I don't know where to start. Should I start with the part where I didn't write for 2 months, or the part where I said I wanted to make this a more regular thing? Let's go back a little bit, shall we? To a happier time and place....
Rewind about 6 months. It's March... I'm finding out that I'm not going to grad school, I'm not moving anywhere exciting, and The OK Factor is in its beginning stages of rock. I'm making Pinterest boards to inspire me about what's next after graduation. It's full of places I want to travel, things I should do, quotes to keep me motivated. I call my parents, confess that I'm probably moving back in with them, and they welcome me back with open arms, qualm my fears with promises of a gym membership and a room remodel. I'm feeling good about the move, I'm still surrounded by my best friends, creating new music, thinking about all the excellent things I'm going to accomplish with a year off.
Then I graduate. OK moves to Minneapolis for an awesome summer residency. We kick butt, play tons of shows, do some recording. We plan carefully for the year ahead. We do a final house show, and part ways. I spend a week reorganizing and worrying, sell my car, pack up my belongings in six suitcases, and fly home.
So here I am, about a month into my post-grad life (the summer doesn't count). I've set up a teaching studio with a good number of students, I'm playing at a couple churches, open mics, and jazz nights. I'm preparing my room to paint, looking at a couple new pieces to make the room more than just a bed and a bookshelf. OK is still going, we have a couple gigs coming up this fall, and a business meeting this Saturday. My diploma sits on a little shelf on the wall, reminding me of where I've been. I have a couple friends here, but it's mostly me and my mom, plus my dad on weekends when he's home from trips. I've planned my holidays out to split between here and Wisconsin, I've told people that I can only commit to things for a year, and that I don't know what next summer looks like. I recently discovered that chalkboard art is AWESOME, and I'm not bad at it. Money is tight, but I've found a way to make it to Starbucks for my "city" atmosphere at least once a week.
.... Do I sound less than happy? Do I sound a little underwhelmed? Maybe a little complacent?
Yeah. I think so, too.
So here's the dilemma. Let me just lay this out for you --
I realize I am not the only twenty-something trying to figure life out. I totally get that I am one among millions of other post-grads biding time while they get their stuff together. I've accepted these facts, and am trying to cope with them. But let me just say that I never thought I would be in this place. I never once thought, even for a minute, throughout high school and early college at least, that I would be living at home after college. I love my family and my home, but ever since I was told that I had even a pinch of talent, I've been dreaming of living in an apartment in a city, two blocks from a great coffee shop and a bus away from my gig that night. I got a taste of that this summer, and loved it.
The real problem, though, is not that I'm living at home or woe-is-me-I'm-a-poor-educated-kid-with-a-bright-future-dammit. No, no. The problem for me as of late is that I am complacent. I am passionless. I lack the spark and oomph that a twenty-something should have, that excitement that I actually used to have a few years ago. I basically don't feel much of anything these days, except for the rare occasion that I write a good groove or I get to see that cute boy of mine who lives in Wisconsin.
Thinking about the future should keep me motivated, but just makes me feel stuck. Dwelling on the past and how I thought things would turn out just digs me deeper in a rut. And being aware of my present situation tends to make me sad. So what's a girl to do?
I like TED talks. I read books like Decisive, Talent Is Never Enough, and The Mindful Way Through Anxiety. I follow business coaches and great work enthusiasts on Twitter. But for all the positive energy they give me, it never lasts. I am discovering that not only am I my own problem (hasn't that always been the case?), but I am also responsible for getting myself out of this rut. Everything I believe and every thought of mine that goes into the universe is directly related to my situation.
And hasn't this blog always been the space for me to complain, for me to just leave you with life lessons that I discovered, but have yet to put into practice? Haven't I always seemed to find something wrong with me, and then gone on to tell you about it in 1,000 words or less, sometimes more?
This is the point where I need to make a change. If I'm going to rewire my entire brain space to help me move on with my life, the only way I see to do that is to stop complaining. And therefore, I must cease this project. I want always to be a project, to improve myself and become a better human being, but I want to be a new project. I want to be a project that is worth working on, and that requires relinquishing my self-deprecation. I want a place where I feel like it's okay for me to figure out life in a new way, and this space has become a place where I come to when I want to complain and justify my feelings, not to mention seek validation from the blogosphere.
So, I leave you here. Hopefully I will also leave my complacency, anxiety, and negativity behind. Wish me luck, keep following The OK Factor, and maybe someday we can laugh about this blog together.
'Till then, here's to new spaces, chai tea lattes, and moving on.
