In my last post, I was going off about how I’m not going to wait anymore. But pondering on that statement, I think it’s a bit presumptuous for me to think I will never have to wait again. The dog is standing on the only dry piece of concrete in sight, waiting for the door to open. This really feels like my entire life sometimes. How many times have I waited for something to happen, because I feel powerless to change my immediate circumstances.
Case in point: This month marked the ending of many things I had become comfortable with. My divorce papers came in the mail. My job is switching from a permanent to a permanent intermittent position, due to the plans I had made before tour. I’m not going on tour. Even my comfortable memory foam mattress that I spent half my life on the past year and a half got ruined by mold, apparently a problem with tempurpedic mattresses in general. And if we want to add insult to injury, there was this guy…
Yea, you know the story. Another bruise to my precious overzealous ego.
So, granted, I feel like that animal pictured above. Waiting amidst a flood for the door to open. Yet, I still have a band. I still have a job and a room to rent. I still have food. I have instruments and friends and my health. Mostly, I’m just waiting for fulfillment, whatever that means. Always searching. And all the aforementioned things could also disappear in a flash. Nothing is guaranteed. Life IS uncertain. Ego is just ego. In the end, it just doesn’t matter what you looked like, more how much you loved, what your energy was like, what you left behind in the whole collective for the future of the world.
Maybe. I mean, maybe THAT doesn’t even matter. Who knows. I learned a lot this year, grew a lot regardless. Maybe things will change and I’ll stop waiting for the door to open, or maybe life is always waiting for a door to open. Or maybe all the doors I’ve ever wanted to open will open. Maybe the universe totally has my back and saved me from a lot more pain by giving me these changes at this point in time. Maybe my path is not even something I can fathom, and I am focusing too hard on trying to figure it out.
So…yea. Tell me about your month. Maybe you have a good story that can cheer me up, about your own artistic pursuits.