Yesterday, I played a concert in a tiny, cozy restaurant. The perfect location for a person in stress recovery. I knew earlier that day, that I should have cancelled and rested instead, but the loyalty to my word came first, so I did it. The post-concert fatigue is quite large and when I finally woke up today, after about twelve hours of sleep, I had trouble breathing automatically. My muscles are like half-dead snakes and my head is in a semi-realistic state.
I’ve given up on becoming healthy, given up on becoming a career musician, given up on socializing with friends and family, given up on a social life in general, given up on getting back to work, given up on being an entrepreneur and most importantly, given up on becoming a non-tired dad.
Having that said, I am damn grateful for being a reflective introvert. Even as I lie flat on the couch like a hydrated zombie, I’m still being entertained by flashing thoughts and my ability to dissect these thoughts into cause and reaction.
By abandoning the majority of my current life and perhaps my future life, with nothing to look forward to, I will grant my head the authority to heal itself. Every experience we have is like a little seed, that gathers other experiences around itself, grows to be a tree and is placed somewhere in the forest of our psyche. The earlier the experience, the bigger the tree and the more traumatic, the more nutrients it will suck from the ground.
Neurotic connections out of balance, I see as friction, like an egg tray, filled with liquid eggs that tremble as you carry that tray around. All of this becomes a catalyst, for whatever you’re made of. I’m mostly made of negativity, orchestrated in harmony between myself and my surroundings. My desire to succeed is strictly based on the fact that successful people are positive in attitude and I yearn to be near them.
By taking a very long holiday from family and friends, years and decades if I have to, these tight connections can be loosened up, the friction can be eased out and the catalysts replaced with a different foundation. Perhaps I can even thin out the forest in my head and plant brand new seeds of super trees, unaffected by the botanical disharmony inside, upstairs.
I have no idea what lies beyond giving up, if anything at all but perpetual defeat, but it’s worth a shot. This won’t actually change my current life one bit, it simply removes the pressure of expecting things to change when they can’t.
Please bear in mind, I’m not depressed, this is a strategic decision, based on inspiration to experiment with a new direction to get my energy back. And by no means take this article as advice, it’s just one step of many in progress and probably a horrible idea to exercise without the bigger picture of one’s personal situation understood.
The only takeaway I recommend is: “Take it easy on expectations if you can’t deliver at the moment.”