing” is just me or is it everyone? I’ve asked this before but with regards to depression. Thankfully, that piece of me has quieted for the time. What I mean is that I’m curious if everyone questions everything all day everyday. Even when achieving and getting things done, is a piece of their focus splintered sideways, considering and interrogating the value and meaning of every move, a constant search to apply a “why”?  It’s natural to question I think, but maybe some people go to work at the dry cleaners and hang shirts all day and then go do something they enjoy after work, never once considering if there’s anything more than hanging shirts. I sometimes long for that. 

My wife and I were talking about things the other day and she said she was sorry. That it must be exhausting to be in my mind all day. I answered simply that it was, but that it’s okay. It’s all that I have ever known. 

I’ve been given enormous gifts. The ability to create things people love and that bring meaning to their lives. I’ve been able to build a platform of health that gives people hope for their health. I am able to create and perform music and these writings, hopefully giving people something to relate to. To show them that they aren’t alone. Just because there’s struggle doesn’t mean I also don’t recognize I am “rich” beyond what I deserve. So none of this is “woe is me”.  

It’s just me. 

Talking it out. 

With me. And you. 

And the dark. 

#hugsandhi5s