A post that was written by John Taylor came through my Facebook timeline earlier. Normally, believe it or not, I don’t read their blog (sorry guys). Today, however, my friend who suggested the read, mentioned that it was a very honest post by him (John Taylor) so, I decided to give it a read. Hey…you’re welcome John. Here it is, in case you want to check it out on the D2 blog.
Maybe it’s the fact that I’m still hypersensitive over the loss of my mom (which may be a permanent condition) or, perhaps, it has something to do with hormones and PMS (which, thankfully, isn’t a permanent condition and getting less permanent the further into this middle age I get) but this post resonated with me on far too many levels. Obviously, one is mourning the loss of a parent which sucks donkey balls. The deep levels I won’t be able to discuss because, although my mind goes there on occasion, I don’t want to destroy anyones ideology of me…simple and shallow. OK, good.
Basically, for those of you who don’t feel like clicking over and then clicking back, John Taylor asks his readers/fans/himself one of the many questions that many of us ask ourselves on a daily basis…
Why do we do what we do (and that’s a weighty question)? Why do we put it all out there, so many of us. Writers, bloggers, songwriters, poets…through our words. We wear our hearts on our sleeves, on record jackets, on bright screens…
Why do we feel such a strong need to share. In many cases…we overshare.
For me, I can’t share everything here anymore because of the fact that my teens get really annoyed with me when I talk about them. Which is why I haven’t been posting a lot lately.
We share to make sense of it. We share for validation. We share to know that we aren’t the only ones in the world that this particular thing is happening to. We share in hopes of shedding light, in making a difference. And…we share so we can remember.
Well, that’s why I write, at least. I try to, anyways.
I believe it’s the same thing with memoirs, songs, poems, diaries that we leave on our bed “by accident” for our mom to see.
We want to be heard. We need to be heard.
We have no choice, it’s either share or have our hearts and heads explode.
I don’t do the whole meditation thing, nor do I do daily affirmations.
I simply remember important words expressed to me by important people in my life. Be anything. Do anything. Life is life, live it. Always ask, the worst thing you’ll be told is no.
Those are just a few resonating words that I hear, in my mothers voice, in my sisters voice, in my husbands voice…
They are deeply imprinted within my heart, in the recesses of my brain, intertwined now within my DNA. They are what drive me, motivate me to keep reaching for that elusive star. The one that I made a wish on many years ago. The one that zigs and zags, every time I get close to it. But, because of them, I know I’ll eventually grab it and put it in my pocket.
Except, I won’t ever wait for a rainy day, I’m not that type. I need the now, the instant gratification. That’s my impatient shallow speaking. Which is why I worry about numbers and comments. Which is why I stress over the fact that…OMG…a book is 80,000 words, how will I EVER get that many words done?
I’m not sure exactly what it is, what point I’m trying to make with this whole post, aside from the fact that his post made me think about this stuff.
It’s like the whole “why are we here” thing. No answers, just more questions which lead to more questions with no answers.
On an aside, it was interesting to have verified that even our favorite musicians, actors, writers..famous people…are really just like us. And maybe, my shallow side is what that post really spoke to? That John Taylor, this dude that used to be plastered all over my mustard colored, teenage-angsted walls…is really 3 dimensional. And that I, a fan and fellow writer, could relate to his human side.
Yeah, that’s what it is. Well, the shallow part of it, at least. Because, remember, we don’t do deep here on Rock and Drool. I, my friends, have a reputation to maintain.
Off to wash and style my hair now.