Passion

My last blog ended on an idealistic note; pacing the impulse of ambition and finding a much more dependable rhythm then the mood swings that accompany high expectation.

To clarify I'll use personal examples: I inspire a friend to draw and he in turn inspires me to write. We have the intention for helping each other out but the time between emails gets longer and longer. We don't speak on it because it is a mutual shame. I make promises to myself to explode with new material so he knows I didn't let him down but I give in to distractions whenever its time to work.

At this point I have to ask myself if I truly have a passion for storytelling or I just like the idea of it so much I refuse to look elsewhere. Meanwhile, my eyes alone are attempting to will the work through the rest of my body and no one is built that way.

Eventually what it comes down to is accountability, self awareness, self improvement, and self motivation. These qualities are gonna be over-represented thematically throughout my blogs. I'm no Doctor of physiology or psychology. I'm not a practiced spiritualist, historian, or theologian. I'm an unemployed undergrad with no real guidance save the tug deep down that says I've got to be my own man and I've got something to leave behind. My point here is to say that my story isn't climactic at the moment. Nor does my background give me any legitimate authority to say one action or perception is right over another. I try to use common (and sometimes uncommon) logic to provide an emotional assurance for myself that will hopefully get me to move forward on opportunities when obvious benefit does not. It's through that personal trial that I will attempt to extract and share my reasoning and experiences.

Ultimately I wish to combat a specific moment that some men seem to share. Entering my twenties, I was vital . . . well to a degree. I exercised. I wrote more. I felt more. I had more dates. I was keenly aware of my youth and my rising power (in terms of potential) to do anything I chose. Habits born from the ego disguise themselves through one's own justifications. I had been falling into detrimental habits (specifically toward my aspirations) for years without feeling the threat.


I think one of the benefits of becoming a writer or film maker is that I control my schedule or move more at a pace set with my own excitement or the strength of my imagination. I have ideas and want to get them out there. Doing it feel right. Having my time controlled by some company that leeches the spine right out of me makes me anxious, confused and resentful. My first order of business is to pursue my own happiness. There's a BIG however, however.

Alongside my desire is a companion in complacency. It looks like when I got used to envisioning an ideal future and consequently letting it go, I was, in a way, training myself to give up. I've heard stories of men shutting down. They come home and watch TV without interest. They go inward from their families and trust no one with their thoughts. They settle for the necessities and make the best of their time pretending there isn't a world outside the walls. Just a function to perform in order to maintain food, water and shelter and a collection of distractions.

I'm a victim of this. I've written long enough that I won't go into the details now but there is still part of me that holds onto the idea there is not one good dream worth letting go. So how does a guy like me, with years of inactivity (relevant to my dream) turn things around. Firstly, it's important to institute a firm confidence in oneself. I've got to limit my doubts, unlearn resignation, and most importantly, get uncomfortable (challenge my restraints).

I can only accomplish this with specifics so my next step is to list what these restraints are and then construct ways to break through.