You. I know you.
There’s an incessant whisper that never, ever leaves you at peace … feeding you lies about your value, your talents, and whether you’ll ever make it … there.
You’re the one who idolizes the Successful Ones, praying for your piece of starlight to arrive.
You’re the one who’s frightened … frustrated … increasingly convinced that your ideas just aren’t “original” enough.
You’re the one who is so. very. tired. of trying so. damn. hard.
If I were you …
… I’d drop offline and seek out new sources of nourishment. Live performances. High art. Heroic poetry. Improv comedy.
… I’d jot down a series of stories I’ve been aching to tell. True stories that happened to me. Nobody else.
… I’d walk through graveyards at twilight and record thoughts into my cellphone — for future use.
… I’d break patterns & surprise myself.
… I’d explore what it means to grow wild.
… I’d write these words on my bathroom mirror: no one on earth can do what I do, in precisely the way that I do it.
… I’d give myself the space & grace & silence to have just one truly original idea.
… And then I’d release that idea into the world — without a moment’s hesitation.
That’s what I’d do.
If I were you.
“Stop worrying if your vision is new.
Let others make that decision (they usually do).
You keep moving on.”