A life lesson from Incubus’ Brandon Boyd — even diamonds start as coal

Exhausted. Drained. A little burnt-out. And a lot discouraged. I had a big writing week laid out with three main features going live on April 12, 14 and 15. I put a lot of effort, research and me into each of them as I always do. Often into the insane hours of the night (or morning) after getting home from work, putting the kids to bed and devouring something like dinner.Though these were fun, time-sensitive pieces that showcased accomplishments, they still followed some of the same monotonous post-practices — promote on social media sites, send tp the applicable parties to push, PR firms, put on social media again, check messages, hope for messages, check messages, promote again, etc.

Admittedly, I expected quite the return. I just had a feeling one if not two or three of these articles would be my striking gold. I even had the audacity to write Brace Yourself in my notebook. Brace yourself meaning, stay calm and be sound. Not “you’re the man,” everyone is going to come crawling to you.

Well, it’s over and done with. I’m proud of the effort and think they are quality pieces. But really nothing happened. Some nice responses for sure and honestly, I consider it a privilege to write and have the creative platform that I do. I also have confidence in my work, approach and creativity. Still, no seven figure phone call. I couldn’t help but feel like shriveled balloon remnants after being poked by a slim needle.

I spent the afternoon (while at my other full-time pay the bills “real” job) thinking about writing. Is it worth it? Can I support a family with this? What’s the big picture? There has to be more than this? I refuse to enter the rat race. I’m doing this my way. If I continue, which path to push this down? What the fuck I am doing?

About 2 miles from my house and a cold beer, the thoughts couldn’t be heavier. It’s a beautiful night with a crystal clear sundown, glimmering upon the water like diamonds strewn across a blue blanket. I casually and subconsciously look out the upper left portion of my windshield while stopped at a red light.

Here’s what I see:

I’m sitting in the dark with a scotch right now, listening to Incubus, lightly in the background. I remember something Brandon Boyd said to me back in December. As we’re discussing all his artistic outlets (he’s a renowned artists in addition to being an incredible musician) Boyd explains to me that you can not push your inspirations. You have to just let it flow. You can’t sit down and say “I will write this song right now” or “I will paint a picture that looks exactly like this.” You have to just grab your pen, instrument, ink or canvas and as he put it — Trust Your Hand. Let it naturally spill out of you.

I’m constantly thinking about that blue Mini with the WRITE plate. For me and for writing, I take Boyd’s words as — I have to let the writing hold the wheel and drive. I can’t push it down a certain path. I have to let it pour out from the soul and give it the respect it deserves to lead in the direction I’m supposed to go as opposed to squishing it in my hands like silly putty so that it fits into the shape I think it should be.

Just keep writing. Your words will guide you.

Deep breath. Another sip (or glass) of scotch, kiss the sleeping kids and wife, then maybe some sleep.

Tomorrow — rip today’s picture off the canvas paper easel. Start a new one.

The sweetest things, they burn before they shine. Even diamonds start as coal — diamonds & coal, incubus song randomly on as I write

Do me a favor — hit the green down there if you dug this.Follow Jeff Gorra on Twitter here:

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