This is my last day. And fitting it’s the longest one to date. 7 hour flight, 5 hour layover, 11 hour flight, 4 hour layover, 3 hour flight, I’m home, disoriented and hoping the sun is warm on my face.
In a month have I been able to accomplish anything? Am I granted satisfaction for following through on something? A little I think.
But does it really change anything?
All I can hope for is to be strong enough to tell the truth and to follow through on my promises. If it takes me posting online every day to hold to an agreement then that’s ok, for now. But eventually, I want to be off the grid, not in a cabin somewhere, but motivationally self-sufficient. Without your helpful eyeballs I want to have the same drive to create.
Maybe it’s a myth, self-sufficiency. Maybe I’m looking at it wrong. Perhaps I should be grateful that I can produce anything at all. The fear inside me is real. The fear of everything.
But stranger, wouldn’t you tell me I was doing alright? That there were bits of courage in my daily actions? Doesn’t it mean something that I’ve been journaling every day, without fail for over a year. That I’ve sat for meditation 200 days in a row. That I’ve effectively taught myself how to be an all inclusive production company without any formal training. Doesn’t it all mean something?
I just feel like more should have come from all of this. After being alive this long, there should be some greater reward. After pushing myself this hard, the fear should have lifted from my shoulders. But it stays there and I need your eyeballs close to me to make sure I don’t slip.
That’s reality. So why can’t I be ok with it? Why does there have to be more? Why does it have to be harder, more original?
I’ve always wanted to be like the most genius. But in reality the greatest works of all time come after years, lifetimes even, of consistent work. A year of journaling is a nice start, after 20 years then I’ll really have something to report. And the trick, I suppose, will lie in being satisfied with the process of learning and creating. Let’s be honest, end products are depressing anyway. Then what do you do with your time?
I just landed back in the US and it feels nice. That trip was a bit of a stretch for me. Not to mention the near mental breakdown suffered during the last leg. But I’m back and I’ve called my family, FaceTimed with my nephews, and eaten breakfast tacos (just don’t tell anyone they were from Friday’s at the airport). Which brings me to my next point. I’ve always loved buffets. I like Chili’s, Friday’s, and, honestly, Applebee’s. Say what you want, but they know how to deliver good old fashioned American comfort food.
It’s obvious I’ve been in Asia for 6 weeks.
This is it folks. 30 days is up. Just like that. I started and then I finished and there was just about no time in between.
So, what’s next?