Everyone needs a break sometimes.
You need a day off. In fact, I think I need one right now.
Then again, I think I’ve told you about the song from Bill Joel called Vienna.
Right?
This world is a crazy place.
We are a special breed, you and I.
And I mean this with the best intentions.
I think about the need to rush around or the need to “be” or the need to “Go, Be, and Do!” and, of course, I think about the mind’s need to be right or to be valid, or validated. Lastly, I think about the fear we have of not being good enough or efficient.
Me?
I’m afraid that someone will pull my curtain and find out that I’m really not that cool, or interesting. If anything, I’m afraid that when the curtain is pulled my truths will be exposed and more than anything, I will be seen as I am, which is weak or powerless, and simple, as if to prove that I am nothing but another crazy child in this crazy universe, lost and confused, and afraid of the dark (or afraid to find out what’s in it).
This is more of a conversation that I need to have between you and I. Or maybe this is just a reminder of a song I’d listen to which meant something to me. Remember?
This started back when I was on fire, or burning the candle at both ends, as they say. At times like now, when I’m teetering on the verge of insanity, I need to take a break or to find a place, somewhere away from the drama or the lies or the inaccurate assumptions that, somehow, everything is my fault.
And that’s just not the case.
Not everything can be my fault.
It can’t all be me.
However, the only thing that can be me is me. Since it is up to me to care for myself, then I have to set some time aside and find the time to breathe or to lean back and unwind, or even if there’s nothing else that can be done, I have to find a minute to be someplace else, just to say “ah,’ and then I can exhale or breathe . . . you know?
No one can run at full speed, all day, all night, and all the time. Let’s be honest for a minute here — shall we?
The mind can run a million miles an hour and go absolutely nowhere—except, of course, if you count how we tend to go crazy. But other than that, the mind can go nowhere else, but crazy, when we drive ourselves into the ground.
You have to slow down, or like Billy Joel sang, “Slow down, you crazy child.”
I forget to do this.
Yes, I see you looking back at me. I see you in the mirror, every day. I see you in my mind and in my heart. I see this as well as the enemies at the gates and then I see me.
I see me and my fears, and yes, I lose myself to the association of some unforeseen event. I go crazy. I lose myself to the idea of an assumption or an upcoming problem which I see with the worst-case scenarios or the worst possible outcomes, and then what?
I go crazy.
But dig it –
I can’t do this anymore.
I can’t lose more than I have. But be advised, the worst bankruptcy is emotional bankruptcy. That’s a hard one to come back from. For me, this was the hardest rebound of my life.
But now is a good time to set the stage and secure myself with a commitment to let go, or dance, or sing, or if at all possible, I have to find a way to undo the tension (so I can be free).
I know that all I want is peace.
In fact, I know exactly what I want.
I know what I need.
I need to “take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while.”
I need to step away from the insanity before I lose myself, or worse, I could lose everything I have left, which is not much.
I can lose my mind and my heart, to which, in all fairness; there are times when I’m not sure how much I have left?
Do I have a mind left?
Am I sane?
Do I still have heart?
Did I lose too much, or should I say have I lost so much of myself that I cannot recover?
And we do this too. All too often.
I know that this is part of my problem.
Or maybe I have invested my time and energy so poorly that I found myself racing down the diminishing hallways of little to no returns. And coming back with nothing, or empty handed, I admit that it seems as if I was robbed or taken for a ride or that I was played like a fool.
Who knows?
Maybe I am a fool.
I can sure play the part very well.
Slow down, kid.
You have to breathe.
You have to let “it” out.
I’d like to dance a little. I’m not that good of a dancer nor am I a great singer, but if I’m learning anything about myself, I’m learning that as busy as I am and as crazy as life can be—I have to take sometime to let myself go, or scream, cry, go crazy, or by any means, I have to let myself disappear for a while, so I can dance or at least, sing off-key for a bit.
I have to kick back a little.
Maybe I need to do a trip, that is, of course, you’re welcome to come along, if you’d like to go with me.
I’d like to do what I call a re-do or a do-over of a trip to New Mexico.
I need to visit the chapel again and sit in that place known as Chimayo or drive through the emptiness of open roads and let the blue sky stretch over my head.
I’d like to offer a different voice this time. I’d like to revisit Chimayo and give an update to the so-called “Everywhere-Spirits” and tell them, yes, “Hello,” and that I’m alive and doing fine—or, at least I hope I am.
I realize that it is me who runs myself into the ground. But more, I realize it is me who captains my ship. Whether I face the storms or find the skies to be are kind and fair, either way, I have to adjust myself.
I have to adapt. I have to realize that insanity is nothing else but me, running myself into the ground, and worrying about every – goddamned – possible – thing!
I do this a lot.
So –
It’s good to take off.
It’s good to step away from the desk that we find ourselves leashed to.
It’s good to spend a day without answering emails or thinking too much about the next day or worrying about things like, “What am I going to walk into” when I get to work tomorrow.
I recall meeting people in the working world. I remember people who claimed that nothing would happen or nothing would work, or I would hear people say, “this company would fall apart if I left,” and then guess what?
They’d leave. Do you know what?
The company didn’t fall apart.
No one is that important. Then again, nothing is so important that I should compromise my mental health.
I want to be healthy.
I want to be efficient.
I want to be good at what I do.
At the same time, I do not want to risk life and limb anymore.
I’m starting to realize that Billy Joel was right.
I have to realize that Vienna waits for me too.
There’s no fire. There’s no hurry.
I’m sure that I have to “cool it off before I burn it out.”
But for now, I have bills to pay.
I have responsibilities too and one is above all, more important than the others.
I have to take care of “ME!”
Otherwise, what’s the alternative?
I have seen people who refuse to take breaks and I’ve seen people work themselves into the ground. I mean this both figuratively and literally.
I’ve seen people drive themselves crazy and yes—I’m one of them.
Ah, Chimayo.
You weren’t what I thought you’d be when I met you. Then again, I was hoping for a miracle then.
I was hoping that you could heal me too.
Maybe you did. Or maybe you didn’t.
Maybe your process is ongoing, and I failed to realize that you have a greater plan for me.
This is why I’d like to come back to you in good old New Mexico and let you know that yes, I’m alive and doing fine . . .somehow, or perhaps despite myself — but either way, I’m still breathing and I’m still kicking.
I just needed to reorganize myself and understand that not everything happens.
But it is true what they say . . .
Everything DOES happen for a reason.
Oh, and Mr. Joel
About your song, Vienna . . .
Thank you, sir. Your words and lyrics are more lifesaving than you figured.
Signed:
Another crazy child
The Written Addiction 