The first 100 days of these daily reflections is an experiment. The topics are all over the place, and in many ways it’s all about me. Problem with that is, I want this to be about YOU just as much as it is me. I want you to find value in every reflection and empower you to create the life you’ve always wanted. That’s the journey we’re all on, and I want us to do it together. In these first 100 days, my goal is to find out how to most effectively do that. There will be bumps and bruises along the way, including half-assed efforts thrown together at 2:00 in the morning when all I’d rather do is cry or sleep. My goal is to wipe away the muck, polish my message and find my voice. I can’t do that without constantly writing. I want to thank all of you who have been a part of this thus far, and who have shown me so much support. I love each and every one of you.
Now that that’s out of the way, let’s dive into today’s topic - “Not For The Regular Kind”. I like experimenting with different styles and perspectives, so this one will be a little different. Let’s see how it goes…
I walk into a crowded room. The lights are bright, and the music is too loud. People are drinking, laughing, wondering who they’re going to have sex with. I order a seltzer from the bar, and the anxiety hits. It pulsates through my body like an electric current. I don’t want to be there, no, I can’t be there. I can’t think right, I can’t be me. I make some small talk with a couple guys I know and leave early…
Maybe next time, I’ll be normal…
I see a pretty girl at the coffee shop. “Alright man, get your shit together, say something.” I walk up to her and smile. I ask her her name, but I don’t speak loud enough. She replies, “What?” I ask again. By this time, I’ve convinced myself I’ve blown the whole thing and it feels like I’m walking on broken glass. I eventually ask for her number and she gives it to me, but when I text her the next day, I get no response…
Maybe next time, I’ll be normal…
I hop on a work Zoom call about logistics for an event I’m leading. Everything is behind schedule - I’m what corporate calls a “B” type personality. I don’t stress about small stuff, and that’s my Achilles heel. Everything is hectic on the call, and one very important person is yelling at everyone. I don’t even hear her speak. I’m lost in my own world, thinking about this melody that I cannot for the life of me get out of my head. Maybe it would go really well under a Bb minor…no that’s too dark, I think C# major would work better…wait, what did she just say? Damnit, I didn’t hear any of that, and I’m supposed to be the one doing all of this...
Maybe next ti- no, I don’t think I can be normal…
I fall in the love with the woman of my dreams, but it’s not what I thought it would be. It’s all perfect except this one little thing. Problem is, this one little thing gnaws at me day in and day out - it keeps me awake at night and wakes me up every morning. It possesses me. This wouldn’t bother other people - “it’s not a big deal, grow up”. I can’t, and that torments me even more. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I like this? Why am I haunted by these demons? Why do they choose me? I thought love was supposed to be peaceful, but for me, it’s never even been close. Maybe I’m better off alone…
I’m definitely not normal…
I’m in a group with a bunch of guys my age. They’re all talking about the past weekend’s games - they are all in different fantasy football leagues and talking players’ stats with one another. I didn’t watch any of the games. I don’t know any of the players’ names. I didn’t even know the Washington Redskins weren’t called the Redskins until last week. Major zeitgeist fail - I pretend like I know what they’re talking about by timing my laughs juuuust right, but I know they know my secret. I wonder if they want to talk about the history of the Zercher Lift from 1930? Maybe they’ll be interested in my take on C.S. Lewis’s view on non-pacifism? I’m gunna go with probably not…
Being normal is overrated anyway…
I start Modern Bronze. I write - some people really love it. I do crazy 1920’s lifting on Instagram - a community starts to take me in. For the first time, I reveal my sobriety publicly - a mountain is lifted off my shoulders. What is this feeling? I’m not afraid anymore. Of anything. I just want to do this every second of every day. I don’t care what people think, I don’t care about the haters - actually, I love the haters. For the first time, I feel like me. For the first time, I’m home. Now it’s time to get to work…
Thank God I’m not normal…
My message is not for the regular kind. It’s for the crazies, the strange ones, the misfits. Let’s be serious, we’re all misfits at the end of the day.
I want to be a beacon of hope for anyone reading this who feels small, who feels misunderstood, who feels lost. There is endless possibility beyond what you see, just keep going. Follow that fire within you that burns for something greater. Never let it go out.
Seek, and you shall find.