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Wrestling with “I’m an idiot today” and continual barrage of gloom and doom “what ifs”. Throat tight, voice constricted, images of people laughing at me – or worse, feeling sorry for me. Shame, she really thought she could do it, isn’t she pathetic? Since there was nobody in my apartment but me, clearly the images were reflection of insane mind. The best I could do was say “go to hell” and carry on with those vocal exercises anyway. After a while everything loosened up.
Sang “They All Laughed”. They all laughed at Christopher Columbus when he said the world was round. They all laughed when Edison recorded sound. They all laughed at Wilbur and his brother, when they said that man could fly. They told Marconi wireless was a phony, it’s the same old cry. They laughed at me wanting you, said I was reaching for the moon, but oh you came through. Now they’ll have to change their tune… It’s a love song, but it applies to dreams also and all the negative things people and your own mind tell you.
Last night I saw a documentary about a woman who set sail across the Pacific with her fiancé to deliver a boat to Hawaii. It was hurricane season but they crossed their fingers and did it anyway – for $10,000. Within days a big storm started building in their path. They could have turned back but didn’t. Then it was too late and they hit the eye of the hurricane. No turning back now. He sent her below decks. She was knocked out. When she came to, the storm was over but the boat was a wreck.
In shock, badly bruised and cut, she stumbled up on deck. He was gone. She was in the middle of the Pacific with barely enough food and water. Sails shredded, no radio, no engine. During the next 22 days she rigged a small sail and navigated towards Hawaii using a sextant, knowing if she missed she’d run out of food and water. Terrorized, grieving, totally alone, she nearly lost her mind.
One day, after a month, she spied land in the distance! A plane flew over, so close she could see the pilot. She sent up a flare, screamed and shouted. He didn’t see her. Clouds descended, and hid the land. She thought she’d gone mad and was hallucinating. She went and got a rifle, put it into her mouth, tasting the metal. But she couldn’t do it. The clouds cleared again, and there was Hawaii.
The darkest hour is just before dawn. Your demons will tell you there’s no hope. They seem very logical and believable. People might even tell you the same thing. You can listen to them if you want, but it’s your funeral then. You don’t have to give up. You can’t see what’s round the corner. Shut the door on people and demons with their what-ifs, be independent of them. Get out and do your thing anyway.
And happy 4th of July, America!