I opened my notebook tonight and found two words inside the cover, with a familiar voice speaking them in my mind.
Begin again.
I woke up my iPod and chose the song I wanted to start writing to, and the voice of a great musician - a guy I met named Ziv - spoke to me:
Forgive everyone you know...'cause they were once a child too.
Forgive yourself and love again.
You've been waiting for it.
C: Welcome back to the right side of your brain.
S: Ahh, is that where my heart was all along?
C: So how have you been? Has work been that good, to take you away from doing all of this creative stuff?
S: You know what...I feel like I sold out. I let it become the main thing, and then writing and playing music became a distraction.
C: Who the hell is that person? I mean, okay, the job is great and all, but I seriously don't care about the fun stuff you get to do. You live when you write. If you don't get that out of your system, there goes a year with nothing to show for it.
S: I...you know, I get it, and for many reasons I've...been given a little clarity right now. But don't think I lost anything, because I haven't
C: I know. I can see that. I watched you lost in thought for two hours. I recognize that person.
S: It's a little scary.
C: Why?
S: When I get an idea like this, it turns and evolves, it needs to live and come into focus. There is a crazy need to get it out of me so I can start working with it. (pause) You know what? It's kind of like the guy from Close Encounters.
C: Is there a huge sculpture made of garbage in your living room? Tell me honestly if you're going insane because...well, wait a minute...this conversation is taking place, so....
S: No, I just always have it in the back of my mind. I'm fully inspired and filled with urgency. I'm writing notes on napkins and jumping from one medium to another. I'm a total freak at work, but people seem to enjoy seeing my brain fire up like this.
C: Okay....
S: Okay...what?
C: So I don't get it. What's the problem?
S: I don't have a problem.
C: I look over your head and I see a cloud of...I don't know, everything. It's hard to describe. There's more going on than this new project you're working on.
S: Really?
C: Do you remember the first time we talked?
S: Ohhh crap. That was a long time ago. It was...1987, right?
C: On a grassy hill, with the sun and wind tossing clouds across the sky. I remember how you had some distance from the thing you were dealing with and were trying to reconcile the lingering thoughts, the stuff that just wouldn't tie up neatly.
S: Yeah. It's weird to think about what it meant then.
C: So listen, I have known the intimate workings of your beating heart for a very long time, and I have seen every accomplishment you've had since what feels like the beginning of time. I know when you're afraid to ask for something and when you're taking a jump in evolution. This project is symptomatic of something else.
S: I don't like that you know this much about me.
C: So?
S: There are some things that I keep to myself.
C: Yeah, I know. But I do want to tell you something. (pause) It is altogether okay to have something other than...an invention completely of your own doing.
And there's no response. The song playing over the speakers by Jenny Owen Youngs - I shit you not - says:
I'll draw up the blue prints but i'll never use them.
Now i've only ever offered you myself and you always say it's not enough.
S: That's an old voice talking.
C: Isn't it weird to think about what it meant back then?
S: Oh, God. I hate it when things fall into place and you say something with such...fucking clarity that I can't explain it away. I like my struggle...sometimes.
C: Yeah, I know that one. You don't always have to earn things you get. Sometimes you get rewarded for good things you've done without realizing you've done them. Just take it. Ask for it. Whatever it is you don't want to talk about, take a step back and look, okay? It's easier than you sometimes make it out to be.
S: I'm a complicated person.
C: Not from where I'm standing.
S: Yeah. Thanks.
C: Okay...empty now?
S: It's good enough.
John Mayer now keeps asking me - and he's being persistent:
Do i have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?
The answer might have been an obvious denial for a long time, but it's pretty clear that the simple truth is that right now it doesn't feel anything like it used to. Right now, the Law of Proximity is pretty much in full effect.
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