I went through a tough time this summer. Not to be redundant, but you if you’ve been keeping up with my blog, you probably already know that. I was texting with a good friend of mine from Seattle and something she said hit me on both a personal and a professional level.
She wrote :
Your instincts are your guide. You sometimes have to be in places that aren’t personally fulfilling.
I thought about what she said and how when the months of July and August were upon me, I was doing things and putting myself into places that weren’t personally fulfilling. They weren’t good for me and I knew it, but I continued to do it anyway. Those nights would always end with me calling myself an idiot and swearing I would never do it again, until the LAST time I did it again.
Now, I’m out of it and I came out of it a better person, more determined and focused than ever before, and of course with the foresight to know that I don’t have to go through shit to get to heaven. But, I came to a humble epiphany at the end of it, and that is the belief that sometimes you have to lose yourself to find yourself again.
I had to lose ME to find “me” again.
Not the me that moved here 12 years ago, or the me that is telling me it might be time to go. Not the me that says “Fuck me!” when I can’t get to sleep well past sunrise, and not the me that is enjoying this cooler weather as I lay in bed a few minutes longer every morning.
It’s the culmination of everything that makes up who I really am, and who I really am is someone who has the right people in his ear, and the power to make an instinctual choice that could change my life for the better, as well as the knowledge to know when to talk myself out of those other instincts that keep me where I am.
I wrote my first paid article recently for a new online men’s magazine and the website launches in a month. (please hold your applause till the end) I’m pretty proud of myself for the story I wrote. In the middle of my summer demise and even lately when things have gone slightly better I have asked the powers that be to give me one obvious, unmistakeable and blatant sign to let me know what the fuck am I supposed to do with my life now. The last time I asked that question was on a Tuesday in October, and the very next day I got that writing gig.
It’s not a lot of money, but that ongoing little job is agreement from the universe that I’m on the right track and even I’M tired of hearing about the “universe and it’s energy” too, but it’s totally what it was.
I don’t know if it’s for everyone, but I beat myself down so I can get back up. I have the word “stronger” tattooed on my chest for a reason. The last time I suffered from a similar self inflicted beat down was almost 10 years ago, and I came out of it a better man, a more powerful soul, and I felt stronger because I didn’t fucking die when I was making myself that way so I GOT that tattoo on my chest.
I see it every day as a reminder, and today it reminds me of how much it didn’t kill me this time either.
I guess the saying now has to go…
You sometimes have to lose yourself to find yourself again…
every 10 years or so.