Except for one thing.

I needed to go to L.A.

When Michelle and I had that first conversation, I understood that for the first time. It was maybe the first time that I realized that we aren’t here forever. You can ask the litany of friends I have had honking in the driveways of my life that time hasn’t been a set in stone reality for me most of my life. This was the first time that I thought, “If I don’t do this now, there won’t be a time that I get around to it.”

So, there I was stuck squarely in the definition of ambivalence. There isn’t any real drama here, though. I summoned the courage and went to L.A. and then summoned the wisdom of knowing when it was time to come home.

While in L.A., I experienced an evolution, as thoughts and conversations of having kids transitioned from feelings of unmet adventures to feelings of excitement and anticipation. I couldn’t wait. We couldn’t wait. You know when you’re a kid swinging, and you end up getting in sync with the person swinging next to you? When I was growing up, we called that being “married.” In real marriages, the timing on things such as when to have kids isn’t always in sync between spouses, but every so often you find it, and you are “married.” Those are good times. It’s good when you’re married married.

At the time I announced I was coming home, I wrote:

I’m going to go home to my wife…

To try to make babies…

I don’t know how long it will take…

But we’ll keep trying…

And trying…

And trying…

And that sounds like a lot of fun…

Junior high Jeff would even call the act of trying a dream realized.

So, I came home and we started trying. And by trying, I mean, well, you know, you’ll have to read between the lines (Seriously, squint your eyes, I have implanted a Magic Eye Kama Sutra between the lines of this post). I started learning a lot, like that you can only fertilize an egg in a few day window each month. That was news to me. How statistically unlucky are unwanted teen pregnancies? We, as adults, should keep the mantle of not letting this information out to the hordes of horny teenagers out there.

With that information, and the doubts that my body could do anything right, I was certain it was going to take forever. It takes forever for normal people, and I am not one of them.

But then…

On a Sunday morning in late January, I was awoken by Michelle’s squeal. I recognized it through my grogginess. It was the same as when I proposed. She was squealing and giggling and running back and forth, just like when I proposed.

She was pregnant.

We were pregnant.

Well, she was pregnant.

She is pregnant.

Am I more than a little freaked out? Yes. Am I mostly excited? Yes.

Here is a picture of Michelle that we took tonight. I told her that she transitioned from hot to gorgeous as a pregnant woman.

In that same post where I announced I was coming home, I wrote:

We tend to think that dreams have to be nearly unreachable and exciting to be worthwhile. I like the thought of driving three days in a car to reunite with my wife being a dream fulfilled. I like the thought of my future kids being worth sacrificing something for.

I still think that, and I’m still on this side of actually meeting those kids, but I’ll get to know one soon.

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To answer your questions:

-Yes, she was sick, but has been feeling better for the last few weeks.

-No, we don’t know the gender, and we won’t for a few more weeks.

-No, I haven’t heard of that. What? Gross. Really? That’s a thing? How is that possible? Please stop telling me things.

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Oh, also, I knew about the pregnancy before my official last post of the year, and it was killing me to not put it in the last post and/or video, but we couldn’t announce it yet. It would have been a storybook ending to the completion of the blog. This was the secret post that I alluded to, knowing that I would have a few epilogue posts. Several people guessed correctly from that post. Congrats.

Sometimes things work out strangely, and sometimes they work out exactly backwards.

It turns out I had to move from Hollywood to Springfield to get on television.

This past summer, as I was hustling in LA, surviving on crackers, not sleeping, and missing Michelle, all for the shot at making it onscreen, a television station in Springfield was undergoing changes. KSFX, the local Fox affiliate was losing their Fox affiliation, due to a new station acquiring the rights to the affiliation. KSFX was now left to continue as an independent station, with a new approach. Thus, KOZL was formed by the company that was once KSFX. This presented a lot of new obstacles, but also some new opportunities. Most all of the KOZL programming would remain the same, they would keep their local news broadcasts, and it would remain in full HD, but now they could do something not normally afforded local stations constrained by their affiliation, they could produce original local programming.

I heard about all of this going down in late summer because I would still read the local newspaper online. In September, I came home for a week for a wedding and a visit. It was during this trip that Michelle and I had the it’s time to come home conversation, and we decided on December. Fresh off of that news, I e-mailed the general manager of the station saying, “Hey, I hear you’re looking for original programming, and it just so happens that I have a show you might be interested in called The Mystery Hour.” I also said, “I’m leaving for Los Angeles within the week, so we’ll have to meet soon if you want to discuss it.” Lo, and behold, he read the e-mail and agreed to meet.

I met with him and someone above him from the corporate offices and they loved the show from the clips I had sent them and from people around the building being familiar with it. It turns out that this meeting was less about me selling them on the idea, like I had assumed, and more about talking about how it could work. I told them I would probably be home around the new year. We kind of left it at that and agreed to keep talking. As I was in LA preparing to move back home, I took comfort in knowing that a possibility awaited me.

Now it’s official.

That show that I started more than five years ago.

That show that I, myself, have derided for being a fake TV show.

That show that I have sweat over, holding on to the notion that it may actually be worthy of broadcast.

That show, that show, is now going to be a half hour, weekly show on KOZL, airing at 10:00 pm on Saturday nights.

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I’m going to be a realish late night talk show host, on a realish late night talk show.

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Hey, I recognize that it is a local show, that will be seen by thousands, not millions, but I am excited. It makes me wonder if I had the choice, would I choose to have a tiny role in a nationally popular show, or my own show, on a local station? My ego side would want the national show, but my creative side would definitely go for my own show, but my wallet would go for the national show, but my wife would go for the local show. Local show wins.

It excites me, and it stresses me out a bit too. I have been working my butt off getting the crew for the show, getting equipment, and handling all of the details of getting the show off the ground. Yes, I had this show I was really proud of before I left, but when I came home, my video guy was now unable to help, my camera guy sold his cameras, and my venue, The Skinny Improv, moved to a smaller location. So, now I was a guy with a commitment to a show and, well, I had me, and I still had my desk, I guess. So, I’ve been working my tail off getting the band back together, as it were, plus all of the new things about having a show on TV that I’m ignorant to. It turns out it’s not just setting cameras up.

The show will now be at Randy Bacon studio, an art gallery/concert venue downtown, that oozes cool. I would have loved to keep doing it at The Skinny, my comedy home, but the new space, which is wonderful for improv, is not as equipped for this show. I’ve also been getting sponsors for the show. Don’t ask me how many I have yet because I will pretend not to hear you, but I’ve had meetings and we’re close on a couple (although, if you know of anyone, let me know). It’s been a perfect continuation of my year, jumping into things and figuring them out as I go.

Here’s the basic info:

The first show is scheduled for Friday, April 13th, ominous, I know.

Airing
10:00 pm
Saturday nights
KOZL
(Will also be available on http://www.themysteryhour.com after it airs)

Taping
8:00 pm and 10:00 pm
2nd Friday of each month
Randy Bacon Studio

People will purchase a ticket for one of the showtimes for $5.00, where we will tape 2 episodes in a row. They will have the option to get into both for $8.00. We will tape 4, one month’s worth in one night.

I feel so lucky, really. There are very few places that have late night talk shows outside of the big ones on national television. I would venture that there are only a handful or fewer in places the size of Springfield. It reminds me of when I moved to Springfield initially, I would always pinch myself that there aren’t many places that have successful and sustainable improv theaters, but Springfield happened to. Then, I moved to LA and back, where I learned so much about the industry that will help me so much as I do this show, and I feel lucky again to be in Springfield.

It’s impossible to predict the twists and turns and where you’ll end up I guess.

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I have revamped The Mystery Hour website as well. Go look at it, so that I can say I actually did it for a reason. For real though, after each episode airs, they will be available online at TheMysteryHour.com, so all of my friends outside of the area can see them.

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I’m not going to lie, I’ve missed this whole blogging thing. I miss the process of writing. I miss the feedback. I miss feeling connected to you guys. I will start a new one. It won’t be one I update everyday, but semi-frequently, I hope.

Things are similar on the job search. I’ve had a few good interviews, including one this morning, but nothing big yet. I have just started substitute teaching, which is great blogging material, by the way. What else have I done to make money recently? I have made a website for someone, cleaned out an apartment, been in an infomercial, done improv shows, done stand up shows, I would even consider celebrity boxing at this point if I was a celebrity.

_________________________________________

I realized in the official last post  that I could do the thin line dividing segments in the blog thing. I like it. It took me 365 days to realize it.

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Oh and here’s a commercial I made for the return.

This night a year ago, I was laying in a motel room in Amarillo, TX staring at the ceiling. I had no idea what lay ahead, the plan was completely open ended. The next day I would continue driving further from my wife, and closer to my dreams.  I think that is what has set this journey apart from others who move to LA with dreams of Hollywood success. It was all bittersweet. We always knew the situation was temporary, one of us would be moving at some point, we just didn’t know who, we didn’t know where, and we didn’t know when.

If I’m writing about this year, I have to write beyond the realm of chasing dreams, because it’s more than that. Really, this is also a story of love and marriage, sacrifices, fear, uncertainty, and coming home. I can’t encapsulate that in one post, the list is too lengthy.

And I’m still on the wonder side of conclusions.

Truthfully, I’m still looking for a job. I’m fairly stressed out about the money situation I put us in. I don’t know how the whole pursuing a full time job with part time dreams versus pursuing a full time dream with a part time job plays out. Honestly, I sometimes feel like I’m in a more difficult place currently, than I was last year. This year was a trade off. I traded heart and dreams stress and financial satisfaction for financial stress and heart and dreams satisfaction.

Ultimately, though, it’s not close, the worth it argument wins in a landslide.

It was simple. I had to do it.

I would not have traded this year for anything.

Anything.

The stresses I listed above are temporary, but the experience and the memories of it will last a lifetime.

Yet, here I am, on the wonder side of conclusion.

I don’t have any great platitudes or declaratives to stamp anything with ink and say, “This is how it is.” Mostly, what I learned this year had to do with uncertainty, and uncertainty doesn’t operate in the realm of declaratives and platitudes. Last year, before I uprooted everything, I had certainty. I had a steady income, a house, a wife, and a routine. I stripped all of those things off and cannonballed into the pool of uncertainty. To me, that is the remarkable thing. I jumped. Naked. You can substitute acting dreams for another dream, and Hollywood for another place, and the through line remains the same, jumping into uncertainty.

Now, I sit, back at my home, with my legs under the coffee table, and my back up against the couch, sitting on a pillow, while I look at my last blog post and try to summon conclusions. I’m not sure I have any, for me, or anyone else. I gave myself a year for this blog, and surely after everything, you would think I would have inspiring, thoughtful, or even sobering conclusions, and yet, they escape me.

I’m still on the wonder side of conclusions.

The closest I can come to a conclusion is a statement on the lack of value in conclusions and certainty. That statement is this: Uncertainty need not equal fear.

Think about it, how often do our worries, trepidations, and angst come directly from uncertainty? I know mine do. I’ve trained myself to think they’re synonymous. We’re constantly searching for patterns, padding our lives with uncertainty insulators, checking in with retrospection, and hoping for conclusions. We strive to reach a place where we have arrived, where the uncertainty problem is solved, the practical things are taken care of, and we have wisdom in spades. I don’t know exactly where that place is, but I know that it always exists right outside of my grasp.

This fictitious place is only necessary if uncertainty is frightening. Yet, there is nothing inherently frightening about uncertainty. The bleak imaginations we associate with uncertainty might just as well be rosy, because they’re just that, imaginations. I would rather sacrifice conclusions and certainty for the sake of living than sacrifice living for the sake of conclusions and certainty.

I like security as much as the next guy, I’ve just seen that the pool of uncertainty can be approached. It is just a part of life. You can spend your life trying to dry all your wet clothes from your previous dips in the pool scheming ways to avoid it in the future, or you can jump in and swim. Life is a pool party, and the only way to enjoy a pool party is to jump in. Truly, I say all of this just as much to convince myself as anyone else. I’ve had a year in the pool, and I may not spend all of my future time in the pool, but I’ll always hang out nearby. The water is warmer than it looks.

Yet, I am still on the wonder side of conclusions. 

I’ve been dreading writing this post, however it was to end up looking. I think I’m mourning the loss of the blog. I feel like I’m breaking up with the best listening girlfriend ever. In a year of loneliness and adventure, this blog was my companion and my tether to the feeling of home. I’m actually really proud of myself that I made it this long. At a certain point, this blog went from being the conduit of passing along the story, to being a part of the story itself. I found myself prioritizing it more and more. I’m a writer now. I was a guy who wrote things occasionally before, but now I see myself as a writer who writes.

Mostly, though, it’s just been a chance to share. I wanted to share my journey and how I saw it, and lo and behold, there were people who wanted to share in it as well. I’ve always thought that internet relationships seem a little false, but I don’t know if I buy that anymore. Sure, they’re limited, but the support I’ve received in numbers of views, comments, and real life conversations about the blog have sure felt like real support.

So there I was, in a motel room in Amarillo, TX. After a few months of fretting about the move and agonizing about if I was the type of guy who had the guts to actually pull it off, I lay there with half of my life in the car downstairs. I had no idea of what this year would bring, I just knew I was doing it. That was the night that I transitioned from leaving from a place, to going to another. In my first blog post, two days later, I wrote, “I feel like a braver version of myself…”

Maybe that’s the real transition that took place.

Maybe that’s who I am now.

Thanks for being a part of that.

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Now, I sign off for the last time with my classic sign off phrase that I have used each post. What’s that? I don’t have a sign off? Really? Oh, man, I should have come up with one, like a long time ago.

Until tomorrow…no, that’s dumb.

From my blog to your heart…stupid.

Ummm…

These are the blogs of our lives…I give up.

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*I plan on having three more blog posts, as I know of a few things on the horizon that I will have to share. I don’t know when they’ll be, but you can be sure I will make it known. As I said, I’ve liked this connection most in this whole experience, and I don’t want this to be a break up. We can still be friends, you should follow me on Twitter www.twitter.com/themysteryhour.

Also, I think you’re not supposed to talk number of views for a blog, it’s a little like talking about income. However, on this last day, the total views for this sits at exactly 99,400. How cool would it be to hit 100,000 on the last day? Very cool is the answer. It is within reach, just keep coming back to the site every few hours.

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Again, from both Michelle and I, thank you.

I’ve always loved documentaries. In fact, in a couple of weeks, Michelle and I will be going to a documentary film festival that we excitedly go to every year. I’ve always said it would be cool to make my own, but I lacked the skills, time, equipment, money, and focus. Then, I got some skills (Mac), got some equipment (iPhone), and became part of a story worthy of telling. I left home. I left my wife, dogs, friends, and job to pursue my dreams. Occasionally, as I went, I videotaped things, and took a lot of pictures.

Then, I decided that I wanted to actually put it all together in a short video. One of the things I learned in Hollywood was you say film, not video. Also, you say what you want to be, not what you currently are. So, let me rephrase that, I made a short film of our adventurous year because I’m a filmmaker.

Honestly, I spent more time than I would like to admit on this, and stayed up until an hour I don’t care to acknowledge, so I will have one more post after this one. I lacked any semblance of coherency when I was done making this film. This year was a giant leap, so I might as well make The Mystery Year a leap year.

The film is nearly fourteen minutes long. I made it for people to see, but mostly I want those people to be future Jeff and Michelle.

Enjoy.

Thank you for all the support.

1 post left.

I’m not really a stand up in the classical sense, but one of my highlights in LA was getting the chance to do stand up quite a bit. See, when you’re pursuing acting, you don’t get much of a chance to be seen, and it’s frustrating. Stand up gave me a chance to get up in front of people. Don’t get me wrong, I really like doing stand up and feel pretty good about how it goes for me, I just do it differently. I had the chance to go up at the Comedy Store four times while I was out there, three times in the Main Room, and once in the Original Room.

I wrote about the first time I went up, here.

Since then, people have asked me if I had it videotaped for them to see. Well, I did have my November show recorded. You aren’t supposed to record in there, so I had to get lucky, when one of my friends recorded it secretly. This one went pretty well, and was pretty typical of how the shows went. Performing at the Comedy Store, and having it go well was definitely a big thrill for me. I even had a surprise heckler this night.

Part 1

Part 2

*Two posts left.

This is the anniversary of the day I left for Los Angeles. It was the hardest day I’ve ever done. I’ve had harder days, but nothing that I instigated. I’ve been watching some videos we took of the day, and they are devastating. What an amazing year, but, man, oh man, what a horrible day.

Here is a list of things worse than leaving your wife, house, dogs, friends, job, and life in one day. There are very few things.

-Tripping and falling face first into an open blender that is pureeing lemon juice and salt. The open wounds hurt, but more so the acid and salt now on the inside.

-Realizing that the “Wear an Offensive Costume, Costume Party” was held at the other Ramada. You had gone to the one holding the ACLU national convention.

-Finding out that your brother is also your father.

-Realizing that the “Wear a Deer Costume, Costume Party” was held at the other meadow. You had gone to the one holding the NRA national convention weaponry and coffee breakout session.

And, that’s it. There are only four things worse.

Things that are better than leaving your wife, house, dogs, friends, job, and life in one day.

-Everything.

*3 posts left.

I’m not sure what I’m going to write about today. I mostly did stuff on the computer, then put on my storytelling show, So There I Was, in the evening. I’m just going to start writing and see what happens. One year ago today was the night before I left for LA. I did not sleep well that night.

I am a good sleeper though, generally, a really good sleeper. 

Is it possible that I’m getting writer’s block with just a few posts left?

Oh my gosh, it might be happening. My dad has pointed out to me how prolific I have been this year a lot, and I haven’t thought much of it. I wonder if it’s like running. When I run hard and have a finish line, I always think that I have exactly enough energy to make it to the finish line, no more, but truthfully, if the finish line was moved back further, I would think that I could make it to that point, no further. I think that we can do more than we think, with a lot of things.  I wonder why we put a false finish line out there, when we could make it further. I bet there is some sort of protective instinct in there.

I know creatively, particularly with improv, that some of the best things come from a place when we think that we don’t have anything left.

So, let’s just keep writing and see what happens. Here is the inside of my head. I feel like this may be one of my worst posts of the year. I’m putting a lot of pressure on myself to have a stellar last few posts, I think that may be what is the root behind a bout of writer’s block. I also think that I don’t want it to end. Even though it has been a lot of work, I have really enjoyed it. I don’t to get into points I want to make on my last post, though. So, I will end that line of thinking.

I will be doing a story for the magazine I freelance for on area breweries. It sounds like a fun article, I even have to go to the middle of nowhere to a tiny brewery. I like beer alright. I don’t love it like some, though. It took me a long time to acquire the taste. I actually did not have my first sip of alcohol until I was 21. I didn’t like it. My first drink was a Jack and Coke, and I thought, “Yuck, they made a perfectly good Coke taste horrible.”

Then, beer was another step. I guess I just prefer sweet things to bitter things, which is why I don’t like coffee.

I’ve figured out that I mostly like wheat beers, and if they have a hint of fruit, the better. Beer snobs scoff at me. I will try to remember to not bring that up when I’m interviewing the brewmasters. I want to do a job with “master” in the title.

Fruit, I can’t get enough of that. Nature made candy for us! And it’s good for you, too!

That is all.

Maybe my theory about awesome things coming from when you think you’re out of ideas is wrong.

*4 posts left.

Today, I had lunch with a friend, then I did the job search dance online. After that, I went to the visitation of my friend’s grandfather. I came back from that and did an improv show at a church, then did a long form show at the Skinny.

I was thinking about it the other day, with all of the interviewing/auditioning that I have done in the last year about how you have to use interview speak BS.  What if you could just be honest in an interview? You know, what if you could say what you mean, and not have to use interview speak. So, I looked up the 10 common interview questions on Monster.com. Here is a video of me answering 7 of those questions honestly in an interview.

I have occasionally written about my dogs before, I have two of them, Sammy and Lucy. Lucy is a rescue dog that Michelle got about three months before we got married. I had already decided to propose, and wasn’t sure if I wanted to commit myself to a dog for 10 years. Michelle, wanting to already be married, just wanted something to commit to her. So, when Michelle told me that she was getting a dog, the conversation went like this:

Michelle: So, I think I’m actually going to do it. I’m going to get a dog.

Jeff: Are you sure you want a dog?

Michelle: Yeah.

Jeff: You know, they’re a lot of work.

Michelle: Yeah, why?

Jeff: I don’t know, I’ve just heard that they’re actually a lot more work than you would think.

Michelle: Yeah, okay, whatever, I’ve thought about it. I’m excited.

Jeff: Yeah.

Michelle: You want to grab some lunch?

Jeff: Are you sure you want to get a dog?

Michelle: Dang it, Jeff, yes. Why are you so concerned?

Jeff: No reason.

So, two months before I proposed, Michelle picked out Lucy.

Sammy came around about a year after we were married. He just started showing up at our front door basically. He had a raggedy collar and really liked affection. Michelle took him in (this was before we made an official policy about not taking them in). We tried to find his owners, to no avail. For a long time, I refused to give him a name, we just referred to him as The Corgi. Then, he grew on us, I mean that emotionally, and by shedding, and thereby claiming our clothes.

Sammy is the mysterious one, we don’t know what his life was like before we got him, he had been on Earth for about 5 years before, and probably went through a lot. He only alludes to things from his past in hints and riddles.

Then, five years ago, he started a blog. http://www.corgilicious.blogspot.com

Like most blogs, it only lasted for three entries. You can read it and get a sense of his personality. He is a very proper dog, coming from British aristocracy probably.

For Sammy’s blog, click here.

Obviously, I did not write this, because I started a blog and wrote everyday for a year. Of course, I had nothing to do with his blog, but I hope you enjoy it.

*Not many days of this blog left, six to be exact.

Let’s talk about real stuff today. Let’s talk about anxiety, stressfulness, the “aaarrgh” times. I, for one, am at once carefree and anxious a lot of the time. I also vacillate pretty wildly. Last week, I was on the stressed side of he spectrum. I’m listening to the Avett Brothers in my ears right now, and I guess it’s kind of like their music. One song is simple, sweet, and carefree, while the next is fast, with some good shouting. I come from a long line of people with a good amount of anxiety, on both sides. We euphemize it as good at analyzing. I write about this, because I always like it when someone else articulates my thoughts. Maybe you can relate.

My anxiety is a many layered thing really. I’m not entirely sure what is the foundation of it, but all the layers interplay.

1. I just have too many ideas for the time and energy constraints of my life, of anyone’s life, really. I wrote about “Creanxiety” here awhile back. Creanxiety is a term I made up for the intersection between creativity and anxiety. I just have a lot of ideas, whether it be for shows, videos, blogs, hanging out with friends, songs–I have song ideas–me–I do, outrageous ideas for helping the world be a better place, business ideas, or any other randomness. At any one time, I’m thinking of probably 20 projects. The ideas don’t go away, I’ve still got ones from 10 years ago floating around up there.

2. I think that I can pull anything off, or rather, should be able to pull anything off. You know the term, “Thinking outside the box?” I don’t have a box, and that is problematic. All the ideas are out there, and a more realistic, box having person, would eliminate a lot of them because they are too out there, too big, or too undoable. For me, they all seem equally possible, and equally risky if I fail at them, or more accurately, fail at trying them.

3. I often feel like I am behind, or that I’m not doing enough, or I should be doing more. “Should” and “Enough” are the operative words here. I don’t know what the root of this is, quite frankly. However, I have the impression that I am capable of so much more. I have the impression that others are ahead of me. I have the impression that doing anything short of complete and thorough is some sort of tragedy. The ideas that I have are out there, I think that I can pull them off, and I think that I am failing by not having completed them yet. There is some deep stuff in this one I haven’t fully extracted. It’s one of those straight up insecurities.

4. I have a hard time being settled with unfinished things. In college, I was similar, but college life fit with it better. I could be stressed about a final, and then, that final would arrive, and be completed. Real, adult life does not allow you such beginnings and endings. Most everything is open ended. That approach doesn’t work in my real life.

5. Living with uncertainty is tough for me. Forcefully transitioning things from uncertain to certain is my main tool for dealing with anxiety. The problem is, there are so many things that are not that way. Take the job search for example. I can work really hard and really try to make things happen, but landing a job is only one part hard work, the other parts are time and luck. That is why this last year was so amazing for me, nearly every aspect of my life was uncertain, in an industry whose defining characteristic is uncertainty.

6. I assume negative things about how things are going to turn out. This is the root of most anxiety, I think. I look at my future projects, or deadlines and think, “This is not going to end well. What if…” Really, if the “What if” part of that is completed it’s, “What if I don’t get it done, or done well, or something unexpected happens.” Truthfully, though, the future is up for grabs. The future only exists in our heads, it hasn’t been born into existence yet, and when it does, it will be something altogether different, the present. I don’t find the present scary. If the future is something that only exists in our imaginations, then we get to decide if it’s good, bad, or neutral. It’s clearly a choice and I nearly always choose bad.

7. I erroneously think that I will reach a place where I won’t have to think about these things. Currently, the thought is, “Yeah, I’m stressed out, but I have to have that now, because when I get a job that is creatively and financially fulfilling, I won’t have to worry about anything.” The secret is though, when/if I reach that place, I’ll have the same hangups. Also, there is no “place” to reach. That is BS, and always unhelpful.

8. I think that I can figure things out. I think that if I just think my way through the things stressing me out, I can fix it. It’s a weird thing. The problem is really over analysis, and my solution to the problem is to analyze as much as I can, thereby creating more over analysis, thereby creating a reaction to analyze…and so on and so on.

So, those are the layers. It’s a strange stew. I throw in a bunch of ideas, mix them with the thought that I can accomplish all of them, toss into into the insecurity that I’m behind, but should be able to do more. Let it sit. Then, add in some uncertainty, a healthy dose of negativity toward how things are going to work out. Sprinkle in the lie that there is a place I can reach and that I can get there by just thinking extra hard about how to get there.

Then stir.

Because stirring is exactly how it feels. This mix of stuff is circulating around and around. It’s like I have a window into the side of the pot, seeing the things pass by as it is stirred. Each time something else passes by, I think, “Eek, I need to worry about that too.” I think that I need to do something about it, but every time I touch the pot, it’s hot, and I jump back scared. This plays out in my real life because I feel like I have a million things that I’m worrying about that are taking up a lot of real estate in my mental capacity. When something new comes along, a request from a friend, a detail, or something Michelle needs me to do, I think, “Oh no, I can’t handle that, I’ve got too much going on (in my head). Ooh, stress, stop it. I can’t.” The reality is that, I do not necessarily have an abundance of actual things going on, I have an abundance of things going on in my head.

Here the thing: I know the solution to this.

I realize that my stew/stirring pot analogy has already reached a limitation, I gave it a window, might as well add something else to it. This pot full of anxiety soup spinning around that has a window on the side, also has a trap door, leading down into nothingness. It doesn’t make sense? I don’t care, it’s my made up analogy.

I often think that distraction is what I need, after all, it quiets my head, and is easy. For me, this is TV, or the internet. It is a fine and entertaining short term solution, but when I turn off the sound, the spinning anxiety stew remains. Another solution is exercise, which I love, and it distracts me, tires me out, and gives me some endorphins. It works for longer, but I end up in the same place.

Sometimes it feels impossible for me to process, let alone solve. Is there a process? Is there a solution?

For me, it’s writing.

I don’t mean writing this blog, which has it’s own purpose, I mean writing for myself, that only I will see. I do this entirely too infrequently, but when I do it, I absolutely love it. I sit in a quiet room with a pen and a notebook. I just write out my thoughts, all of them, the good ones and the bad ones, the rational ones and the irrational ones. I just write them out. I’ve tried not writing before, just sitting and thinking. It doesn’t work for me. I can’t think in a straight line. Back to the analogy, my thoughts spin around. If I’m just alone in my thoughts, I go in a million different directions, following no path further than the first thought. When I write, I can follow a through line. One thought can lead to another along the same theme, which can lead to another along the same theme, and so on. What I’ve found is that the further the thoughts go along a line, the less fearful and reactive they are, and the more helpful and positive they become. The thoughts continually dig deeper toward the things that are really going on. I don’t know what it says about me, but I have a hard time mustering that same thing using just the interior of my mind.

Writing is like magic to me.

What starts as agitated scribbles reflecting the feeling of my anxiousness of my thoughts become slow, reasonable reminders. Writing is the tool that unlocks the trap door below the stew. It is the only way to flush them away. It is the only way they escape my head. It truly feels like a flushing, or an emptying.

Afterwards, the circumstances are the same, but they come at me more slowly, and seem more doable. It gets me to a place of reminders. I’m reminded that those things aren’t so scary, as the surface would want me to think. I’m reminded that the present is a wonderful place to be. I’m reminded that things aren’t about successes and failings. I’m reminded of trust. I’m reminded of stillness. For me, it is where I most reach God, as well. If God communicates in our hearts, then reaching my heart is meaningful beyond a mere anxiety cure. In fact, despite some of the ways I’ve stated things on here, approaching it as a cure doesn’t work. It doesn’t work as a goal oriented process. It is anti-goal oriented. It is about the process more than the conclusions.

You know, I never actually come back to those writings, they are just for the present, and truthfully, aside from the names of things, they are strikingly similar. If I was a more routine type of guy, I would do this routinely. I wish I did, it would be really helpful. Instead, the stew slowly rises again after the emptying and I take care of it as it comes.

I get more excited than I should when people reveal their insecurities, anxieties, and doubts. I also get excited when people say, “Oh, that’s how you are? That’s understandable.” I think everyone likes those things. I write this, in part, for that purpose. I tend to think that everyone else has their crap together and that I’m the only one like this.  I’m not stressed out an anxious all the time, by any means, but this is what it looks like inside when I am. It’s kind of nice to communicate this thing that feels incoherent at times, with some coherence.

I know my mom, and a few other friends can relate to this. I wonder if anyone else can.

Let’s eat some stew.

Wait, that further screws up that analogy? Never mind.