April’s come and gone. It seems like only one day passed. I wonder if I should just surrender to the passage of time, if that would slow down my experience of it. The thing is, surrendering seems like saying “ok, I’ll go on the fastest roller coaster ride there is”.
I hate roller coaster rides. They’re exciting afterwards, when the torture is over and you’ve got all that lovely adrenalin flowing through your blood. But with the passage-of-time roller coaster, what’s at the end? Maybe it’s more exciting than now. Nice thought. Hamlet had this debate.
Surrender seems like a smart thing to do in principle, whether it’s to the passage of time or to the idea that life will support me when I’m most afraid it won’t. Times I’ve been able to do it have always resulted in something exciting and positive.
It seems true enough to say that if I try to control my life, my experience will be defined by my total inability to create circumstance, or move people around and arrange them so they meet at the right time and the right place. I mean, when I finished my script, I couldn’t control that Robert de Niro would be in town, could I? And all the people who are supposed to stop people like me getting my script to him couldn’t control that I slipped through the barriers. I did as much as I could do, and I had to let something else take care of the rest.
If I try to control my world, I limit myself to what I can do. It’s obviously not enough. If I do my bit then surrender and say “it’s over to you life, now, to do your bit” then maybe – just maybe – I open up myself and my world to a phenomenal creativity. Maybe that’s how I get to experience a better quality of life. Let go and let God, whatever God means to you.
Maybe that’s how I step out of history.
It’s one thing doing it when you’ve written a film script, but I’m trying to control my world these days because I’ve reached a point where from week to week I don’t have enough to eat properly. My heart has gone into overdrive again, I’m having panic attacks most days and it’s often hard to breathe. I’ve been working for no money for about six months now, building my blog, learning about internet marketing, writing articles for SearchWarp, writing another script, earning money miscellaneously when opportunities arise, selling furniture.
The opportunities seem to get further and further apart, and the furniture I have left belongs to my mother. My material world feels like it’s closing in on me. The only place where there’s no material restriction is with my creativity, so I’m doing what I can – but the stress is getting in the way! It’s almost comical.
I want to say the stress is caused by not having enough money. But maybe it’s more about giving in to the idea that I’m a loser, that I’ll never be able to change and that I don’t deserve any more support or opportunities.
Are those ideas really the truth about life? It’s unlikely, but it’s one thing knowing something intellectually. It’s another knowing it in your heart and soul when most of your life’s experience seems to have proved them true. I’ve asked for help lots of times in my life. Am I in an addictive pattern?
The question I ask myself is this: is this challenge about dealing with fear and old ideas that still carry too much weight with me, or have I begun to slip too far down Maslow’s hierarchy of needs?
Is it time for me to surrender and say “yes, this is an addictive thing, and until I can generate funds I don’t deserve to visit a doctor to make sure my heart is okay, or to eat properly or have decent warm clothes for winter”? Must I use this opportunity to gain strength of mind, or is it time for me to actually take control and go out and ask for more support? My brother is the person I have in mind. I could offer him the security of ceding the amount to him from whatever I inherit when my mother dies.
The idea of doing it makes me want to run for the hills.