I seriously am having a case of nerves every time I update this blog lately due to the amount of people I know personally who are reading it.
I’m a tough girl. I lift kettlebells and hike giant hills, I would rather punch someone in the mouth than put up with bullshit, but when it comes to updating this blog I am lately going, “Eeee!” like a little pansy. And it’s just some words from my brain we’re dealing with here.
I had this problem a few months back when I was doing kettlebell competitions and writing about the competitions I was going to—how kettlebell relates to writing, etc–which made my readership expand for a period of time. A lot of my fellow trainees started reading my blog, and then I’d have to see them in training, where they would ask me questions about what I wrote on the blog and I would be like, “Um, can we like, type about this or something? The face to face discussion of my blog topics is a little awkward.”
I do admit, I like to spend a lot of time alone, although I am social 50% of the time. But. There’s this crazy need in me to always speak my mind no matter what the consequences. I say things here, people read them, things happen as a result of me saying things here and I freak out and think a lot of things about those things I said and ask, “Who am I?” “Why must I be so vocal?” In the end, I leave my opinions up, my real friends stick around, and all the drive-by judgers go on drive-by judging me and the guy who hands them coffee in the morning and their own girlfriends/boyfriends and the raccoon trying to steal food from their garbage can at night like they always do.
Mostly lately I am just trying to stay strong in my own orbit and really go after my desires (the ones that aren’t completely crazy), like music and of course, writing. This blog is supposed to talk about music, art, writing, and generally give you all a pep talk or morale boost through my own myopic perspective of the world, my rainbow-unicorn-pony idealism veiled under a thick tar veneer of cynicism. This blog could even be called Pep Talks To My Own Damn Self That You Can Also Read If You Are So Inclined.
I’m always focused on the end result it seems. What am I DOING to reach my goals, have I done enough, when will I GET THERE already. But There is like a magic carpet ride. Exciting prospect but virtually impossible to make happen.
I’m sure we all remember the days when we believed we could actually ride on a magic carpet, that the world was all ours (oh, say, ages 2, 3, 19 and 20). But then time goes and goals aren’t reached immediately, except through hard work and dedication, and we look around us and realize, OMG, um, so many people have to work HELL OF HARD to reach their goals.
And then we buck up and start working hell of hard as well, one little piece at a time.
Seems a lot of my friends in their forties are having successes with their work. A couple of my friends in that category just got a bunch of work published. This writer I have been getting to know better in Portland is traveling all over the place and writing for big rags, I have a friend who just got an amazing summer gig playing for one of his favorite bands that will bring in a bunch of dough as well as give him major cred. My kettlebell coach friend just achieved her master of sport in the snatch lift after training and training and training. They’ve worked for years and years and years, with little to no end of working in sight (and are still working on the next thing now).
I’m proud to be friends with these people and to be able to see all of the hard work they have put in turn into success. And I look at my own life and see that if I continue to pick myself up every time I get knocked back, I too may reach some of the goals I have set for myself over the past years, albeit much more slowly than I ever would have imagined.
I can’t give up. Ever. I can entertain the thought of giving up for a minute, but then must banish it immediately by stabbing it to death with a mental spork. Then, if I’m feeling lost and aimless, I can ask myself if I am doing everything I can to move myself forward towards the goals I’ve set out for myself. And I can make my goals clearer if they are too vague. And I can blame being a Gemini if I can’t focus on just a few goals and instead want to do everything all at once, because that’s socially acceptable here on the West Coast.
Sometimes I believe I create sheerly out of neurosis. I am kind of insane, and have a lot more energy than most people. I also see and feel on a level that makes me want to barricade myself in the middle of a jungle sometimes with no humans around to affect my moods, but all in all, it’s a good life, just hard, and a lot of work. I feel like whenever I set my sights on something I am tested again and again, the universe making sure I want what I want before it gives it to me, and in the past, I kind of fell down in the ring a bunch of times, or just got tired of fighting. I blame genetic pessimism.
So now I’m fighting in baby steps, trying not to have too many expectations, but also seeing how each action I take influences my chances at success, and surrounding myself with only people who believe in me being able to be who I am. It’s really hard to be the first authority on believing in yourself, but I’m here to say that there is no other authority on what you yourself can do, and everyone has an opinion. It’s good to learn from others, but to always check back in and make sure that you are going where you want to go and your work is saying/portraying what you want it to say/portray. There are always people better and more advanced and more skilled and committed and beautiful and charismatic and successful. As my friends always tell me, “That’s life.”
So keep fighting. Don’t give up. No one else is going to believe in you like you can believe in yourself. You’ve got to have your own back, because that’s the first step to actually moving forward on your path. If you have no faith in your own work, your work is pretty much dead in the water.