top of page
  • Writer's pictureJH

Calling your own bullsh*t

October 25, 2018

Well, it’s a brave new world, but I don’t feel so brave.

Just thought you should know.

I write all the time on here about nudges and affirmations and letting go and going all in, but the truth is I’m not good at what I write about, which is why I write about it. This is a blog about fear because I live with it every day of my life. It’s a blog about attachment because I’m plagued by attachments. It’s a blog about faith because I lack faith. It’s a blog about ego because I fight with mine all the time.

Just thought you should know.

Why is it a brave new world?

Last week I returned home from a month on tour in Europe with Sarah Smith – the stuff of dreams and, if you’re into signs, a pretty good indication that I’m on the right path. I came back to something of a different life than the one I left. I’ve made some decisions and some changes that have left me sitting in front of a virtual blank slate. I left the indie band I co-founded and love so I could pursue being a working drummer. I’ve slowly let go of my freelance writing business. I have a few gigs on the horizon and very little else.

I’ve put myself in a position where I have to test my own b.s.

And that’s why I don’t feel so brave.

I talk a lot about courageous steps forward. I encourage people to take a chance on what they love and see how the miracles happen. I do all of this from behind a kind of firewall. I dance around the edges like everyone else, and while I haven’t written anything on here that isn’t true, the reality is that I’m afraid, I doubt myself, and I’m a serial regretter of decisions. That’s my pattern, and it speaks to questions of confidence that I’ve had my whole life. It's one of those issues that will keep coming up for me until it's finally resolved.

I think honesty is important. My truth today is that I don’t know what comes next. I don’t know how I’m going to make a living or even how I want to make a living. I don't know where the opportunities will come from or whether they'll come at all. I can’t see a definite way forward and I’m not bringing a heap of self-belief to the quest. I’m writing this now because I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels this way. I bet there are millions of people out there right now in a similar position, scared half to death and avoiding the big questions because they hurt. I’m saying it because I want you – and me – to know that it’s okay. I’ve said before that fear means you’re living on the sharp edge, and that’s where the growth happens.

So what now?

I may not be good at my own practice, but I can take some of my own advice. I’m spending time behind the drum kit, doing the work, trying to get better. I’m reading the wisdom of experienced people. I’m trying to let go of the need I have to control things or have them unfold in a certain way. I’m trying – trying – to believe that the right doors will open at the right time. I’m trying – trying – to draw on my history. To see the synchronicities. To see the successes. To see the times when I took the leap and landed. I’m trying – trying – to recognize my limiting beliefs and consider how they have both served and sabotaged me.

My inclination is to panic. Maybe yours is too. The voice in my head says to give up already. It worries about money. It questions my ability. It tells me I just don’t have it as a musician or a writer. It tells me I’m too old. It tells me I’m a failure. It tells me I’m a fool. We all have that voice. I’m trying to recognize it for what it is. It’s a voice of self-protection. It’s trying – trying – to save me from taking risks.

And yet here I am, taking this risk right now.

I may regret this post, you know. I may regret this whole website one day, but in the end I want to know what works. I want to see what happens. I want to develop a little more character. A little more confidence. A little more belief. I want to be able to say with some credibility that things work out in the end.

So I’m trying.

You can too.

Just thought you should know.

bottom of page