Back in the New York Groove.
Today, I begin to feel inspired again. I feel like I say and do this a lot. Have these short bursts on inspiration where I’m like yea, I’m going to commit to being creative again. Then a new day dawns and I’m on the couch three seasons deep into The Good Wife and living on my futon.
Anyways so lately I’ve been listening to a lot of podcasts. (Please keep modern hipster comments to yourself.) I really do find them inspiring in a way. Podcasts are essentially making thoughts and opinions cool again in a less confrontational way. I’m interested in many theme’s but, I have my “faves”. Listening to people having intelligent, and honest conversations is like spinach for my brain. I soak in and relish the nutrients that are heard, feeling my mind grow stronger. It’s refreshing to hear regular conversations being had by people without qualifications. I know I just used this description, but honesty is really what describes them. The podcasts I personally listen to anyways. It’s like settling into a good book, but feeling more apart of the story. They inspire me enough to think that one day I can execute a show myself.
Im trying a new this new thing; putting myself out there. Allowing myself to feel the feels and see the sights. What I mean about that is, I tend to mask myself and my emotions A LOT. I don’t think its on purpose, I’m what my best friend likes to call “a fixer.” I think the metaphor cleaning sponge is better. I like to soak in the spirits of others and try to mould myself to their needs in order to help or “clean.” I have always been good at reading people, my mother once told me I should go into marketing or therapy because I know what people want. I lose myself in the lives of others. Which can be amazing, but it can also drown out my own. This puts my dreams on the back burner and the I lose the will and interest to achieve them.
Trust me, when I have the drive to achieve something it’s a full force effort to make it happen. However over the years of spending my time focusing on others, I lost the focus on myself. Now it feels like I’m coming out a 10 year coma, learning again how my life operates. Re-prioritizing my life brings me fear like you wouldn’t believe. In past experiences, the best way I have over come my fears is to jump right in and confront them. In college when I was studying drama I would get terrible stage fright. I could feel my heart beating in my ears blurring out the world around me, the feeling of cotton in my mouth, and the sweat. MY GOD the sweat. You may not of known I was nervous unless you saw the copious amounts of fluid leaving all available pores. Gross I know, I apologize for the graphic imagery. Then one day, I realized that the frozen fear before my cue was what I loved most about acting. Like I could harness that shit Black Beauty style and ride that majestic horse into the applause of my performance. Then somewhere along the way, it’s like that horse got too expensive and I had to sell it to a stable where it sat for years. Depressingly awaiting for her next rider. So, and we are clearly rolling with this metaphor, I have come back to the forgotten stables with the currency of courage in an attempt to break in my neglected horse.
I started small, writing when I had the urge. Keeping in tune to things around me that inspire. When you get down to it though in order to commit, you have to commit. I must put myself back out there, stage fright and all to face to my cue. I am a creative person. I cannot deny it any longer and unless I spell that out to myself then it won’t be real. One must put themselves in the face of fear regardless of the potential rejection of their peers. I must sweat it out in order to achieve my goals, and focus on my own soul, no matter who see’s those pit stains.
So with this, I dip my toe in the blogosphere. I can’t say what I write will always make sense or be grammatically correct. I can’t say it will make everyone laugh or satisfy the daily need of drama. What I can say is that whatever I write will be honest, and it will be for me and no one else.
Of course, you’re always welcome to read regardless… that’s blogging right? ✌🏼️