Tag: mental-health

Stay The Course

It’s been a while since I’ve visited these pages. Had too much going on…or so I was led to believe. What does that even mean? Perhaps I should rephrase the statement and admit that I was distracted. Distracted by all the things that I allowed to get in the way of this pathway. I’ll say this now for emphasis and repeat it later for impact: STAY THE COURSE.

Someone asked me some time ago, “Who is your blog for?” I really didn’t consciously know. I said I just wrote because it was in me to write. I wanted to share experiences that would inspire others…I guess. I really hadn’t thought that deeply about it. I just felt it was something I needed to do. Of course, any question, whether it’s one I appreciate or not, finds its place at the conference table of my mind. Then it came to me. It’s for you.

You, the one taking the time to read these pages. You, the creative spirit manifest in the flesh. At times, as we all do, you will find yourself at a crossroads, not sure which direction is yours. I can go ahead and tell you now, to save you some time and trepidation. And since I know somebody is going to look it up and possibly get distracted, trepidation is basically a feeling of fear or anxiety about something that may happen. But here’s the thing: The right direction is the one you choose. And once you choose to march up to that path, whether it’s sunshine and rainbows or fire and brimstone, walk it like no one has walked it before, because they haven’t. It’s for you. Stay the course.

Take note that I said it’s the one YOU choose. Not the one you settle for. Not the one you’re left with. Not the one somebody else chose for you or you go with out of a sense of obligation. Not even necessarily the one that makes the most sense to everyone watching from the sidelines. It’s the one you choose.

This blog is for the ones who may not have chosen a traditional or easy path. It’s for the ones whose dreams are bigger than their bank accounts. It’s for the ones who have been told their ideas are too big, too strange, too impractical, too late, too early, or too much. It’s for the ones building something nobody else can quite see yet. And maybe most importantly, it’s for the ones who have started down the path and, somewhere along the way, got distracted. That’s where I kept finding myself. Distracted. Not defeated or lost just distracted. There is a difference. Life has a remarkable way of filling our hands with things that demand our attention while quietly stealing our attention from the things that matter most. One opportunity leads to another. One responsibility becomes five. We convince ourselves that we are simply busy when, sometimes, the truth is that we have allowed the important things to be pushed to the side by the urgent things. And before we know it, we’re standing somewhere we never intended to be, wondering how we got there.

That’s when we have to stop. Look around. Remember. Recalibrate. And choose again. Perhaps that’s what this season is for me; choosing again. Returning to the work with pointed intention. Returning to the words. Returning to the ideas that have been knocking on the door of my mind, waiting patiently for me to answer. Returning to the course. The reminders are always there. you hear them; something in a dream, a line in a movie or song, a word from a stranger, or a thought from the ether. You hear it calling. Calling you back to where you left off because the course doesn’t disappear just because you stepped away from it. The dream doesn’t expire because you get distracted. But eventually you will … so let that inspire you. The calling doesn’t vanish because you got tired and the vision doesn’t become less valid because it’s taking longer than you expected.

Sometimes you simply have to find your way back. And when you do, don’t waste time beating yourself up about where you’ve been. Get back in the saddle. Get back on the path. There will be days when you question the destination. There will be days when the path seems too long. There will be days when everybody else appears to be moving past you, according to instagram, facebook, or snapchat. There will be days when the bank account doesn’t line up with the vision. There will be days, more than a few, when the applause is absent. Keep walking, one step at a time, because every season is not about arriving. Some seasons are about becoming. Some seasons are about learning. Some are even about surviving. It’s all about preparing you for what you wanted for before you even knew how much preparation it would require. So if you’re standing at that crossroads right now, take a breath, a minute, a day. Choose your direction. DECIDE. Then move. And if you’ve already chosen your path but you’ve somehow wandered away from it, that’s alright too. Turn around and pick up where you left off. You haven’t missed your entire story because you took a detour. But please don’t confuse a detour with a destination. And don’t allow distraction to become a lifestyle.

STAY THE COURSE. I say it again because sometimes the things we need most are the things we need to hear repeatedly: Stay the course. Stay when it’s hard. Stay when it’s inconvenient. Stay when nobody understands. Stay when the vision seems foolish to everybody but you. Stay when the first version fails. Stay when the second version falters. Learn, adjust, and rebuild. But don’t abandon the path simply because the path became difficult. That’s what makes the distraction the attraction. There is something waiting on the other side of persistence that talent alone cannot reach. And maybe that’s why I’m back here. Not because I have figured it all out. Maybe, I’m back because I’m still figuring it out. And if you’re reading this, maybe you are too. So welcome back. Or perhaps, more appropriately… Welcome forward. The road is still there and the work is still calling. Right now, there is still time to become everything you were created to become. Take the step in front of you. Then take the next one. Don’t worry about seeing the whole road. I’m only asking you to take the next step, one at a time. And whatever you do… Stay the course.

Rest, Don’t Quit

Last week, I got up every day well before sunrise and kicked in with all eight barrels wide open and didn’t leave the studio until long after that ole sun had dipped below the horizon. For the last few months, large overlapping projects, no breath in between. No real pause. Just that headlong push— the kind, I admit a part of me relishes, leaning into the body temple like it’s an infinite source of fuel. Please note: even the most well built temple can crumble if it’s not respected. And truth be told, I’ve been known to test the limits of this vessel far too many times. Not out of recklessness—but out of love for the work, out of fire for the vision, and sometimes, if I’m honest, out of a lurking fear that if I stop, something might slip away.

Despite rapper and entrepreneur 50 cent’s declaration “Get Rich Or Die Trying”, pursuing your purpose shouldn’t have to kill you. Even the sun goes down. There’s a lesson the great orb in the heavens teaches every evening if we’re still enough to notice. That golden glow of descension isn’t a sign of quitting—it’s a sacred cue to transition. A reminder that even light knows when to rest. That beauty doesn’t just live in the blaze of midday hustle—but in the hush, the slow fade, the surrender, the rest.

Yet we so often glorify the grind (I’m not totally against it), wear exhaustion like a badge, and limp with a smirking pride. What if rest isn’t the enemy of progress—but its partner? What if stepping back now and then is how you step forward with intention? What if your goals need your soul to be whole and rested to rise? I’m learning continuously, even now, that discipline isn’t just about how hard we push. It’s really not so much about how fast or furious we plant, but how deliberate. Even then, we have to wait for the increase. It’s about knowing when to pause. Not to quit, but recalibrating. Not burning out, but burning slow and steady so the flame lasts. So this is me, telling myself and sharing with anybody else who needs to hear it. When the sun sets, let it be a cue. Let the studio close. Shut it down. Let the body breathe. Let the mind drift. Let the spirit sit in its quiet strength. It’s ok to rest. Just don’t quit.

In Search of Okay

This morning, as I lay in bed far past usual, with the sunlight spilling into the room, my mind circled around a familiar yet complicated idea of being okay. What does it really mean to be okay, to be alright? Not in the way we toss it around in passing conversations, but in the quiet, honest places within ourselves. On the path I’ve chosen — this project-based, often unpredictable existence as an artist, I find myself constantly moving between points — this project, that commission, this opportunity, that possibility. And in every moment, I realize I’m often searching for a position where I can quietly say to myself, I’m okay. Not necessarily victorious. Not defeated. Just okay. Okay with where I am, or where I thought I’d be by now. It’s a constant negotiation between expectation and acceptance.

When we meet people, we ask how they’re doing. “I’m okay.” “I’m alright.” Simple words that cover so much. Sometimes they’re true. Sometimes they’re placeholders. And sometimes, they’re shields we use to keep the deeper, heavier parts at bay. Lately, I’ve started to wonder — what do I mean when I say I want to be okay? Is it peace? Is it progress? Is it simply a quiet wrinkle in time where everything doesn’t feel like it’s pressing in? Am I hoping for a point in my life, or my work, where I can be completely alright with what is? And if so… does that place even exist, or are we forever chasing it, catching only glimpses as it moves just out of our reach?

I’m learning that maybe okay isn’t a permanent destination. Maybe it’s a fleeting pause — a breath — a fragile alignment between what’s happening around me and what’s happening within me. It’s the moment I stop measuring, stop chasing, and simply allow myself to be. Today, I’m in search of an okay that may not be a finish line or a reward, but a quiet, honest moment where I can say to myself, I’m alright… as I am, right here, right now. And maybe for today, that’s enough. So if you find yourself searching too, know that sometimes, okay isn’t a place you arrive at — it’s a moment you allow.