Sometimes I wish I'd picked a normal profession, the kind that accompanies a normal life, like a doctor or lawyer or some job that has a path where A+B=C. But I was not that fortunate (or smart, perhaps). I've wondered from time to time what it must feel like to know where you'll be in six months and what you'll be earning and to have the stability of knowing that your days off remain the same ones each week and that vacation time is a predetermined few weeks a year.
But none of the things I do come with that certainty. They don't come with any certainty. In fact, they come with a blank page on which to create a life with no predetermination whatsoever. On my better days I consider that liberating, but lately as I've been branching out to things other than songwriting (like this blog, for instance), I have found myself, let's see, how can I tactfully put it - freaking out.
For starters, if you haven't already tried this, as soon as you decide to undertake a new endeavor, one that involves risk and creativity, but that has a big pay off, if only personally if not financially, people will come out of the woodwork to try and dissuade you. And I do mean woodwork. You will be amazed at how much discouragement is readily available at your fingertips. There will be reasons you didn't even know existed for why you can't or shouldn't even attempt to do whatever it is you want to do. Seriously.
On the up side, I've lived long enough to know that people get very uncomfortable when you disrupt their status quo. I mean, if you have the audacity to go for your dreams, it shines a glaring light on everyone else who hasn't gone for their own. And it's not an intentional glaring light. It's an incidental one, which makes it even worse.
I keep telling myself that I am not responsible for other people's discomfort, but their discomfort seemed far easier to disregard in my youth. Now it's harder and harder to tune out the voices. It's way easier to think, "Yeah, you know, I think you're right. Why bother?"
So today I'm going to get quiet for a few minutes, quiet enough to drown out all the naysayers, and think about what I really want. Maybe it's to start ballroom dancing again. Maybe it's to retrieve the person who writes songs that actually mean something. Maybe it's to get In Search of George Stephanopoulos published despite the fact that I'm not a celebrity and despite that fact that he's Stephanopoulos and not Clooney.
So I'm off - off to reacquaint myself with the notion that anything is possible. Off to remind myself that no one is in charge of my destiny but me. Off to realign with my intention to serve this world in the unique way that I was created to.
Since this is both Holy Week and Passover, I'm going to free myself from the bondage of limited thinking and resurrect the dreams that live in my heart. In doing so, I hope that I will be sending out that cosmic permission for you to do the same in your own lives.
Thank you for stopping by, and please tell your friends.