Coffee talk chatterer: So what do you do?
Me: Me? I am writer.
Coffee person: Oh That’s great! What do you write?
Mw: I write web content, ad copy, I am writing a couple of novels and even a script.
Coffee guy: What have I seen you do?
Me: Well, there’s this thing, and that thing oh and this other thing. And then there’s is the blog I contribute to. And the press releases for al the companies I work for and with. Blah Blah Blah…
But here’s the thing: I am not really writing like I used to. I have been lacking the determination and drive that I am all to used to living with and frankly, I have been a little down. And when I am down, I become quiet. An unnatural state for a person like me. And yet, I found myself letting the world get me down. I began to let the things and people around me dictate how I viewed myself. It had been several years since that happened. Decades almost. I found my voice a while ago and it was being fed. Until recently.
And that was no one’s choice but my own. I began to let my life become what the world decided it would be instead of making my voice heard like the communicator I am gifted to be. You see, I want to make a difference. I want to share the good things and explore the weird worlds that exists and understand people and ideas and cultures that exist all around us. I want to write about them so that you too can begin to appreciate the wonderful world we live in like I have.
I write to share the things in everyday life that are overlooked or looked at with fear and ignorance.
Or with love and enlightenment, whichever happens at the time of inception, as both are beautiful when you look at them in the right way.
Perception is a motivator and it is a killer. Perception is an illusion most of the time, even when we swear we saw what we did and most often perception is filled with lies and mistaken accounts or facts that have become distorted over time and through the eyes and (needs) of the viewer. Perception is a valuable and ludicrous tool we humans have to change and imagine the truth as we see it, even if we are dead wrong.
I have written for non-profits. I have written to inform and to enlighten and to express the views of my client or employer. I have written for my own personal enjoyment and to remember life in the past. I write to eat. I write to love and to share. And lately, I have been either on a massive roll and writing paragraph after stinking paragraph of various projects I started years ago, or I have become blocked.
Lazy, or sometimes afraid of what the world will think.
That is definitely not my state of being. Nor has it been for longer than I can remember. I found my voice and I embraced it a while ago…and yet, I feel unfulfilled. What on earth does any of it mean? I am writing this post to try to find out. Maybe you can help. Maybe you can see something I cannot, or will not. Perception…
For the longest time all I have ever wanted to do was be a writer. But when it came down to it, I sometime can become apathetic, I usually post aimless Facebook posts, often with an attempt at the clever or witty. I believe anyway. I might comment on a friend’s posts. Occasionally I will tweet and pin, post, comment and of course blog. Only to do so out of obligation.
But what for?
What does it all mean? Honestly, at this point I figure if I keep trying to find out the answer to this question, for me, that is, then maybe I will. Maybe I will be enlightened and some epiphany will occur and I will find the answers to every real deep and profound question I have ever asked myself.
Somehow I doubt it. And maybe that is the answer.
But I did learn something recently about myself.
I do still care.
I still want to share with the world. And I have a lot to say. I say the things you think and the things you are sometimes afraid to admit. I say what you wish you could. I am the voice of a generation that learned how to “blog” with a notebook.
I am the voice of the cynical poet and the wordy songwriter.
I am the voice of the mother and the sister and the child. I too am afraid sometimes. I am angry sometimes. I am also an asshole at times and I am okay with that today. I am okay with not pleasing everyone. I am okay with instilling a little fear along with a little hope.
I am the voice of a culture of people who finally stopped giving a shit and began to be who and whatever they were gonna be without concern of the repercussions of their parents or authority figures or society as a whole.
I am old enough to know better but young enough to get away with things.
But no, I shouldn’t wear certain outfits anymore. I really don’t care about what so and so is doing dating what’s-his-face. And if I want to stay in on a Friday night, well, I am finally not worried about what I might be missing. As a thirty something I have lived long enough to make a lot of mistakes and somehow survive them all up to this exact moment. But statistically I have a lot of life left and I am finally okay with doing things however I need to in order to live a good life and love what I do. No matter how far from the current trends I may fall.
In other words, I just don’t give a shit about what you think. I really don’t. I used to say stuff like that to seem cool or mature. I used to hide behind my fear of letting you see me as vulnerable. but it was mostly an all out lie.
Old habits die hard, but what kills me the fastest is shutting hope and love out of my life just because I am afraid….
I cared so much.
When I was young and had less practice being a selfish ass hole, I secretly needed you to like and accept me, even though I couldn’t do it, it was imperative that you did.
How fucked up is that?
Looking back (we are talking decades at this point) I laugh at most of the things I did wrong, if in fact they were ever really “wrong” at all. But today I am just too freakin’ exhausted to care like that anymore. Is this how it is now? I hope so.
I have spent the last little while searching for my voice.
Except I forgot to speak.
And it turns out I didn’t have to go very far to find it. I just had to be tired enough of what I was doing.
Then and only then could I see things for what they really are. And be ok with it. Truly and sincerely.
Perception is amazing because it is so unique to each of us. Yet the commonality is that if I am lucky enough to feel things in life that force me to take a look at my own perception, then I am truly blessed.
It is in struggle I find the path of least resistance. It is in controversy that I find the common ground. It is through the chaos that I find the calm waters ahead.
Without these strifes I become narrow in my thoughts and when my vision is short and tunneled I never get to see the sun because I never look above the ground.
Perceptions are a real bitch sometimes.