Daring to Get Lost (Again)
Getting lost, again. Being bold enough to get lost. I was asking myself what I would love to do and an empty space of nothing (apparently a tautology) gaped back, a dark cave grinning with its stalactite-stalacnite-teeth. That empty space of nothing is what I gaze into day after day when I think the word ‘future’.
Future used to be an exciting word, scary maybe, but full of promise. I’m trying to feel that word, to feel what it meant. That open space, but full. I wanted to live magic, and now I live something else, an everyday where nothing sparkles, and the future no longer sparkles and that’s the scary thing. I’m used to the present being less than perfect, it usually is, but the future! It’s an aspirational term.
Maybe I’ve seen too many casting calls for aspirational types, which I know means looking like a model where nothing is about acting. Everything is about who you are. And I think that’s both true and a lie. It is all about who you are and if you’re a great actor you can blow them away anyway, I still believe that, for acting, and all else.
Maybe I’ve become jaded.
Jaded, ‘feeling or showing a lack of interest or excitement that is caused by having done or experienced too much of something’ (MW).
Maybe one dream can only hold so much energy for so long. If it goes fulfilled, a new horizon opens, if it goes unfulfilled, perhaps it deflates, like an old balloon, floating under the ceiling for too long without ever taking off into the sky.
I have a lot of time because I made that time for myself. And I hate myself for not using it more. I know that it’s not good practice to hate yourself, but come on, be honest, do you never? I am at war then, internally. Having the strong desire to achieve, but somehow no energy, no spark.
My friend Katy shared the term ‘energy currency’ with me. Energy is everything. We need to go where the energy flows or we stagnate. If something no longer vibrates, something needs to change, basically, if the batteries of your vibrator run out, you either need to replace them with new ones (rest, recharge, find new inspo) or find another source of pleasure. Sorry Katy for the random metaphor ;)
My other friend Katie (with ie) writes about quarter life crises, where old values and goals and things that you thought were you suddenly lose energy.
When reading Katie’s posts, I loved the insights but had this detachment, an internal relief that this quarter life questioning was no longer mine, a ‘thankfully this is behind me now’ sigh. I felt really lost in my 20s, wrote dark poetry and partied a lot, and in my 30s I have found a stability and groundedness in myself where I know what I want and who I am. I found more peace and have felt more relaxed. Or do I? Where does peace end and numbness begin?
Certainly when the energy stops.
Perhaps there is also an end of year crisis, when we reflect upon the year and know a new one is coming, look at what we’ve done, who we’ve become and where we’d like to go.
My goal is to be excited for the new year and not feel dread. To look forward to festivities, knowing that I’m in the right place, that somehow I’m in flow and am going ahead, forward, that my life is in motion. Simply.
That’s the feeling I’d like.
But this year, I’ve been having another end of year crisis.
I’m currently on vacation at home, finishing a music video for my friend’s band. I’ve been in a funk, and not satisfied with how this year has gone. This blog has been on drafts for a month now. A lot has shifted already, I’ve made peace with this year mostly, and am planning for the new one, not rigidly, but looking for where the energy lies, what still excites me, and what needs to change, so that this time next year I’ll be in a different place.
This is my report from the messy middle, about a month ago:
‘I’m feeling a bit lost again. See how I said that - a bit lost, hesitant.
I’ve been feeling lost again. I thought it was an embarrassing thing to still not have shit figured out in your 30s, but you know what? I think what I’m saying is: I’m feeling alive again.
And this is really something to be proud of: alive.
In my 30s and alive again.
To be alive is not to know how things will turn out, who and where I’ll be in a year’s time, and this is what I want.
I want to expand like a puffer fish, becoming unexpectedly big, and a bit spiky.’
Perhaps being lost is a bold move.
Perhaps getting lost is a step in the right direction.
How can you find a new path without getting lost first?
Perhaps protecting against getting lost is protecting against life.
I bought a copy of Big Panda and Tiny Dragon and there is one page in it that has burned itself into my brain. Tiny Dragon is holding on to an autumn leaf twice his size and the wind is carrying it away, and it says: ‘Let go or be dragged’.
Sometimes you look at a thing and it seems the perfect symbol and it stays in your mind. I have no answers. I’m here in my flat-cave observing, making new dream schemes so the future will look exciting to me again, so I will get out of bed in the mornings knowing that I’m going somewhere. If that means making a big move, or internally finding a new sparkly goal is to be seen.
Crises, unravelings come and go, and they can’t be put into neat boxes.
Change reroutes us, picks us up and brings us somewhere new. And when we are not in that change, when we resist, that extends the crisis.
Here are some definitions by Merriam Webster:
an emotionally significant event or radical change of status in a person’s life
the decisive moment (as in a literary plot)
an unstable or crucial time or state of affairs in which a decisive change is impending
In some form, change has arrived, and we feel moved to choose a new path, to move forward differently, but a decision hasn’t been made yet.
It’s like soul puberty. You feel something change but can’t see yet what you’re becoming. You have to make choices from that place of messiness, without solid ground beneath your feet, stepping outside while feeling unsure of your awkward transitioning self.
One thing I’m learning again and again is to not take on too much external advice.
I read an article in Vogue years ago where an artist explained that she never took a 9-5 job because she knew it was a trap & that article has stuck with me.
Something about the purity of the artistic pursuit and not settling for anything.
Then again I might read something about a person who created their show or wrote their first book, or first 5 books while working full-time.
It’s important to feel out what’s the best next step and not get bogged down with all those life recipes floating around, influencers, and celeb interviews, and spiritual gurus.
The way is through.
This is one of my reminders to not try and find fancier ways or better routes and keep planning for ages, but to go and act.
If you’re hiking and get to a bog, you could stand all day planning for the best route to cross it, or you could take a glance, then slowly approach and gently step to see where the ground is solid, and if you got so close to the other side and there is no other way, you might need to take a step of faith, and you might sink in thigh deep, as happened to me on the JOG trail this spring.
Generally, please try to avoid bogs and walk around them, but I was glad to have gotten to the other side, even with one of my legs drenched & laced with green algae.
And with this beautiful bog metaphor I will leave you for this week. I’ll try my best to show up more regularly again. Seems like I’ve crossed most of the bog now.
// Siris