I remember a good friend of mine relaying a story back in 2006 he ran into a stranger who had found this blog and enjoyed my work. He had stumbled onto it...however people found blogs back then. I was supremely proud, and I was lucky enough to meet a couple other readers in my travels (which ALWAYS blows my mind). As I look back on it now though, I sunk myself at that first moment of a true stranger's recognition. Now I wonder, does my particular brand of inertia stem less from the fear that no one would pay attention and more that people actually might?
As you might expect of someone who has discovered he is a recovering perfectionist and self prescribed underachiever, I've been trying to suss out the true cause for some time. The closest I had come previously was the thought that perhaps I was afraid of failure, but the internet and life experience has taught me that with so much idiocy and so much genius in the world any work we are brave enough to create will at worst be lost in time, but at best could impress itself upon a moment or even change someone's course, if even a little. But if not failure, what?
When I was 16 I was a student ambassador to Australia and New Zealand. There was life and love, drunkenness and hilarity and sometimes awkward (ok, often awkward) moments way before TV made them cool. Aside from drunkenly trying to wander into the Australian forest my only regret was that I didn't make more fearless decisions. I might be being hard on myself, but I still remember a journal entry from one of the 3 program leaders that I had managed to read. I was so offended at he time, but now I realize he was absolutely right - "Ian has a great stage presence, but can actually be quite shy."
It still makes the raging extrovert in me cringe to admit that, but it was an important truth to accept about myself. I wonder what would have happened had I addressed that earlier. I've always felt an abundance of life, but aside from occasionally chasing a dragon or two around the forest realize that even in my dreams, I would often wake myself up well before I found out exactly how far I could go. Which is no longer good enough.
I can only confirm we get one chance at this life, and in truth we have a finite but unknown number of minutes remaining. The happy fact is we can spend them any way we like: sleeping, sex, watching Twin Peaks, spending time with our loved ones, laying on the couch feeling sorry for ourselves, living without fear etc. at any time, any moment we so choose. It also means the more widely remembered notion that a spent minute is gone. Regardless of perspective though, there's no minutes to spare; since time only runs in one direct (albeit at different speeds depending on the day) it's pretty safe to say that there's also no turning back.
I used to wonder if perhaps I was strange in being so interested in so much without managing to find a true passion. Now I see that I just happen to have had a few, and that means I have even fewer minutes to make any real headway into how deep the rabbit holes of my loves truly are. That's just how it is. I can't help that I find endless joy in the things that I do, and I look forward to sharing anything and everything I am so privileged to learn. Thus through, yoga, neuroscience, music and my every increasing experience with the writer's life, may my personal and professional adventure bring illumination, knowledge and laughter.
Salud,
IJB
Favorite line cut from the post: "I will strive to deliver insight, and stay away from self-indulgent garbage." I hope that always to be true.
