What Doesn't Kill You...

     For some people I know it 's the most annoying phrase they know.  Usually said in response to an emotionally devastating event, one will hear said by a decidedly well-meaning person, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger..."  Well...what if it is killing you...  There are many ways to die.  The physical death of a body is just one of them.

    Who would think the girl in this picture would need that kind of advice...

    What you don't know is it was pouring rain that day, and, well, all that water hitting our equipment could have possibly killed us in the literal sense...

     Often times over the years I would wonder, "where did 'she' go?"  Turns out "she" was killed in a tragic accident...

     "She" was me...and I have a horrible propensity to withdraw when things go wrong...

     I've made reference to that fact before when talking about my nickname (If you are new to the blog, you can read about it here.). The confident, fun me, the one that went by "Red," had somewhere along the way been extinguished.  Now, well on the road to what I'm supposed to do with my life, and becoming Red again, I find that I have a few more "band aids" to rip off before I can be confident enough to keep traveling.

    Let me try to explain, without great dramatic detail, what, upon great examination, I suspect happened to my personality...   

    If you've never been in a band, it's like any small group of tightly knit people.  It closely resembles and often times feels a family.  Sometimes in a family, unpleasant things happen.  Being that I come from a pretty fragmented biological family myself, I never learned how to fully process and deal with such unpleasantries.  So by the time I ended my last band, I had withdrawn almost completely from the music scene.  I even stopped listening to some of my favorite music.  I was hiding from the things that happened within my "family" dynamic, unable to adequately asses and deal with the issues, and at the same time trying to throw myself into new families, all because "she" died and I didn't have the coping skills to know what to do with that.  I shut down so I wouldn't feel any more pain.  It just happened.  Accidental emotional death.

     A person who withdraws feels, to some degree, that whatever undesirable event happened, a majority of it was their fault, whether they were a true contributor to the situation or not.  The withdrawal itself breed a feeling of unworthiness; that your life shouldn't feel enjoyed because, well, you messed something very important up and there is no perceived hope of a second chance at it...that there is no conceivable moving on from this point...

     ...That's a heavy, heavy burden to carry around...

     I'm discovering that handling this particular injury may actually be more like taking off a cast after having broken bones set than simply ripping off a band aid. It's gonna hurt to get moving again, but one has to make themselves bend those joints and get on with it. 

     ...and that's what I have to prepare myself to do...

    No matter what anyone thinks of me, no matter what anyone thinks I have done, I can say with all honestly I never have been an intentionally hurtful person.  I am human, however, which means I'm not going to always make the best decisions.  I am truly sorry for having hurt anyone and for having caused my share of trouble.  If you have ever been considered "family," I will always love you. What's done is done. I may wish I had done it another way, but ultimately I have no regrets.  I have learned so much from everything I've experienced on my life's journey that I can let this go. I know that what doesn't kill you...

   ...okay...maybe the phrase isn't that bad.  Just a little overused...but maybe that's because with everything we experience, we all need a little reassurance that pain is temporary and we all deserve to get on down the road that leads to the ocean where our "starfish" is waiting...


    Happy Fishing!

    --Red

P.S. - I have re-written four times and had almost scrapped this blog completely.  Dealing with this is icky, but necessary.  It wouldn't have been true to what I've been feeling to avoid the subject matter and publish something more palatable and clever.  My joints are killing me, but walking is miraculous...

 

Scabs

     I noticed something interesting about myself after that last posting.  Well...I almost noticed it during the last posting, but what I have noticed is I have already become profoundly different after ripping off that band aid...

     I've had a new job for the last five months.  Most people there did not know about the previous band I was in. The idea of an Accountant who was a former metal front person is amusing, so I indulged a few by passing out a couple of copies of our last CD...our last CD from ten years ago mind you!  There was one requirement I asked of those listening:  don't judge!  I had already admitted to a few flat notes and music that fit a metal genre past it's prime, so I was fully aware of the shortcomings of my talent.  I didn't need a reminder.

     What would happen over the course of that afternoon was surprising.  The reviews were actually good!  It was the review by my co-worker Teresa where I would notice how my thoughts had shifted after the publication of the last blog. She loved my rapping (yes...I rap...), but really loved my singing!  She told me how she had favorite songs and how she listened to it twice and was going to listen to it again...

     ...and I said..."Thank you."  Without cringing, without playing it off, without running myself down, I said, "Thank you!"

    I had never been able to fully handle a compliment before in my life.  I have friends that actually recognized this in me and would yell across a room, "Red!  Just say, 'Thank you!'"  It may have looked like humility, but it was purely feeling unworthy of praise.

    Something happened when I faced those words on the computer screen last week.  It was out there.  It couldn't hurt me any more.  I was looking at them and absorbing while at the same time releasing their ugliness.  I actually felt myself fighting for me while writing them.  I kept wanting to throw "buts" in there.  I'm this, but also I'm this.  The second "this" was something more noble; something more beautiful.  I wanted the full effect of this cathartic process, so I left out the "buts," however, I left the process more confident...more healed if you will.

     A scab is defined as a "wound healing reconstruction phrase."  I think that's where I am in all of this Starfish grabbing... 

     If you rip off the band aid, quickly, with no "buts," you may find you are healing underneath.  I'm not saying I will never pick at it, but I do know that another scab will form until one day I let the would heal completely.


Happy Fishing!

--Red
  

Speed Bumps and Band Aids

A recent incident with an acquaintance brought me to a stark revelation: I am deathly afraid of criticism...

...Wow...didn't think of that before I uploaded that XFactor video audition...

Anyone who drives will tell you that they don't like speed bumps. Neighborhoods will lobby to have them put in for the safety of their children, but will still harbor a loathing in their hearts for them. The reason is twofold; first, they stop your most likely hurried progress forward in a big way, and second, you have to take them at such a slow, gingerly albeit painstaking pace just to get you and your car over them unscathed.

Welcome to my speed bump.

I can honestly say I've gotten better about it over the years, but that icky feeling of possible judgement always seems to be lurking. If I'm going to get anywhere with this whole Starfish grabbing stuff, I've got to get over this...fast!

So I'm left with the question do I treat this like a speed bump, and go over it slowly until I can get back to my normal pace or do I treat it like a band aid and just rip it off with a momentary intense pain but I can be okay in like five minutes? Can you do that with something so deep seeded?

Have you seen the end of the movie 8 Mile? Rabbit, portrayed by Eminem, decides in order to win the rap battle and get over the fear of "choking" and being laughed at, criticized if you will, for it, he has to do something drastic. Rap battles are a lot like "your mama's so fat..." contests. Who can throw the best insults at the other people using the most prolific rhymes.

Rabbit has heard all his life that he won't amount to anything and that what he wants is sincerely out of his league. I particularly liked the ending of 8 Mile because I've felt the same way. From the time I was probably around twelve years old I heard from my mother how I would never sing as good as, be as pretty as, be as smart as, or be anything like my mother. Apparently, she either thought a lot of herself, or was just trying to cover up her fear of being criticized by making someone else feel bad about themselves. Classic profile of a bully...and I was bullied a lot...

So back to speed bumps or band aids. Given the rich emotional tapestry that has been my life, one would think I would need to take the caution, slow down way to get over this...

I cant help thinking though that there was a reason Eminem's character was nick named Rabbit and it wasn't just because as a kid he was cute. I suspect it had something to do with being quick as well. Getting over his fear, and winning the battle, had to do with owning who he was. He had to say it before they did...

Time to rip off the band aid...

I am a dork.  I am goofy, sometimes too cheerful, and can be utterly obnoxious. I can make jokes that fall flat and be unflatteringly loud.  I am often times really tired and boring. I am slightly overweight and have forgotten how to dress fashionably. I don't know what I am doing most of the time and should think before I speak.  I am not the best at most things and have been mediocre at a great many.  I sometimes sing flat and have problem finding pitch.  I may not write about anything you care about, think is clever, or remotely ever make you believe I was an English major...

...and after seeing it all written in front of me, I am a lot less afraid of criticism...and it only hurt for a moment.

Happy Fishing!

--Red

Watch Your Step!

     One small step for man; one giant leap for mankind.  Words worthy for sure of a moon landing...but...um...did you hear that these words were actually flubbed?

     Neil Armstrong actually meant to say, "One small step for a man" and not just for all of man.  Big meaning difference!  The "a" was unheard because of the static and instead of conveying how even the smallest step in one's progress can lead to something momentous, it was accidentally conveyed that a seemingly small action by the human race was actually momentous one.

     Both meanings could actually be true for me...or I could just be "stepping" in "it."  I don't think I need to describe to you what "it" is...

     I guess though I should tell you what the small step was.  I tried out of X Factor. Yup.  Me.  I did it.  I uploaded a video audition shortly before they closed on New Year's Eve.  I bought a web cam, came home from work, re-did my makeup and hair, changed my clothes, hung up a sheet for "plain" background, re-shot the thing three times because my voice kept fuzzing out the mic, and did it.

     I had friends try out last season.  Actually go through the pre-X Factor judge cattle call screening with producers.  I honestly didn't get hopeful reports back from the scene.  I wasn't sure I would ever try out.  I thought about the possibility alot.  So, when I got the "tweet" saying the video auditions were open for next seasons competition, something kept nagging at me...

     I did it.  No big fanfare.  Just one small step.  A producer may or may not call or email.

    The strange thing is no matter what happens, I'm okay with it...

    The week before I uploaded my audition, it consumed my every thought.  I practiced my song over and over and planned when my schedule would actually allow for me to shoot the video.  I literally could not think of anything else.  A funny thing happened though after I uploaded the video.  It's like my mind suddenly cleared.  I was able to actually identify what I feel my ultimate path is in life.  What it was I've been aiming for this whole time.  The starfish floating out there in the ocean is clearer and able to be seen with the naked eye.

     I'll give you a hint; it's not performing on X-Factor...

     While that may be a "handy" step up the ladder, and what singer would turn down a five million dollar record contract (I'll tell you right now, not me), singing on XFactor, in it's plainest sense, is not the parking lot at the end of the jogging trail.

     So in taking that step, greater possibility and insight were opened up to me.  One small step for a man, one giant leap...

    Wait...what if I really just "stumbled" on to something instead of taking an actual step.  If you think about it, picture it in your mind, it's all really some kind of momentum forward isn't it?

    I have friends that visit from out of town every year for a music festival.  One of the outdoor venues had a particularly sketchy part of the sidewalk just past one of the bars.  We stood in that location most of the evening telling people "Watch your step!"  Some people thanked us and then they tripped anyway.  Everyone  who was warned went down the path anyway, many tripped. No need for medical assistance though.  They just went about their way.  They were all okay.

    No matter what happens, so am I.  I needed to take that step to stumble upon a deeper understanding of the starfish I am looking for.  There are two thousand variety of starfish you know...

    ...One small step for a man, one giant, glorious stumble for me.

Happy Fishing!

--Red