“A year in parenthesis”

We’re officially one year into this pandemic. And while we may be eager to forget it ever happened, I suggest that we still have the option of being changed for the better. 

In my last few posts I outlined the struggles that I and other musicians are facing in the absence of being on stage. So much of our self-worth is tied to the adrenaline rush and feedback we receive, and without them things begin to crumble and our motivation can slow to a stop. (I’d love for you to take a second to check out part 1 and part 2 of this series.) Whether you’re a musician or not, we are all suffering from a confusing loss of self and absence of the lives we’re used to. But, go with me here, maybe this lack of excitement and energy isn’t so bad, and maybe its absence reveals that this time has a much greater purpose.  

I spent a full month of last summer sitting in stagnant, unproductive confusion. I had an expanse of time and space to create and produce, but no matter how much I tried I couldn’t get myself going. I cycled through feelings of frustration and shame, and only after surrendering and sitting deeply in these feelings did I begin to loosen my grip and allow myself to see things differently.  What would then ensue was a process that gave these feelings purpose, and ultimately lead to personal work I’ll carry with me forever.

I’ve had several people over the years highlight the difference between “doing” and “being.” I’m a do-er, and apparently a really terrible “be-er,” until now (though still a work in progress). Forward momentum has been my drug for many years. I live for my checklists, itineraries, color-coded spreadsheets, goal-setting, PR-crushing…  I can’t remember the last time I felt bored, even after all these months of quarantine. My brain just doesn’t allow it. I am driven by purpose, and I would often look for it in days of stressful busy-work with no meaningful end. If I was busy, surely I must be “succeeding.”  My apathy this summer became so crazy-making that I had no choice but to stop resisting and take a deeper look. I reluctantly released the idea that this would be a time of great strides and production, and after the initial uncomfortable withdrawal period, I realized that there was beauty and honesty to be found in the quiet and space. I was finally shedding light on this “wheels-always-spinning” habit and uncovering what was hiding underneath.

I had to make a very conscious daily effort to quiet the angry voices and sit in the lack of excitement. Finally I had accepted that there didn’t have to be a quantitative use of this time, and in giving myself this permission, a clarity began to emerge that this absence of “doing” was in fact exactly how I needed to be using this time.

Not only was I discovering why I was unmotivated and lost, I began to understand why not creating and performing may be what it takes to find a peace that I’ve been unknowingly searching for.

I had been doing far too much for too long, and for the wrong reasons. Here was my once-in-a-lifetime chance to to breathe, to release, to surrender, and just exist. A chance to sit still and allow forth a truer and more fundamental sense of self. This all brings new meaning to the word “drriift.”

If we can overcome the self-bullying feelings of laziness and un-productivity, this is our time to discover where life exists in the absence of these filler activities. What is baseline? What do I enjoy, and who am I when free of others voices? Where was I feeling stress in my life, and where is there more peace now? Where does creativity cultivate itself without goals and deadlines in mind? How would it feel to just be?

Rather than scarcity of shows and tours, perhaps we can see this as an abundance of time and space?

My therapist has been calling this my “year in parenthesis”, which I love. It offers the permission to accept the absence of many things and to focus inwardly. I needed to learn to enjoy my own company and appreciate who I am, on and off stage. This is the time to tend our gardens and to churn the soil, rather than reap the harvest. (Also borrowed from my wonderful therapist.) And when the world does go back to “normal,” I hope this new sense of steadiness and peace will allow me to be more economical with time and energy and be able to put productivity in its rightful place.

Only now, after 12 months of quarantine and major knee surgery, am I able to allow days to unfold in the moment and not fear the ‘must-be-productive’ voices. For me, right now isn’t about achievement. This isn’t the time to change the world, and I can trust there will be time for that when it is right. I still make a list for the week, but this time it looks very different. This week my priorities are daily fresh air, sleep, seeing familiar (masked) faces, and budgeting open-ended creative time. The mantra I’ve been repeating is “this is not wasted time” or “what I’m doing now is just as important” (even if that’s Netflixing or YouTubing). 

This is our last chance to take a deep breath and remember how much we would have killed for this extra time. It’s our chance to spend more time with family/loved ones, set out for hikes with no time limit, take a book to the park, go to a local museum, take a nap when we’re tired, read newsletters and answer phone calls as they come in … We have the rare opportunity to settle down and slow ourselves to a stop. Our challenge will be doing it guilt-free, so let’s help each other. Consider this your reminder that this is a very important time, and a gift we may never receive again. Let us delight in the mundane. In the everyday. In the lack of external voices and experience of basic self. Let us find clarity in the simplicity. 

One more mantra, to be recited periodically throughout the day:

“this is the perfect use of this time.”

All my love, drriifters.
Diana