20 20’s Hindsights

This week will mark the 20th piece that I have written since I started this here blog back in February. In that spirit, I’ve decided to come up with a concept for this one that ties into that number. So here’s what I’ve got. Now that I’m a few years into my thirties, it’s pretty wild to think about how my feelings and philosophies have evolved since I was just a kid trying to figure out how life works. So without further ado, here are 20 lessons I learned in my 20’s in no particular order.

20) Things don’t always happen for a reason

This may fly in the face of your beliefs, and if you are the kind of person that believes that everything does happen for a reason, please don’t take this to mean that I’m saying you’re wrong. I’m only speaking to my experience. Everyone gets thrown countless curveballs over the course of their existence, and oftentimes there may seem to be no rhyme or reason why. What I do believe is not so much that there’s a universal explanation behind those things happening, but that if you respond to those events in a constructive way, life has a way of putting you right where you’re supposed to be, whether that be mentally or physically.

Having said that, sometimes life deals people a particularly shitty hand, and the hills they have to climb to overcome those things may seem more like mountains. That’s why I have to stop short of saying something cheesy like “anything is possible with the right attitude!” because life is a lot more difficult than any dumbass motivational poster with a cat on it can capture.

19) You are the only person who can prioritize your own happiness

Happiness is not a given. If you’re like me and you’ve struggled with depression, you know how exhausting it can be to try to dig yourself out of it. Leaning on people you love is an important part of finding your way. And there’s no doubt that having a strong support system is hugely important. I’m blessed to be able to say unequivocally that I do. But it took me making some extremely difficult decisions and making my happiness a priority to get to a place where being content with my life and my surroundings is at least the baseline that has set me up to be able to move forward. No one else is going to do that for you.

18) No one should be defined by what they do for a living, because nobody is just one thing

I used to work in sports radio in New York. I loved that job. Now I work as a server in a restaurant. I can’t say I love it. But when I talk about what makes me who I am, neither of those things would be one of the first five or six things I would mention. I have occupational goals for myself that I haven’t attained yet. But even if and when I do, it won’t be what defines me. That’s because before I would describe myself by what I do to make money, I’d tell you about the character attributes that make up who I actually am. I’d tell you about how I try to present myself to the world. It’s only as we go further down the list that I’d mention that, oh yeah, I also love writing and broadcasting and that those are things I’m passionate enough about that I hope to be able to monetize them enough that one day I can make a living.

17) Change isn’t always good, but when you decide to make the change yourself it usually is

I absolutely detest the phrase “change is a good thing!” That’s because every one of us has had to endure a change in their life that they didn’t ask for and they didn’t want. But when you decide that you need to make a change for the better, pulling the trigger on those kinds of decisions often lead to the most fulfilling experiences imaginable. Case in point, my decision to leave radio and the only home I’ve ever known to come to Vancouver and start anew. My life is so much better for that decision. It’s changes like that which I decided to make for myself that have always been the ones that have paid dividends.

16) You can’t half-ass love

I’m sure many of us have been in a relationship before that we were in just for the sake of being in a relationship. That has never, and will never be enough to make love work. Hell, I was in a relationship like that for six years at one point. It wasn’t fair to either one of us. All it did was make the heartbreak feel worse when it inevitably ended. If you love someone and want to be with them, you either go all in or you don’t go in at all.

15) Work to live, don’t live to work

This is not to say that having a strong work ethic isn’t important. But no one should have to be in a position where 80 to 90 percent of what their life is made up of is working. There’s an exception to this if you genuinely love what you do. But in those cases, working and living are often more intertwined. For most of us, six or seven-day work weeks are draining and leave you with little or no time to actually experience what life is all about. Even if you have to make room for fun in your schedule by planning it out ahead of time, fucking do it. Because devoting too much of your time to working a job you don’t love is an absolute soul sucker.

14) Mistakes are a part of the process

Hey, guess what? You’re gonna fuck up. A lot. Embrace it and learn from it. What’s the old saying about the definition of insanity? It’s when you keep doing the same things and expecting different results. Try doing things whichever way you see fit. Fail at it. And then try it again a different way.

13) There is no use in trying to curry favor with people who don’t give a shit about you

This could apply to anyone from a boss to a friend. But when people make it abundantly clear that they don’t have your best interests in mind, there is no use in trying to win them over and have them come around. That shit just ain’t gonna happen.

12) Set boundaries

To be honest, this is one that I still haven’t fully learned yet. But I’m working on it. If you feel like people are regularly taking your kindness for granted and walking all over you, it’s likely because to some extent you’re allowing it to happen. Put your foot down when someone crosses the line. It may be uncomfortable, especially when it’s someone you care about who is responsible, but if they care about you, they’ll respect what you’re saying. You don’t have to put up with bullshit just to make it easier for people to like you. Take a stand when you feel like you’re being taken advantage of.

11) Talk less, listen more

When people come to you with a problem, it’s not always advice that they’re looking for. Sometimes we just want to feel like we’re being heard. So many of us keep our feelings bottled up inside because we don’t want to bother anyone else with our bullshit. But I would hope we’ve all had the experience of how liberating it can feel to just say the things we’re thinking out loud to someone who isn’t going to judge or feel it necessary to respond. Oftentimes the response can come off as defensive or just be completely unnecessary. There’s a lot of power that can be derived from simply hearing someone out and validating what they are feeling.

10) Never deny what you’re feeling

Don’t say “I’m fine” if you’re not fine. That isn’t a show of strength. It’s a show of denial, and it’s 100% counterproductive. Communication is everything. There’s also a difference between allowing yourself to feel sad as opposed to wallowing in it. The former is not only acceptable, it’s important. The latter is when it’s time to do something about it.

9) Prioritize self care

This feeds back into what I was talking about with the whole “don’t live to work” message, but I can’t stress enough how important it is to give yourself a break if you need to give your brain a rest. Get outside. See your friends. Be with family. Or if it’s what you really need, just stay inside and do nothing all day. Play video games. Read a book. Listen to music. Some people might refer to some of these things as distractions or a waste of time. But I’d tell you we all need to be distracted from the grind of everyday life from time to time. This shit is exhausting.

8) It’s ok to ask for help

Independence is a wonderful thing. But if everything you do is an independent venture, you’re fucked. We all need to lean on others to keep going sometimes. Surround yourself with the right people, and feed off of each other. Needing help isn’t a sign of being weak. In fact, having the wherewithal to understand that you can’t do it on your own and reaching out to those you trust to help you is an indicator that you’re mentally tough enough to understand that what you’re exposing isn’t your weakness. If anything, all you’re exposing is your humanity.

7) Strive for improvement over perfection

No one and nothing is perfect. So don’t try to make it perfect. Just make it better. Even if you take a step back, understand that’s normal. Progress is never a straight line. There will always be peaks and valleys. Just stay with it and you’ll be fine as long as you’re approach is sound.

6) Romantic relationships won’t “fix” you

If you are self-aware enough and feel like you still have a lot of work to do on yourself, getting into a committed romantic relationship may be the worst thing you can do during that process. Being lonely sucks, but I find that to be much more preferable than heaping your baggage onto another person in hopes that they can help lift you out of your issues. A romantic partner shouldn’t be there to play the role of savior. That’s not a symbiotic relationship, and it can be extremely harmful.

5) Understand that you don’t always understand

Lord knows I’ve faced my share of difficulties throughtout the course of my life, but all things considered, I’ve lived a pretty blessed existence. I can’t even begin to wrap my head around some of the things that those less fortunate than myself have had to endure. That’s one of the reasons why this attitude of “just lift yourself up by your boot straps” that so many people have towards those living in poverty bothers me so much. Compassion runs woefully thin in our modern society. And that’s a goddamn shame. It’s infuriating to people who are struggling to hear condescending advice from people who have absolutely no grasp on what it’s like to be in their position. So to all those who think they have the answers to everyone’s problems, you don’t. So knock that shit off.

4) Comapring yourself to others is useless

This has been a tough one for me. I tried carving out a career for myself at a place where I was surrounded by people way more accomplished than me. Even now, I look at the amazing work being done by some of my friends and former coworkers and it makes me feel inferior by comparison. But I recognize I have to stop that. Everyone is on their own timeline, and just because you may not be where you want to be yet doesn’t mean you won’t get there. The comparison game is not only useless, it’s damaging to your confidence and your overall psyche. Just do you.

3) Never read the comments/replies

I mean, of course I do read them. But I almost always regret it. Social media is a wonderful thing in a lot of ways, but it’s also a cesspool of human misery. I’ve vowed to do my best to never take to heart the thoughts that some anonymous jag has submitted from behind the safety of their keyboard. You know what’s all the rage these days? Rage. And most of it is useless bullshit that you’d be better off not even allowing to enter your mind.

2) Strive to do things that scare you

Facing down fear is an oppprtunity for growth. There are things that I strive to do with my life that scare the shit out of me. But that’s part of the reason I want to do them. I remember how nervous I was about hosting a three-hour talk show on the radio. But that experience is on a short list of the cooler things I’ve ever done in my life. In fact, when I think about what scares me, most of that fear comes from the worry that I will invest my time and energy into something and put myself out there only for the people in my audience to hate it. But there’s also an inevitability that not everyone is going to like everything I do. Embrace the fear. Many times it helps you rise to the occasion.

1) Maintaining a positive mindset is as rewarding as it is difficult

Oh boy. After all that talk about not wanting to be cheesy, I’m ending on a note that could be on one of those cat posters. Oops. But this one is just too true not to include. Let me make this clear. When you’re depressed, it’s very easy to succumb to negative thoughts. All you have to do is nothing. Feelings of sadness are intrusive, and can take over a depressed mind with ease.

Recognizing the need for change and then enacting that change are two separate steps in the path out of that cycle. The first one is easy. The second step is anything but. But with a change in mindset and the help of others, you can get to a place where you find yourself on the other side of that negativity, and you’ll likely find yourself in a place where life is actually easier to live. Don’t get me wrong. That doesn’t mean everything will always be peaches and cream. There isn’t a permanent fix for depression. But that’s why I used the word maintaining a positive mindset. Just like any piece of machinery, our brains need maintenance from time to time. So be kind to yourself.

When I was at my deepest depths, I was the one who treated myself the worst. In my own mind, there were times I felt I was worthless and that my life was hard because that’s what I deserved. That’s a dangerous way to think. It wasn’t easy to reverse that mental pattern, and it took some massive change, but coming out on the other side of it has allowed me to frame things in a more positive perspective. That doesn’t mean I’m free from the struggles that dealing with depression entails, but I am better equipped to deal with them now than I have ever been before.

I’ve still got a lot to learn. At 33, I’m a young man with so much still left to experience and grow from. Even though my 20’s weren’t necessarily the best years of my life like many people seem to think of them as, they sure did teach me a lot about how life works. I hope none of what I wrote here comes off as preachy, because that certainly wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to share some thoughts about how growing up has informed my perspective.

If anything I’ve said here strikes a chord with you, I’d love to hear from you about your experiences. Leave a comment below or find me on Twitter @MaxMadeATweet. I hope you’ll be back next week when I will likely go back to writing about something a little less weighty. Until then, take care of yourselves.

Legacy and Lament: How I Remember My Dad

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I was asked a deep question this past week that was clearly supposed to be difficult to answer. The question was simple: If you could only have one thing in this life, what would it be? Don’t ask me what prompted this person to ask me this question. I have no earthly idea. But after a brief pause to let the premise of the question wash over me, I realized I already knew what my answer was. It’s something I’ve thought about many times before, even if it wasn’t necessarily in that exact context. All I really want…is to create a legacy.

The thing that was particularly apropos about the timing of when this question was posed to me is that it came within 24 hours of a significant anniversary of one of those days in my life that will stick with me forever. May 28, 2014 was the day my father died. And when we’re talking about the concept of a legacy, there is no question that my dad undeniably left one. It is as complicated and imperfect as a legacy could be, but it’s one that impacts me now and will continue to impact me for the rest of my life.

That may sound as though I carry it like a weight on my shoulders, and if I’m being honest, in some ways I do. Lord knows that the events surrounding the last year of his life have brought untold amounts of pain to me and my family. But the totality of the impact he made on the person I’ve become is impossible to ignore, and it’s something I will always be grateful for.

My dad was as close to a rock star as a person could be without being an actual rock star. He rose through the ranks of FM radio until he made it onto WNEW in New York City. In his heyday, he was the host of the Dave Herman Rock & Roll Morning Show, and he was so good at what he did. What I remain most impressed by is how he was able to be on the forefront of so many ideas that moved the industry forward. He created an on-air persona for himself that seemed larger than life. I’m talking about a guy who was rubbing elbows with everyone from The Beatles to Bruce Springsteen to Paul Simon. In fact, if you listen to the live album 11.17.70, the voice that introduces Elton freakin’ John to the audience is my father. That’s pretty damn cool if I do say so myself.

But I wasn’t even born yet during the prime of his career. Even towards the end of his run on the air, I was just a child. I didn’t comprehend at the time the magnitude of what he was doing for a living. I couldn’t. To me, he was always just Dad. All of the perks that came with being this radio star’s son just seemed normal to me. It was all I knew.

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Me and my mom just chillin with Peter and Barbara Frampton

My dad was always there for me. When I made the varsity baseball team in high school, he was a fixture at all of my games. He’s the guy who made me a Yankee fan, which also served as my initial introduction into the world of sports, even if he wasn’t the kind of fanatic that I turned out to be. If you know my previous work at all, you know how important the impact that combining a love of sports with a passion for broadcasting has made on my life. Would I have ever entered into the world of sports radio if it weren’t for him? The answer to that question is an easy no.

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The time I met my first baseball hero, Don Mattingly, at an event my dad hosted for K-ROCK

But of course, it was much more than that. Some of the best advice I’ve ever received when it comes to life, love and everything else came out of his mouth. I’ll never forget how he would constantly remind me to do my best to only focus on the things that I have control over, and to worry less about the things that I can’t. That’s the kind of advice that may seem obvious, but to have it framed in those terms was so important to my development as a goal-oriented human being. It’s something that I remind myself of on a weekly basis.

What I’m getting at with all of this is that when it came to simply being a father, Dave knocked it out of the park. At least he did with me. What bothers me is that he didn’t do it for all of his kids. I don’t want to speak to the experience of my siblings, simply because I don’t want to pretend I know their stories better than they do. But I can say for sure that my younger brother did not get the same parent that I did. I was already seven years old by the time Sam was born, and there’s a sense that after raising three other kids over the range of most of his adult life, he just wasn’t ready or willing to do it again at that point.

But without question, if we’re narrowing down the conversation about my dad to only include the context of the job he did raising me, there’s not much negative I could possibly say. Man, if only it were that simple…

Now is the part where things get a lot more difficult for me to talk about. But I’m gonna try. My parents began the process of getting divorced when I was in my early teens. I say process, because it dragged on for years. That time was a dark period marred by legal proceedings, lawyers, custody hearings and therapy sessions that sent my family’s life into calamity. And with all of the good will my father had built with me over the course of my childhood, he would use that to play me like a pawn in the chess match he waged against my mom.

The gaslighting job he did on my mother was executed with such precision, it makes me nauseuous to think about knowing what I know now. He would create situations to make her seem as though she was crazy, and it was so effective, there was a time I actually believed she was. If he was the puppeteer, I was his unwitting marionette.

From my perspective at the time, it seemed like my mom was constantly manic for no reason. What I didn’t realize was that the things that were setting her off coincided with all of these audacious legal maneuvers my dad was attempting behind the scenes. But I didn’t have any grasp of what was going on in that arena. So when I would arrogantly defend my dad, she would understandably lash out at me. When it was happening, my thought process was, “There goes Mom, acting crazy again.” But now I get it. There’s no need for me to get into specifics, but some of the things he did through the courts were absolutely preposterous. And yet somehow, he managed to get everything he wanted.

The result of all of this was that my mom finally realized she needed to get as far away from this place as possible. It was in 2002 that she moved to Vancouver, and that left me and my brother in New Jersey with our dad maintaining full custody. My relationship with my mother was strained so badly that we didn’t even talk for long stretches of time. She and I would reconcile in the following years, and I couldn’t be happier to say that at this point in my life, my relationship with her has never been better. I love her with every piece of my soul, and I’m so blessed to have her influence back in my life. But the thing that devastates me is the realization that for a large chunk of my growth from teenager to young adult, she wasn’t there. There’s no telling how much of a difference her presence would have made in my life during those years, but there’s no doubt she would have made a huge one. Instead, I had to learn how to grow up without my mom. And she had to live with the sting of having her children ripped away from her. Frankly, the blame for that rests squarely on my father’s shoulders.

The family separation would only continue in the following years. In 2005, my dad had designs on living out the rest of his retirement in the Virgin Islands. So despite all of the talk about how crazy my mom was, he wasn’t going to let that ruse mess up his plans on building his dream home in the Caribbean. With me already out of the nest and off at college, and with him having no desire to be a single parent to my now 11-year-old brother, he shipped Sam off to live with my mom in Vancouver. That was a devastating blow to me. My brother and I have always been attached at the hip. In the moment, I kicked and screamed in opposition to the idea that he would be moving to the opposite end of the continent. Of course, that move would be instrumental in my brother blossoming into the brilliant young man he has become. So it’s hard for me to be upset about it now. Also, he and I now share an apartment and are as close as we’ve ever been before. That, my friends, is a beautiful thing.

I fondly remember the trips I made to St. Croix to visit my dad. With him living there, it was an easy excuse to take a Caribbean vacation every year, and his house was a beautiful place with an incredible view overlooking the water.

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The pool was pretty sweet too

We had such great times enjoying the beaches and joining him at a local watering hole called Off The Wall for Bingo night, an event that he would host every month as only he could. Right until the end, my dad was an entertainer, even when his audience was 30 drunk people just trying to win a beer koozie. I can’t stress enough how funny this man was. Sometimes it was unintentional, and we would be laughing at his expense. But the guy always oozed personality.

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Despite our relation to the host, my brother and I never won a damn thing at these Bingo nights. But we sure did have fun.

But I can’t say that I ever felt like this was the right place for him to be. I mean, here was this 70-year-old dude from the Bronx trying to adjust to “island time” and spending his days mostly in isolation. There was always something off about it. It just didn’t really fit. And clearly, something changed in him during his time there.

It’s not like there was ever an interaction I had with him where I was like, “Whoa, what’s going on with dad?” It was more just this sense that he didn’t belong there. My dad was a people person, and he didn’t really have a lot of people around him while he was there. Sure, he got along great with his neighbors, and the Bingo nights gave him an opportunity to schmooze with the locals. It just didn’t seem like it was really his kind of scene.

Even in the time that I spent there, he would spend an inordinate amount of time every day on his computer. There was nothing particularly alarming about that at the time, but let me ask you: If you were living in a tropical paradise, would you be logging hours upon hours online with a plethora of incredible outdoor activities to choose from a short drive away? I don’t know. It just felt like it was defeating the purpose of why someone would choose to live in a place like St. Croix.

And then it happened. It was in October of 2013 that my life changed forever…

I had just taken my seat aboard a train headed back to New Jersey after a lovely visit with my friends in Philadelphia. My brother’s birthday was the following day, and since he was attending NYU at the time, I was excited to get back so I could spend some quality time with him. But as I sat down, I answered my ringing cell phone to find my sister, Jenny, on the other end. I immediately could tell based on her tone that something was horribly wrong. When I asked her what was up, she ominously responded, “Did you hear about Dad?”

Naturally, I thought for sure she was about to tell me that he had passed away somehow. After all, he was not a young man and he had undergone open-heart surgery less than a decade prior. Instead, I learned that my dad had been arrested that day. By Homeland Security. In a sting operation. For sex crimes.

I was numb. I rode that train for an hour and a half in dead silence. I can’t for the life of me remember what was going through my head. I don’t know if anything was. I completely disassociated from my surroundings. Could it possibly be true? Was this some kind of sick joke?

I finally got home and laid my head down on my pillow. And then every single repercussion of what this news meant hit me all at once. I would say I cried myself to sleep, but I didn’t sleep a wink that night. I was heartbroken for my family. I was heartbroken for me. But then came the aftershocks. I realized this was going to be in the newspapers. I knew I was supposed to go into work at my New York City radio job the next day. Obviously, my bosses excused me from work and told me to take as much time as I needed before coming back. But the headlines reached me nonetheless.

It may sound strange for me to say, but in my mind, my father died twice. The day he was arrested was the day the man who raised me somehow ceased to exist. I only spoke to him over the phone one more time. He called me from jail on my birthday the following April, and even though he poured his heart out to me, I wasn’t really interested in hearing what he had to say at the time. I was still too angry, even if I was holding out hope that he was innocent as he claimed to be. I couldn’t bring myself to visit him in prison, despite the fact that he had been extradited to Newark – which in a unique twist of fate just so happened to be the same city I was living in at the time.

The last and only time I saw him after his arrest was the night before he died. Jenny had called me that day to tell me that he was having medical complications and that this would likely be my last chance. Seeing him laying in that hospital bed was incredibly uncomfortable, but I’m so happy I was there. His face lit up when he saw me. For a man who was literally on death’s door, he squeezed me so tightly in an embrace that I was ready for him to jump out of the bed and pull the IV out of his arm.

Even though he was pretty heavily medicated, he couldn’t have been more coherent when he started telling me how proud he was of me. Just as I had always been his biggest fan, he made it clear that he too was mine. He told me how he was able to get a radio in his cell and that he would listen to me every night I was on the air. He joked that one day I should take over for John Sterling as the play-by-play voice of the Yankees.

It was in that moment that a lot of the bitterness I felt started to melt away. I didn’t want to be angry. I just wanted to love my dad and be there for him just as he had been there for me so many times before. So that’s what I did.

For a while, he couldn’t seem to grasp the gravity of what was happening, that he was nearing the end. My sisters and I tried our best to communicate with him what the situation was. Finally, I did my best to cut through the noise and give it to him straight. I told him that either the doctors could plug him into a machine, and they could keep him alive…or…

And he stopped me right there with an emphatic, “NO.” So all that was left for me to say through my tears was, “Then it’s time to say goodbye.”

For all of the things that tear me up inside about this story, the thing I’m most grateful for is that the last words I said to my father were, “I love you.” Because I do. I always have, and I always will.

My dad was my hero. And even though he did some unforgivable things that crossed into the realm of sociopathy, it would be foolish of me to ignore all of the good in my life that he is directly responsible for. He’s the reason I’m a broadcaster. He’s the reason I’m a sports fan. But most importantly, in so many ways, he’s the reason I’m me.

When I’m gone, I want to be remembered for my legacy, not just the mistakes I’ve made. And even though some mistakes are far worse than others, my dad’s legacy remains in tact. That’s because even if his reputation is in tatters, the legacy of broadcasting will live on through me. The legacy of music will live on through my brother. The legacy of being revolutionary in our field will live on through both of us. You might not know that yet, but you’re damn sure going to before long.

So as we approach Father’s Day, I’d like to raise a glass to Dave Herman. A ground-breaker. A brilliant mind. A star. And yes, a deeply flawed human being. There’s so much about the events of his life I’ll never understand. But the best job he ever did was as my father. He did so much right. I refuse to only remember him for his wrongs, even if I can’t ever forget them. I love you, Dad. Rest in peace. Shine on you crazy diamond.

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Sorry, I Suck Today

This blog feels like work today. And I hate it. Right now, my brother and his record label mates are making a beautiful song in the next room, and all I want to do is immerse myself in that process with them. But if I don’t do what I said from the beginning I was going to do with this space, then I’m going to feel as though I’ve failed the day. And I wont allow myself to do that.

I said I was going to write every Monday, and if I just decide to take a day off, then what’s stopping me from taking next Monday off, or the Monday after that. I can’t do that. I wont.

Maybe this is me putting unnecessary pressure on myself. But whatever. Someone needs to put pressure on me creatively, and no one else is going to do it. It’s just another thing that makes this project mine.

I’m so fixated on the idea of being great at everything I do, I find myself being uncomfortable with the idea of just being fine on any given day. But I realize that’s a dangerous precedent to set for myself.

My brother has been a terrific sounding board for me, and he told me something not long ago that I need to take to heart. He even put it into a sports context, because he knew it would resonate with me more that way. Essentially what he said was, “You don’t need to go out and hit a home run every time you step up to the plate. Sometimes you just need to hit a single.”

And he’s right. So I guess that’s what I’ll view this post as. Just a little baseknock. Honestly, it kind of feels more like reaching base by getting hit by a pitch. But maybe this way, the next time I do hit one out of the park, there will be some runners on base. Is this sports analogy getting too convoluted? Yeah, it could be. But it’s actually working for me, so I’m gonna just roll with it.

My brain just feels locked up today. But I’m finding that it’s helping to work my way through it by doing what I love to do – writing about it. So I guess I’m not as lost as I think I am.

I just couldn’t stare at a blank screen anymore. It was giving me anxiety like you wouldn’t believe. So now I’ve got words here. They may not be the most inspiring words I’ll ever write, but part of what this blog was designed to be was an invitation for the reader to get into my headspace.

So this is what’s going on in my head today: I’m really fucking aggravated that I haven’t met my own standards of quality lately. I’m not going to let it be an indictment of my ability, but it sucks to feel like you’re not doing the best you can do. And frankly, I need to do better next week.

I already have a deeply meaningful post planned for later this month, because it will coincide with another one of those anniversaries of a significant life event. But until then, my goal is to approach next week’s post with a concrete idea and to execute that idea to the best of my ability. I know I have things to say. But all of my ideas for this week’s post either felt half-baked or just dumb.

It pisses me off to say this, but this is the best I can do today. I just need to feel like I’ve met my obligation to myself to write SOMETHING. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go wrtie a song or a poem now so I can feel a little bit more accomplished. See you next week. Sorry, I suck today.