I attempted to start this post three different times last night, but each effort seemed to be little more than a paragraph or so of critical analysis on life as a 20something in contemporary society. Which I have no desire to write about anymore – there’s only so many ways one can air their grievances, and I don’t imagine it makes for interesting reading to begin with.
So ultimately I discarded each potential beginning. But in almost every other instance where I’ve faced dissatisfaction with my writing, I have been able to regroup and pull coherent, cohesive paragraphs from within. In an uncharacteristic turn, I just could not get the words to come last night. I became fairly unnerved, and eventually conceded that no good writing was going to formulate in front of my eyes during that session.
Point being: I would rather conserve words & more wholly develop ideas, than just spit some trite crap for the sake of posting at a regular interval. Producing original content daily requires an enormous amount of mental gathering and creative output. Were I solely running a music blog (which I’m still toying with the idea of starting), there would be an endless stream of new tracks, releases, and news – all I would need to do would be properly phrase & format them.
Consequently, it would be easy enough for me to neglect or completely abandon this project. I’ve previously stated the various reasons why I believe it prudent & necessary to keep it running, but all the same – it does take work. Many of those that are still sick & suffering face failure in recovery because of this very problem. It is much easier to start a period of sobriety, when the horror of your last drink, your last rock-bottom, is still fresh in your mind. But once that initial hunger for health begins to fade, are you prepared to put in the hard work required to maintain?
As stubborn as a drunk as I was, I can be equally if not more stubborn when it comes to my recovery. Face Everything And Recover, as they say. There are certain achievements in life that require precisely the right combination of luck & advantage; for example, running a successful Presidential campaign is something only a very small minority of the population will ever be privilege to (head still reeling from 8 straight years of Dubya…and we only narrowly escaped 4-to-8 of Mittens).
Living sober is not one of those rare life situations. As Theodor Herzl once wrote, “If you will it, it is no dream.” With the right attitude and work ethic, any one being on this Earth may enjoy the benefits of sobriety. In the parlance of our times, I’m “’bout that sober life” (these ‘hip’ slang phrases amuse me so, because they’re so casually tossed around by well-adjusted Caucasian teens who possess little to no street cred and even less an understanding of the words that come out of their own mouths // end rant).
While I root my definition of resilience firmly in my recovery program, it of course applies to almost all aspects of my life. Today I found out that the ad sales job I was hopeful for, that I had a second-round interview for…is interviewing potential candidates for another TWO WEEKS. So realistically, I don’t have high hopes for being hired on there. There’s a good chance they’ll be able to pull someone with advanced sales experience & a more qualified resume – but then again, who knows?
What I realized, though, is that even if I had been informed that the newspaper had chosen someone else for the position, my reaction would have been little more than a sigh and a shrug. Yes, it’s probably the most ideal form of employment I’ve come across in the past three months. So what? There is literally no use in throwing myself, discouraged & dejected, into an apathetic malaise. That will in no way get me a job. Onward & upward, my dear boy!
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[Ed. note: However…it is now May, and with each day that goes by without earning, my freedom/flexibility for summer plans becomes that much more jeopardized, and a summer without music would be…just tragic. Seriously I don’t think I’ve not gone to a handful of summer shows since I was junior in high school. Perspective, man.]