I don't really know why this title will fit. I want to write about two creative outlets in my life - music and photography. I'm "good" at both. Hard for me not to erase that, but that's what I am. Good. Not great. Not excellent. Not exceptional. Not bad. Not awful. Good. Better than some. Not professional at either. They are my two greatest passions next to travel. If someone handed me a few million bucks, that is all I'd do. Travel, sing and photograph... (maybe write once and a while on this blog and others.)
There are some schools of thought who say, "Just go for it. Live your dream. Make it happen. Work at what you're passionate about." There are others that say, "Get a REAL job. These are just hobbies and should remain so. What are you thinking? Do you know your chances of success??" More on this later...
Photography is observing, for me. Photography is appreciating. Photography is really slowing down and trying to SEE the world. I have to be in a kind of special "zone" to take really good photos. Sure, I do snap, snap, snap along with the best of them. I like that kind of photography too. Just fun. But there are just these special, exciting moments when I just feel turned on inside...when the light is right, the moment is right/special, the expression is priceless... I think you know what I mean. I know I can't be alone in this. There are just too many passionate photographers out there.
Music is participatory. Music is something that has always expressed my emotions, my emotional frustration, anger, love, happiness, grief, confusion, etc. There are many times, weeks, months... even years have gone by, when I haven't used my voice. Music is sometimes therapy for me. I am not a great communicator in life. I keep a lot inside, or so some of my relationships have mentioned. I'm not sure why. I just go quiet for long periods of time. Lately I'm singing a little more than I used to. In fact in the last two years, I've picked it up more than I have in the last 15.
The continual battle in me has always been do I try to have enough faith in what I love, what I'm good at, to keep working at it and try to actually BE a professional at one or the other? To do that requires that I believe in myself and my abilities. I don't. I know I'm "good"... that's it. In my mind at least, success in either of these areas takes "exceptional", not good. It also takes believing in yourself without question, which I never have cultivated. So? I go on, taking neither of my passions seriously. OR
Do I just get a job? Keep these passions as hobbies and even though I'm burnt out and in pain from a 40+ work week at little above minimum wage, never getting ahead of the game... Do I just try to find a little time to pick up my passions now and then? There has to be a better way. I have had SO many soul crunching "jobs" in my life. I should have some kind of a CAREER by now! ANYTHING would probably be better than nothing.
I'm 56 years old this year. My age is finally showing. Parts of me aren't working like they used to. My time on this earth is getting shorter and shorter. What have I contributed? Reality is finally sinking into this child-like brain of mine. I'm afraid parts of me have never really "grown up." I don't face reality well. I've been running away from things most of my life. Like the fact that I have absolutely no savings. Nothing. No health insurance. No 401K. I'm deep in debt. Terrible credit. School loans unpaid. No inheritances to rely on. About $350. in my checking account at the moment and no income coming in. I've been looking for work since August. You'd think that would put me in an all out panic. It does some days. But I've been here before, not once but several times in my life. If I think about it too long it just makes me want to put a gun to my head and stop it all. Give up because it's just too hard. Most days, I roll my creaky ass out of bed, limp down to make coffee, and try to have faith. Faith that today things just might change. It's all I can do. One foot in front of the other.
This is not really how I envisioned my life. I had dreams. Big dreams. I still do, when I'm trying to avoid the reality of the situation. I want to participate in LIFE, not be an observer of it. (I don't mean I want to stop photographing.) I want to be living IN my dream. I keep trying. I keep trying to think of avenues IN, but I feel like time is running out. Maybe it has already run out and it's too late and I just don't want to see that? There just must be something I'm not doing right these days. I know others are able to do it. Why not me? And another question that needs to be answered is why can't I just be happy where I'm at? I'll tell you the answer to that one, right now. Because I know I can do better. I want more from myself. I know I have it in me, somewhere... to be better than this.
I have no conclusion to this blog post. I'm finished sending applications in for jobs over the net today. No more interviews scheduled at the moment. I have a little gas in my car and I'm heading to Eugene to see a few friends. I'm not even going to stop to organize this jumble of words. No editing today. Just stream of consciousness typing. Sorry for the mess. That's just my brain today.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Joy, Depression, and a Dog Named Panda
Joy. Interesting word. When I say it in my mind these days, I don't feel it. I feel cold, blank. I remember what it feels like, vaguely. To be so totally immersed in something. To feel a complete happiness and excitement. To feel inspired and alive.
For someone with chronic depression, it isn't an easy thing to find. I don't remember the last time. That's a bad sign. Maybe for a few minutes a couple months ago when I got a little stoned for the first time in years and was playing music. I forgot myself. I forgot everything else except the music and I felt joy. Is that what it is? Just a total immersion into something?
Yes, I do take medication. I don't exercise much these days and I know if I did it would help. But that's the tricky part about depression. You KNOW all the things that could possibly help your situation but you are DEPRESSED so you just don't care enough to do anything about it.
I have battled with this disease, (and it took me a very long time to even admit that it is a disease and not just some terrible character flaw I was born with)... off and on, for about twenty or more years. If I think back, there were probably some episodes even before that. So I don't think it's hormonal.
But I didn't really want this post to be about that. It's just the back story. This post is about joy. Where I find it. Right now the biggest joy in my life is a little fluff ball named Panda Maurice. I never imagined I could be so in love with a four legged creature, but here I am. I've had plenty of dogs in my life. All of them big. Some of them very sweet. My last dog, Jazz, was a case and a half! Lab/Chesapeake/Husky mix. An alpha female all the way... that finally after several years, I gave up battling with. We constantly butted heads. She was just too much for me and we never really connected. She was not especially a people pleaser. I think, honestly I was more relieved than sad when I finally had to put her down at fifteen. I hate to admit that, but it's true.
Panda is quite another story. Of course as a puppy, he was/is still quite cute. He is a purebread Pembroke Welsh Corgi. Not a dog I probably ever would have chosen. I'm never been a small dog lover. In my experience they bark too much, are too excitable, too needy. Besides in my earlier days, I not only needed a companion dog but a dog that might be more on the protective side or at least a deterrent. I did a lot of hitchhiking hiking and traveling by myself.
Panda is different. He aims to please. We connect. He seems special somehow in a way that I find hard to explain. He's very sensitive. He listens. He really does. Just one small example: The other evening I was feeling pretty down. I was sitting on the couch with him watching Fried Green Tomatoes, a movie that always makes me cry. Panda was perched up on the back arm of the couch. (He is a bit cat-like and likes to climb things.) Minutes after I started sniffling, he climbed down off his perch with no prompting, came over and looked up at me and started licking my face. Now maybe this isn't strange for most dogs but none of my other dogs did it. Especially Jazz who would barely look me in the eye at close range, let alone ever "kiss" me... even when I asked her to.
Panda is smart. He is very quiet. He rarely barks. He's happy to just be with you much of the time, watching or snuggling. He watches tv with us. He is totally enthusiastic about life. I know most puppies are, but watching him just makes my heart smile. When he is at the river or the park with me he runs and jumps and tears around in a figure eight pattern, throws things up in the air for himself, splashes in the water... and it looks like he has the biggest grin on his face the whole time. He looks at me as if to say, "Why aren't you enjoying this as much as me?!" I do, when I look at him. It's that child-like quality of pure involvement in the moment, that I miss. Too much going on in my brain these days I suppose. He reminds me what it's like and it warms my heart. It also makes me sad at times, that I seem to have lost it.
To say that I feel protective of this little guy is an understatement. He wants everyone to be his friend. Big dogs, little dogs, cats, humans, he's excited to meet and to know everyone. This has been to his detriment a few times, as he was attacked before he knew about rolling over and playing submissive. Yesterday a big black dog came rushing up to us at the beach. I yelled at him and he stopped and then his owners called him back. I was totally ready to kick some black dog ass. This urge of pure adrenaline just came over me and I got mad as hell. Panda is so innocent and so loving. I feel it's my job to protect him at all costs. Maybe that's just the "mother" in me.
Back to the joy issue. There are a few things that still give me great joy. One is a road trip or travel of any kind. I don't know why. It's just always been such a freeing experience for me. Especially the times when I didn't necessarily have a set destination or time line in mind. I miss that with all my heart. I feel stuck at the present time mostly due to finances. Next thing that gives me joy is communication with a few close friends who I feel really know the art of listening. Thirdly, getting out of town. (Yes, this is part of the travel joy, but also it's just being able to have a rural landscape more accessible to me. I don't right now. I live in the city and it's becoming more and more frustrating, no not frustrating irritating, to drive and drive and drive and still not be able to get away from the noise, the cars, the people and find a quiet and beautiful place in nature where I find inspiration to photograph or write. I NEED that in my life. I don't just want it. It's a necessary thing for me. It makes me happy to look out my window and see wide open spaces. "A room with a view." I need to live someplace where I can breathe. THAT gives me joy. A flower garden gives me joy. Horses give me joy. Mountains and open places give me joy. Wild thunderstorms give me joy. Music gives me joy.
There is no conclusion to this post. Just that I need to cultivate a little more joy in my life, and a lot less sadness. It's work. It wasn't always work. It doesn't seem as difficult with Panda around.
For someone with chronic depression, it isn't an easy thing to find. I don't remember the last time. That's a bad sign. Maybe for a few minutes a couple months ago when I got a little stoned for the first time in years and was playing music. I forgot myself. I forgot everything else except the music and I felt joy. Is that what it is? Just a total immersion into something?
Yes, I do take medication. I don't exercise much these days and I know if I did it would help. But that's the tricky part about depression. You KNOW all the things that could possibly help your situation but you are DEPRESSED so you just don't care enough to do anything about it.
I have battled with this disease, (and it took me a very long time to even admit that it is a disease and not just some terrible character flaw I was born with)... off and on, for about twenty or more years. If I think back, there were probably some episodes even before that. So I don't think it's hormonal.
But I didn't really want this post to be about that. It's just the back story. This post is about joy. Where I find it. Right now the biggest joy in my life is a little fluff ball named Panda Maurice. I never imagined I could be so in love with a four legged creature, but here I am. I've had plenty of dogs in my life. All of them big. Some of them very sweet. My last dog, Jazz, was a case and a half! Lab/Chesapeake/Husky mix. An alpha female all the way... that finally after several years, I gave up battling with. We constantly butted heads. She was just too much for me and we never really connected. She was not especially a people pleaser. I think, honestly I was more relieved than sad when I finally had to put her down at fifteen. I hate to admit that, but it's true.
Panda is quite another story. Of course as a puppy, he was/is still quite cute. He is a purebread Pembroke Welsh Corgi. Not a dog I probably ever would have chosen. I'm never been a small dog lover. In my experience they bark too much, are too excitable, too needy. Besides in my earlier days, I not only needed a companion dog but a dog that might be more on the protective side or at least a deterrent. I did a lot of hitchhiking hiking and traveling by myself.
Panda is different. He aims to please. We connect. He seems special somehow in a way that I find hard to explain. He's very sensitive. He listens. He really does. Just one small example: The other evening I was feeling pretty down. I was sitting on the couch with him watching Fried Green Tomatoes, a movie that always makes me cry. Panda was perched up on the back arm of the couch. (He is a bit cat-like and likes to climb things.) Minutes after I started sniffling, he climbed down off his perch with no prompting, came over and looked up at me and started licking my face. Now maybe this isn't strange for most dogs but none of my other dogs did it. Especially Jazz who would barely look me in the eye at close range, let alone ever "kiss" me... even when I asked her to.
Panda is smart. He is very quiet. He rarely barks. He's happy to just be with you much of the time, watching or snuggling. He watches tv with us. He is totally enthusiastic about life. I know most puppies are, but watching him just makes my heart smile. When he is at the river or the park with me he runs and jumps and tears around in a figure eight pattern, throws things up in the air for himself, splashes in the water... and it looks like he has the biggest grin on his face the whole time. He looks at me as if to say, "Why aren't you enjoying this as much as me?!" I do, when I look at him. It's that child-like quality of pure involvement in the moment, that I miss. Too much going on in my brain these days I suppose. He reminds me what it's like and it warms my heart. It also makes me sad at times, that I seem to have lost it.
To say that I feel protective of this little guy is an understatement. He wants everyone to be his friend. Big dogs, little dogs, cats, humans, he's excited to meet and to know everyone. This has been to his detriment a few times, as he was attacked before he knew about rolling over and playing submissive. Yesterday a big black dog came rushing up to us at the beach. I yelled at him and he stopped and then his owners called him back. I was totally ready to kick some black dog ass. This urge of pure adrenaline just came over me and I got mad as hell. Panda is so innocent and so loving. I feel it's my job to protect him at all costs. Maybe that's just the "mother" in me.
Back to the joy issue. There are a few things that still give me great joy. One is a road trip or travel of any kind. I don't know why. It's just always been such a freeing experience for me. Especially the times when I didn't necessarily have a set destination or time line in mind. I miss that with all my heart. I feel stuck at the present time mostly due to finances. Next thing that gives me joy is communication with a few close friends who I feel really know the art of listening. Thirdly, getting out of town. (Yes, this is part of the travel joy, but also it's just being able to have a rural landscape more accessible to me. I don't right now. I live in the city and it's becoming more and more frustrating, no not frustrating irritating, to drive and drive and drive and still not be able to get away from the noise, the cars, the people and find a quiet and beautiful place in nature where I find inspiration to photograph or write. I NEED that in my life. I don't just want it. It's a necessary thing for me. It makes me happy to look out my window and see wide open spaces. "A room with a view." I need to live someplace where I can breathe. THAT gives me joy. A flower garden gives me joy. Horses give me joy. Mountains and open places give me joy. Wild thunderstorms give me joy. Music gives me joy.
There is no conclusion to this post. Just that I need to cultivate a little more joy in my life, and a lot less sadness. It's work. It wasn't always work. It doesn't seem as difficult with Panda around.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Waiting for Life to Happen
Ok, so I've been waiting and waiting to make a first entry into this blog. Waiting for some travel to happen in my life so I can write about it. I don't travel around as much these days. Financial reasons. I thought about it this morning and decided this blog can be about inward journeys as well. I mean, who is going to read it anyway? I realize the inner workings of my sometimes paranoid, sometimes depressed soul will not be that interesting to most.
I travel. I travel every day in my mind. I am always dreaming that I'm a travel writer/photographer, getting paid to wander the world and see new things, write down my experiences and photograph them and actually get PAID to do that. It's a dream. I am amateur at both these things. I suppose I could just admit it and go on, but I still yearn to do them.
I am a cook. Sometimes called a "chef"... though no formal training. I have been a graphic designer, a merchandiser, a gas station attendant, a sales person, a janitor, a maid, a factory worker, a Production Assistant, Locations Assistant, and Set/Prop Assistant on feature films and commercial productions in Los Angeles, a horse and mule caretaker, a cooking instructor, a barista and coffee house manager, a musician/vocalist, and probably several other miscellaneous positions that I can't remember due to my aging brain cells.
I'm getting tired. My body is wearing out on me. I look down at my hands as I type, they look old. I want a more inward life right now. Yet I want to travel. I want escape but I want introspection. I want time. I want my time to be my own. I don't have enough of it left now.
I have relationship problems. I'm not happy. I'm not happy with my living situation. I want less noise, less traffic, less emotional upheaval all the time. I want some peace in my life. I want acceptance. I want love. Do you really think that's too much to ask?
I'm contemplating two paths at the moment. I'm thinking about taking one of those online programs to learn how to teach English in a foreign country. It seems one way I might afford more travel. Yet, I am 56 years old and never had kids. Do I really think I have the patience to TEACH???
Another option is to join a Travel Writers and Photographers group. Take classes. Learn from that, and just start. Since this is what I want to do in the first place and the teaching would just be a sidestep in some ways.... it sounds like the best option. And it also sounds like a dream. That I am just fooling myself one more time, that I could amount to something in this life.
It's hard for me to think of myself as anything but a loser...sometimes.
Then the old optimism pips up and I keep saying to myself, "Why not give it a try?" So this blog will be about that journey as well as any travels along the way. I'm not writing this with grammar or excellent writing in mind. It's a journal of thoughts, that's all. Wanderings from inside.
I travel. I travel every day in my mind. I am always dreaming that I'm a travel writer/photographer, getting paid to wander the world and see new things, write down my experiences and photograph them and actually get PAID to do that. It's a dream. I am amateur at both these things. I suppose I could just admit it and go on, but I still yearn to do them.
I am a cook. Sometimes called a "chef"... though no formal training. I have been a graphic designer, a merchandiser, a gas station attendant, a sales person, a janitor, a maid, a factory worker, a Production Assistant, Locations Assistant, and Set/Prop Assistant on feature films and commercial productions in Los Angeles, a horse and mule caretaker, a cooking instructor, a barista and coffee house manager, a musician/vocalist, and probably several other miscellaneous positions that I can't remember due to my aging brain cells.
I'm getting tired. My body is wearing out on me. I look down at my hands as I type, they look old. I want a more inward life right now. Yet I want to travel. I want escape but I want introspection. I want time. I want my time to be my own. I don't have enough of it left now.
I have relationship problems. I'm not happy. I'm not happy with my living situation. I want less noise, less traffic, less emotional upheaval all the time. I want some peace in my life. I want acceptance. I want love. Do you really think that's too much to ask?
I'm contemplating two paths at the moment. I'm thinking about taking one of those online programs to learn how to teach English in a foreign country. It seems one way I might afford more travel. Yet, I am 56 years old and never had kids. Do I really think I have the patience to TEACH???
Another option is to join a Travel Writers and Photographers group. Take classes. Learn from that, and just start. Since this is what I want to do in the first place and the teaching would just be a sidestep in some ways.... it sounds like the best option. And it also sounds like a dream. That I am just fooling myself one more time, that I could amount to something in this life.
It's hard for me to think of myself as anything but a loser...sometimes.
Then the old optimism pips up and I keep saying to myself, "Why not give it a try?" So this blog will be about that journey as well as any travels along the way. I'm not writing this with grammar or excellent writing in mind. It's a journal of thoughts, that's all. Wanderings from inside.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)