Outside Validation

Boy, we sure love to think of ourselves as self-sustaining, confident need-nothings.

It's obviously an ego-based idea, and that's why it's so common.

Sure, we can get by for a while on our own, doing our own thing, making our own way, but eventually our subconscious social nature sneaks up on us and demands attention.

You know that picture you drew? The one you spent all of that time on? The one you're really proud of? Are you really sure it's good?

You know how you like to think of yourself as a really intelligent person? Are you really sure you are?

You think you're pretty funny too, don't you? What if you aren't?

Just like most things, encouragement from an outside source can make or break our image of ourselves and inspire us to strive for more, or completely give up.

So are we really that dependent on the approval of others?

I don't know, what do you think?

...(waiting desperately).

WHERE'S DEPRECATION BEEN MAN?

I'm a pathetic whore for outside validation.

I had my sad realization that I was not the cool rebel that I thought myself to be a while ago.

As a relevant example, I'll look at this very blog. *Does*

Before I decided to really put a good deal of effort into writing my silly observations on myself and the world on a consistent basis, I was of the mind that my sporadic essays on random things we're unappreciated and unread, or even hated (that one hasn't changed).

Generally my posting frequency was about one blog every three months.

It wasn't until someone I knew directly told me that not only had he read my blogs, but he actually enjoyed what I had to say!

*spit take*

Wha?

I was honestly confused and beside myself (and confused). Someone actually read that crap, and somehow, seemed to enjoy my emotionally-laden perspectives on things?

He asked me when I was going to post again, and seemed to show genuine interest, not just that "I'm being nice to you, but I don't really want to read more of your stupid blogs" thing.

It was small, short and simple.

And that stuck with me.

Things were suddenly different. I had an audience now. Someone enjoyed what I did, and I now had new motivation to do it more often.

See?

Did I have the confidence in myself to just go for it on my own? No. It took an encouraging word from someone else to inspire me.

Thanks Edy!

FREUD SUPPORTS YOU, LITTLE FELLA

It's interesting how far of an impact not getting the approval we seek can have.

I have friends whose parents never supported them in their creative endeavors.

They (not the parents) had a talent and a passion for music, or art or something creative, and even when they (not the parents) showed great improvements and excitement for what they (not the parents) were doing, they (the parents) would not get even the slightest "That sounds/looks really good!" or "You're really improving," or the very enthusiastic, "Would you play/write/draw something for me?"

It's really quite Freudian. Constantly seeking that elusive missing validation from those you most wanted it from. In many cases, our own parents.

So what about this said impact from lack of outside validation?

Well, those very same friends who never got encouraged, yet were so full of talent, are struggling and conflicted now.

I often hear stories from these people about their previous home lives, and the lack of support their parents "showed" them regarding their hobbies, and passions. They (not the parents) want to work on their areas of talent, but it's quite apparent how much discouragement has rubbed off on them (from their parents).

Sometimes all it takes is a small word of enthusiasm and support to send someone off in a better direction.

A simple positive word for the child can go a long way towards inspiring them, just as a negative word can go a long way towards derailing them.

Does that mean there is a direct correlation between encouragement and success? Or at least encouragement and drive?

Well, it appears, in my non-scienfic studies, that there is something.

How much I'm not sure.

By the way, that picture you drew really sucks.

YOU'RE SO CONFIDENT

"I don't care what people think about me!"

I'm sure you've heard people who say such bold statements, usually loudly, and in the company of many.

Perhaps you, yourself, have said the same thing before?

As I mentioned in the preamble, it's a common thought for many of us that we're independent rebels, who need no approval or permission from anyone to do anything.

Right?

Yeah!

...man.

If you wear certain clothes, perhaps clothes that people around you do not wear, you may get a playful jab, or even a threatening insult from those who disapprove.

Most of us are quite conscious of this, and take these things to heart.

But some of us, feel compelled to respond with the ever-so-cool "I don't give a shit what others think about me! I just do my own thing."

Whoa!

Awesome!

You really are totally self-confident!

I mean, you proved me wrong man.

...Except for the fact that you are not only lying to those that overhear the statement, but to yourself as well.

Why?

Think of it this way:

If you really did not care about the opinions of others, then why did you proclaim, so loudly, in front of as many people as possible, your proud defiance of validation from your peers? Hmmm?

Could you, by chance, be seeking approval and respect for the fact that you claim to seek no approval or respect?

People could be pretty impressed by your self confidence, don't you think?

No, of course not.

My fault.

That was stupid.

You don't care what everyone else thinks of you.

(You just want their approval for appearing to not care what they think).

VALIDATING ENVINITY

One of my most vulnerable areas is also, obviously, one of my most confident areas.

My music.

Specifically my music project Envinity.

It's a strange and violent mix of emotions and perspectives that go into how I feel about what I do.

If you've read many of my recent blogs, you'll know that I talk a lot about dichotomy.

Two opposing opinions or emotions on the same topic.

And music delivers this for me in spades (straight flush bitches!).

It is within this extremely narrow niche that I am the most cocky, over-confident and powerful. When I create, I feel like a God. It's as if I will a unique universe into being with just my mind.

Oh man, it can be an amazing feeling!

And it's not just the creation.

It's music in general.

I usually feel that I know more about music composition than those around me. That I understand broader concepts about how music affects people psychologically and emotionally (hey, I told you I can be cocky here).

Now that I've got all of that out of the way, we get to the ever-popular dichotomy part.

Even though I'm able to feel so self-assured and confident in my abilities as a composer, it's also, as I said earlier, the area in which I'm most sensitive and fragile.

You'd think all of that confidence I just spoke of would allow me to remain steadfast in my opinion of my own creations, but they don't.

Any dissenting vote, or nay sayer will almost instantly cripple me emotionally, and turn me from the most cocky, arrogant person, into the most insecure, confused, and broken person.

Additionally, I never really feel that something I've done is worth a damn, until a complete stranger validates it for me.

Not a friend. Not a band member. Not family.

A complete stranger. With no reason to say anything positive, other than the fact that they truly like it.

So why can't I just stick to my guns, when I know that something I've done is good?

OUTSIDE VALIDATION AS A TOOL

Although most of this probably sounds like outside validation is some kind of weakness, or that it's a crutch for those that are not confident enough in themselves, outside validation can actually be a valuable tool, if used in the right way and with the right people.

One of my first good blogs close to my current writing style, was a blog written at the end of 2008 called, "Self Perception: What A Beautiful Thing!" In essence it was a blog written out of the then startling realization that we generally see ourselves quite inaccurately compared to the person we are in the world.

More specifically, in my view, self perception is how we would LIKE to see ourselves.

And since we cannot ever see ourselves without the bias of BEING ourselves, we need to rely on outside validation to confirm or deny our preconceptions of who we think we are.

Using outside validation in this way requires that you have a friend or family member
that you trust, and most importantly, a person who is not afraid to tell you the truth, even when they know it may not make you feel good emotionally.

Watch for other's reactions to what you do and say. Does that reflect the image you have of yourself?

How do people treat you, and what does that say about who you are, or how you act?

Were you even aware that you act that way, or say things like that?

I bet you weren't.

The never-ending quest to discover who you really are is one of the most important journeys you can ever attempt. (So says me).

And having things within yourself validated from an outside source, can help you see more accurately the person you really are.

Potentially.

THIN-SKINNED AND FRAGILE

I see now, that I am more sensitive and fragile than I previously thought.

I have a stunning track record of giving up easily in the face of opposition (in some areas, not all). The slightest negative comment sends me spinning for days, weeks, or even months (some I've held onto for years).

All this shows me, is my lack of confidence in myself. My lack of trust in my own ideas. Yes, there are times when I can exude, true or not, a sort of charismatic determination and confidence in my own ideas, but it's not the norm.

It would be nice to not be so needy of outside validation for everything I do, and everything I am.

Why do I devalue myself so?

Where does this fragility come from?

Why does my own opinion of something not suffice?

Why do I place such emphasis on a word from others?

Throughout this last year or so, my weaknesses (which are plentiful), have come welling up to the surface, ripe for self-examination.

And this is but one of them.

But is it also one of yours?

Are we really as independent, confident, and self-assured as we would like to think we are?

Perhaps you may be, but I'm definitely not.

Well, unless you think I am, because I value your opinion.


Related blogs:
Focus On My What?
Your Self Projection Had Potential!
I Resent Your Happiness
Run In With The Beautiful People
Self Perception: What A Beautiful Thing!

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The Ebb And Flow... And Ebb

And flow.

It's trite and overused (which is why I'm using it), but there is an old adage that says, "the only thing constant is change."

I think I've experienced enough of life so far to see that everything in my existence has been somehow cyclical. My emotions, perspectives, motivations, interests, even my underwear.

Only a few months back I went through one of my lowest periods ever. To mark the special occasion I wrote a blog about the idea of suicide (It's whimsical and joy-filled. I suggest you read it).

Then I found myself swept up in a sudden flurry of busyness with creative projects, and discovered that my personal satisfaction seemed to be closely tied to my personal productivity.

Now that I've just released my 3rd album, I'm again plunged back into the murky waters of aimless confusion, depression, and restlessness.

So will I forever be stuck in an extreme game of either or, one or the other? Or can a middle ground ever be found? If it can be found do I want it?

It seems that change, is indeed constant.

INPUT AND OUTPUT PHASES

One cycle that has been quite prominent in my life lately is that of the input and output phases.

At the end of 2008 I went through a huge input phase, where all I could do was read, and read some more.

One book led to three, three to five, and five to ten. I felt like a sponge for new knowledge. I watched hundreds of online documentaries and Youtube videos, and researched brand new intellectual territory for me.

It was wonderful. I felt alive. On fire.

It was like a thirst that could never be quenched.

Eventually I became so full with new ideas and information, that I needed to put some of that new found energy back out into the world.

And that's when everything flipped.

No longer did I crave new knowledge. Now all I cared about was creating something.

Again I was consumed with my own projects, driven by an unseen force, perhaps madness itself, to continually create, to channel all of this new energy into something substantial.

When I get really into an output phase, I almost shut off regular life completely. I hardly talk to friends, I almost never go out of the house, and I have no respite or relaxation (or for the kids, "chilaxation"). It's all about the project for that point in time, and nothing else.

And then the project is done.

I'm empty. I'm spent.

I can't start a new project yet until I fill up again.

But I can't fill up again until I feel the itch.

Which leaves me at the bottom of curve, with nothing.

...Except a sandwich.

EMOTIONAL HIGHS AND LOWS

I don't think anyone wants to say that they're bipolar, so I tend to describe myself as prone to intense mood swings.

Totally different.

But it does not change the fact that I'm depressed again.

Apparently that didn't take long.

My emotional high and lows are sometimes connected to my input and output phases.

But not always.

I've had great emotional highs during all-consuming input phases where I'm excited about the new things I'm learning, as well as during productive output phases where I'm creating something new, and vice versa with emotional lows. (No, it's not "vice-a versa", nor is it "ying" yang).

I have moments where I am elated and triumphant, where I feel that I can accomplish anything (which usually don't last long), and then I can plunge into the depths of depression and anger, where everything is hopeless and bleak.

Just like Colorado weather. We can have sun, rain, snow, and sun again in the same day. It makes no sense. And neither do most of my emotions (those stupid fuckers).

I should see by now that I live a life of EXTREMES DUDE!!!! (No, no, no. I'm not that cool. Just emotional extremes. But out of curiosity, did you just picture me snowboarding off of a mountain top in slow motion clutching a Mountain Dew?).

I picture my emotional path like a sine wave.

A continual up and down of experience.

And even though I have been this way since puberty, perhaps even before, I still don't feel comfortable with it.

My extreme lows still bother me greatly, and always feel so unexpected, even though, by now, they should be expected.

I'm not going to change my emotional psyche, so all I can do is learn to accept my fluctuating emotional states, and use them to my benefit when they arrive.

I'll let you know how that goes.

SOCIAL AND ANTISOCIAL

Yet another in my ebb and flow cycles.

For the most part, I've always considered myself NOT a people person.

Perhaps it is because I spend so much time alone, and that most of my real passions are 85% solitary.

Sure, that makes sense, but there's more to it. (I'm sure you saw that coming).

I have a self-perpetuation cycle of not understanding people, fearing people, not liking people, and then purposefully pushing myself away from them which causes more lack of understanding et cetera.

But even with that in mind, I am still a human being (sadly), and humans are social creatures. I can't fight it (well), it's in our brains. We crave interaction, we desire companionship.

So even though I want nothing more (sometimes) than to be completely on my own, isolated from society and looking down on everyone from my self-constructed tower of insecurity-based elitism with a burning scorn for all humanity...

... every few years I find myself in an overwhelmingly social environment.

And what's stranger is that I like it. (Well, sort of. Parts of it. For a while. Kind of).

Usually these moments of odd social cravings are linked to my input phases. And being social is essentially that, input.

My longest big social phase lasted a few years strong, as I became a regular and an employee at a series of connected goth/industrial clubs. I DJ'ed in them (for a while), I worked the door at one, and I went out on my nights off to drink and "socialize" with all of the regulars and staff.

Everyone knew me and I knew... a few of them.

It was a great emotional high (Oooo! More connections!), but like anything, and especially for me, that phase had its abrupt, dramatic and life-changing end.

I died.

(Metaphorically).

Thank god. Fuck that. I don't need people anyway. I'm self-sufficient! I have greater things to work on!

... Except that those projects are done now, and I'm starting to get that people itch again.

Wait!

No!

I don't want to!!

Shit, yes I do!

FUCK!

PROFUNDITY AND WHO CARES?

My ebb and flow across the many areas of my life even extends to philosophy.

Over the last year or so, I've been consumed with philosophy and social psychology.

Every event in my life, or events that happen to those around me, are constantly over-analyzed, and picked apart from every conceivable angle (missionary, doggy-style, etc).

For a while, the deeper I would go with an idea, peeling off layer after layer, the concept would take on greater significance and meaning (personal meaning).

Even the most mundane action, thought or observation could suddenly be extrapolated to mean something amazingly profound about existence in general, and even myself!

It is these moments that fill me full of an infectious electric optimism about my own life (don't laugh, I'm serious). Not in a new age pseudo-spiritual kind of way, but in a very practical, realistic, personal way.

That's the "flow".

And then there is the ebb.

When everything that impacted me so profoundly and so deeply suddenly takes on a new level of "deepness".

When I strip down the layers of meaning and subtlety in any conceptual idea, I find myself at the bottom of it all, which consists of the simplest and most defeatist phrase:

"So what?"

Sometimes every introspective moment brings me nothing but excitement and personal meaning, and then the coin flips and lands on "who cares". Same idea, same train of thought. Two conclusions.

Either the things I do are interesting, important and worth doing, or they are pointless and amount to nothing in the end, and if so, "who cares" right?

Damn this back and forth!

Why can't I just stay inspired?

Because what does it matter? That's why!

Inspiration?

So what!?

Who cares!?

I do! I care!

... Wait, no I don't again.

GAH!!!!!

GET USED TO IT!

There are many more aspects of my life in which this stupid ebb and flow concept rear their stupid heads stupidly (like an idiot).

My ever complicated personal perspectives on love and relationships for one (I'll save that for a whole blog of its own).

As I've said many times, I should be getting used to it by now. It's not as if this just started the other day. But, in fairness, I have only been fully conscious of it recently.

For being almost 29, I sure have not learned much.

Again, the best medicine I could possible prescribe myself is that of acceptance.

I feel that I'm constantly trying to fight who I am (in more ways than one), which as you might imagine, makes things a bit more difficult for myself (a smidgen).

If I could just accept that I will, for the foreseeable future, be forever going back and forth, fluctuating in nearly every aspect of my life, then perhaps I can control it, in a way.

But that takes time.

As with any problem to solve, awareness is the first step.

And I'm now aware that my one constant is constant change, and I'd like to change my continual inconsistencies.

Does anyone else feel subjected to these maddening cycles?



Related blogs:
Focus On My What?
The Depression Panacea
Artistic Integrity And The Dichotomy Of Success
I Resent You Happiness
Too Early For Suicide?

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Visit the all new DeprecationWear online store! Sarcastic, self-deprecating and elitist merchandise. Click HERE to see my wares!



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BUY MY GODDAMN STUFF!!!!!!!

HEY!!!

*ahem*

Sorry...

Although I think Christmas and Hanukkah are both equally stupid, and view participating in either archaic ritual completely ridiculous, the point is that YOU don't think that.

Therefore, to capitalize on your interest in these pointless things (and to be dichotomous about the whole commercialism thing... when in Rome...), I've created not one, not three, but FIVE new products in my awesome DeprecationWear store!!

What does that mean to you?

Well!

Since you feel obligated to buy gifts for friends and family (suckas!), why not support me instead, and buy some unique, sarcastic, and humorous merchandise for your more quirky and irreverent acquaintances!

How could you possibly pass up on these gems:

CONGRATULATIONS!

you're mediocre

An awesome shirt letting everyone know you think they are sub par (which they are).

Yes, that was sarcasm.

Sometimes people just don't get it unless you have it in writing and tap it condescendingly.

I'm a fucking douche bag!

The most blunt thing I've made. A beer mug for the ironic hipsters, and the complete fucking douche bags you know. They both drink beer.

You have a lot of 

POTENTIAL!

That wasn't a compliment

Straight from my recent blog about potential, now you can "compliment" someone with an insult!

Who needs a yin
with this much yang?

And finally, an ode to independence. Or rather, in defiance against co-dependency. It's also vaguely sexual sounding. I wonder how that happened?

Well there you go folks. Five new products to fill your end-of-year purchasing lust.

C'mon!

BUY MY GODDAMN STUFF!!!!

Enjoy reading this blog? Please socially bookmark this page, or post it on your Facebook, and most of all comment with your personal stories, observations, or violent objections.

Visit the all new DeprecationWear online store! Sarcastic, self-deprecating and elitist merchandise. Click HERE to see my wares!



buy unique gifts at Zazzle

Focus On My What?

No, not that.

But thanks for thinking it.

What I'm talking about here is an odd discovery about myself. Just recently, I've happened upon a strange set of buried ideologies and beliefs ingrained within me that have been hindering me my whole life.

Here I am approaching 29 years of age, and I'm only now seeing this in myself.

And what is this discovery of mine that's holding me back so?

I'm beginning to see that almost throughout my entire existence, at least my adult existence, I've never made 'enjoying my life' a priority.

It's as if I never cared, or it just didn't matter.

Isn't that weird?

What kind of a person avoids being happy in everyday life?

A broken one, that's what.

WHEN IS A HOUSE NOT A HOME?

When it's ajar...

In the nearly two years of living at my apartment, I've never taken the time, nor cared to make it my home. It's always just been "the place that I stay".

And there's quite a difference.

Why would I not want the place I spend most of my time to reflect the person I am? Why would I not want to make it a sanctuary for enjoyment and relaxation, for inspiration and social interaction?

Why indeed.

Everyone else's apartments are decorated and cozy feeling. A representation of the people they are. An inviting friendly atmosphere that says "sit down, and spend some time here".

My apartment?

"God there's a lot of shit on the ground! How long have those dishes been sitting there? This room looks like shit. Don't even see the bathroom. Get out of here as soon as you can."

And what has been the main source of the junk and space-taking in my place?

My studio stuff. Keyboards, computers, cables, mics, software boxes, etc. That's what takes up the room. Not anything resembling a traditional, welcoming home, or a place others would want to live.

No couches, no TV, nothing on my walls, nowhere to hang out, nowhere to eat.

What does that say about me?

Soon. One more story first.

THE REVERSE 90/10 PHILOSOPHY

Almost eight years ago I was in the market for a new automated transportation unit.

The car I was coming from was very me, and I loved driving it.

A dying 1984 Volkswagen Rabbit convertible, white on white. It was awesome. I really loved that car.

But now that she was on her death... bed (what do cars lay on when dying figuratively?), I needed a new A to B machine.

Instead of finding another cute, small, fun car that reflected my personality, I ended up getting a bulky, gas-guzzling Ford Explorer.

So why did I get it?

Practicality. But offset practicality, which I did not see until later.

At the time, I live in the mountains, and winters can be pretty treacherous during snow storms, so I needed a vehicle with four wheel drive.

Check.

I also was playing shows with other bands (and planning on eventually playing my own) and felt guilty that I had the most equipment to bring (drums), and had the smallest car (the Rabbit), leaving everyone else to transport my stuff.

So I also wanted something that could carry drums and amps and the like.

Check.

And these things are fine reasons to get this car... assuming I drove on ice and hauled equipment the majority of the year.

Which I didn't.

Later I realized that I was buying the car for the things I did only 10% of the time. The remaining 90% of the time the "Exploder" becomes a needless waste of materials, an armored tank that chugs fuel, takes up too much space in a parking lot, and simply gets me to my destination.

And I hate driving it. In fact, I hate driving in general. And all because of this very un-me automobile.

Perhaps I could apply this story and observation to my life in general somehow?

SO WHERE HAS THE FOCUS BEEN?

Those may seem like disparate stories of random things, but they are just two outward examples of how I've acted in regards to, and viewed my everyday life.

As I mentioned before, I place a huge emphasis on things few people seem to care about:

Creativity.

Art (in the broad sense).

Music.

Philosophy.

My personal projects have defined who I am for years now (see: "The Depression Panacea"). I don't exist outside the projects, I am the projects. All the rest of the things I do (which probably make up about 80 to 90% of my waking existence) I frown upon, as if that part is not really living. It doesn't count.

It's like I have not allowed myself to enjoy anything outside of doing my creative projects.

I'm taking the biggest chunk of my life and writing it off as irrelevant, as compared to the creation of my self-indulgent art.

And where does that leave me?

Triumphant and elated?

...Not so much.

How about unhappy. Lonely. Confused. Depressed.

I thought I was supposed to feel so fulfilled, so accomplished and so satisfied?

HOW DID I GET HERE?

Looking around me and my life as if for the first time, I wonder how I got here.

The only way it makes any sense at all is that I must have lost track of things.
Life happened to me. Generic, but that's how it feels right?

Obviously I wouldn't do this to myself on purpose right?

Well, maybe not so obviously...

Because after some thought I came to a crazy revelation:

I have intentionally created the place in life I am currently at.

What?!

Why? How? Sentence fragment?

As a teenager, being more prone to drama and flights of emotional fancy, I would imagine my life in the future with music, and myself as the biography-worthy tormented artist type.

A person who would purposely sabotage his chances for happiness so that he could be inspired to write the next amazing piece of music. A person who would literally compromise his whole life for the art.

Why?

It felt.

It had energy.

It was dramatic and interesting.

People would want to read about that character, and make movies based around him. He was a living tragedy, but one who also created many beautiful things that touched people.

At the time, that was the person I aspired to be. One who was perpetually unhappy, but used that emotion for (potentially) brilliant pieces of art and music.

And subconsciously I've held that vision intact. I have, consciously or not, followed that path to its semi-logical conclusion.

Here.

I did this.

And I'm still doing it today.

But now something's changed...

A NEW VOICE

In the last year I've been hearing faint whispers in my subconscious.

(No, don't worry, not real voices. These are metaphorical, you know, to tell a better story right now... you know? C'mon...)

In a way it's nothing new, as my inner heartbeat pulses the same self-sabotaging way it always has.

But this is different.

Something is odd.

A new inner voice has entered the stage. A strange new notion that seems almost absurd and at the same time, immensely attractive.

It runs in stark opposition to my old voice that preached the gospel of the lonely, depressed, yet creative artist persona. It's a voice that tells me that I want to...

... I want to...

...*gulp*

.... enjoy my life.

THE ROADBLOCKS OF RATIONALIZATION

"What?!? Are you insane?!?!?

You can't enjoy your life. You're incapable!

If you suddenly become happy, you'll lose all of the power and inspiration and will only be able to write stupid happy songs!!

Think of it!!

One four five chord patterns all over the place. Happy lyrics!! Just like in Kids In The Hall: Brain Candy. Do you want to write 'Happiness Pie'?

Of course you don't!

Your art will go down hill, and you will become boring, dull, and uninteresting. Everything that makes you unique will shrivel up and die!

You will become normal!

NORMAL!!"

And so goes my brain.

I've created these reasons in my mind of why I'm justified to live an unhappy existence, why I should never make my personal life a priority, why I should be alone, why I can only be a stereotypical artist, et cetera.

Are they valid?

Do they have any basis in reality?

I'm not sure.

I've always associated my personal happiness in regular life, with the death of my creative inspiration. No evidence really, only random stories I've heard about people who used to create and don't, now that they have a family or a career.

I've also felt that I don't deserve to be happy, or perhaps that I am literally incapable of achieving such a goal, as if it is not part of my neural chemistry.

But it does sound rather silly when I say it out loud. Really? I can't write anything emotional, or be creative if I enjoy more of my daily life? Despite a few examples of the negative, I actually know people directly who have a good personal life, and can still be creative just fine.

And, no, they don't only make happy things.

So does that mean that I'm just rationalizing? Is there a chance for me to WANT to be alive, and still have the inspiration to create the things I'm passionate about?

What a startling new idea!

MAKING A CHANGE

So here I am.

Going against over a decade of subconscious inner mantra that says I cannot be happy, and if I could, I shouldn't. That my creativity is more important than enjoying the one life I most likely have to exist in.

"So are you giving up on your life as a creatively focused person?"

No.

Creativity will always be a part of me, and changing my life slowly to accommodate new priorities is in no way an 'either or' switch. It's about being a little more balanced. Both can be done at the same time.

At least in theory.

And so I start out on a strange new quest in my life (well, strange for me at least).

Almost three decades into my life I've suddenly realized I want to actually enjoy things.

I'm going to try to focus on my life.
 


Related blogs:
Your Self-projection Has Potential!
Internal And External Priorities
The Depression Panacea
I Resent Your Happiness



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