Summary
In this special scripted episode, I reflect on finally graduating and trying to climb out of a pit.
Music provided by Storyblocks &
Karl Casey @ White Bat Audio
Video:
To read along:
When I first started my bad habit-breaking journey, it felt like I had a rocket in my ass. I was on a complete roll of positives. I was releasing episodes and other visual projects consistently, I was working out all the time, and I had a great attitude. I’d proven to myself that I could do difficult things, thus giving me great belief in myself. The belief and action was a wicked combo. I could and was doing things that I would’ve probably not thought possible. On a really good day, if I read or heard something extra motivational, watch out.
I remember reading the first David Goggins book during one of those Summers and immediately upon finishing, went on my longest run. It was a personal best of 9 miles. For me, quite a feat, and something that I’ve never been able to replicate. I still remember a lot of that long run. The heat beating down on me, sweat collecting in all the worst spots, but I didn’t care. I’m completely in the zone, doing laps around the block, trying to keep count of laps while also trying to convert laps to miles. In this moment, I am locked in and there’s no going back. “I’m so glad that I’ve gotten into this lifestyle”, I think to myself, “I can’t ever imagine this coming to an end. This is life now.” I grin to myself as I continue to run.
Years later I find myself rifling through the mail in the dining room. I come across a small yellow envelope with my name and address on it. On the bottom of that is more text: Postage Due: $2.93 What the hell is this? I think back to recent packages received. Didn’t think there were any issues with those. I try to think if there’s any incoming mail that it could be, then it hits me. Of course, I know what it is and it makes sense now. The package in question, that’s lacking proper postage, was my degree. Why not just wring me out for a few more bucks as a final goodbye? It is the beginning of March and it’s been some time since my final exam and all the fanfare. It’s about damn time that I get to physically hold this sucker. I was eagerly anticipating it and though I feel a lot of pride for some reason, I’m not feeling a lot of joy or excitement. In fact, you could say I’ve been in a bit of a pit. But why? I should be walking on the clouds. I slayed the school dragon. All my hard work had paid off after all that time. So, what the hell?
Well, it could be the long dark. If you read or listened to any other writings that I’ve had about the Winter season, you know my feelings and how it affects me. If you don’t know my feelings, let’s just say, not fucking great, to sum it up briefly. This year we didn’t have a ton of snow, but lots of seriously cold days and of course, lots of dark. This all makes sense, yet the more I thought, it seemed that my troubles began a little earlier. I’m thinking it was more like Summertime.
It was early June and I had just completed another semester of school. It was a huge relief, as it had meant no more in-person classes. Even more importantly, no more getting up early. This was a huge deal to me because I was in pretty rough shape. It was just the one class, but any morning that consisted of class or classwork would pretty much guarantee that the night before would not be near a solid 8 hours. Probably more like 5 or 6 if I was lucky. I viewed Summer as a potential renewal period. I’d re-energize myself and all my creative endeavors. It was time to get back to the good stuff. The stuff that made me feel alive and proud of my efforts. Not that I didn’t feel proud for completing another semester, but it was a different type of pride. Both are great except there’s nothing quite like having an idea, coming up with a plan, and using all your tools to make it real. Better yet, having a large library that you can look back on. It was time to expand my personal library yet again, but where to start?
Well, I’d start by doing something that I was quite familiar with. Though I wasn’t 100% done with school, I thought I’d write an essay that recapped my new experiences. I’d explain the struggles and attempt to inspire. It would be just the thing I’d need to re-reboot this thing.
The writing of the essay didn’t really take all that long, as everything was fresh on my mind and I had lots of old assignments that I could use to reconstruct the timeline of events. The process was a therapeutic return to form. When it was finally ready to be released and allowed to just exist in the universe, I was proud of myself, however, my blah-ness remained. This wasn’t the cure that I had hoped it would be. What the hell was going on here?
I wasn’t dumb. I understand that an essay wasn’t going to completely save my life. I get that. I was, however, looking for a little bit more of a spark. I needed that old creative routine back. It was time to go bigger. It was time to do something that would be rewarding and challenging over a longer, more consistent stretch. The 31 mother fucking days of Halloween part 3!
“But wait!”, I’d think to myself. School’s not over and I’ve got my worst subject remaining. I’m already drained right now, at this very moment. The plan is to just put my head down, say “fuck it”, and continue? It was a pretty stupid idea, but what would be more stupid would be a Summer that flies by with no effort toward a goal. I knew this would be a great way to dive back in while holding myself accountable. I’d also get to work with some great, creative people again. The battle in my mind was settled. It was on.
My first steps were to finalize the list, or rather, actually construct one. I had some rough ideas in my head, along with dead projects I could resurrect from years gone by, but no real list. The thing is, making a list of ideas and content is pretty easy. I love the holiday and there are so many ways to cover it. There are decades of movies, memories, and creepy topics that a person could fill slots with. They may not all be good ideas, but I could sure as shit build a meaty list. The obvious challenge was always execution.
Having done this twice, I knew what to expect. I had a hard time conceiving a future in which I wouldn’t finish this thing, but hey, shit happens. People go into major things with great intentions all of the time, and unfortunately, it doesn’t always work. I for one, believe that there are a variety of factors that could lead to the collapsing of a passion project such as this.
First of all, a major project killer could simply be the length or overall scope of the project itself. I can think back to a lot of different film ideas and even a crazy podcast-related one involving a major network with daily content. At the very start, there was nothing but positive energy and a can-do attitude. These were sexy new mountains to climb and conquer. As time would progress, reality would set in. These are some fucking high mountains, and I’m not even sure I’ve got all the correct climbing gear. In the example of my podcast network idea, I didn’t really consider what running a podcast network would really mean. It was daily uploads and constantly having fresh content. That’s a lot of discipline, especially for the person that I was when I originally came up with this idea. At the time, I had not even thought about giving up substances. On top of that, energy and creative projects were severely lacking.
My grand pod network died very quickly. The two main podcasts that started it all are still active, which is nice, but no network in sight. I am not saying that you should give up on a project if you come to realize that it’s too large or you get yourself burned out. It may just be time to regroup. Is there a way to scale it down and still produce something cool? Maybe it’s time to shelve it for now and work on something else. It may be a project better suited for future you. A you who has gone through more nasty shit and has gotten a chance to grow more. I’m not ready to ever totally abandon old ideas. There’s always a chance to bring old dreams back to life. Unfortunately, that’s not the only way a good project can collapse. I’ve hit many potholes from lack of results.
For this one, I can actually produce a current example: my YouTube channel. Sometimes I’ll keep kicking a bunch of ideas around for long periods of time. During that time I’ll often ask myself, “Is this even worth all of the effort?”. Oh, man. That’s a great way to just keep these projects in the mind and pages of the journal. It is not crazy to want to see results for your efforts. You may even want to dive into analytics and experiment with new things. Still not crazy. What is crazy though is letting the lack of results stop you. I still struggle with this. The negative self-talk, the blockages, and the refreshing of pages over and over. In the moments of doubt, it’s a good idea to re-calibrate. Yes, the same thing that served as a solution to the first thing that collapse projects can also help this one. You may call it lazy, I just call it a crazy coincidence.
When you take a second to chill out, you can remind yourself why you started. Isn’t it fun and exciting to create beautiful art out of your wildest inner visions? It’s not about pleasing anybody else, it’s about you. Whether you do or do not want to pursue those ideas that you have on the back burner, who cares? Just don’t stop. It does suck pouring your soul into something only to have a small audience and little to no engagement, it really fucking does. But the next one? It could be the one that does it. Maybe not, but what if the views and engagement doubled? After that, who knows how much further you could go? If you stop now, that’s it. You’d never get those elusive results, that again, don’t matter. You did all those projects and most likely had some help along the way, which means you also likely had some great laughs and general bonding moments. This leads me to the third and final big reason why major projects can collapse. The last reason is trying to do too much on your own.
The last example is an easy one: The MPS 31-Days of Halloween marathon. When I first had the idea to do 31 days of content for the month of October, I knew it was bat-shit crazy. I also knew that I could totally pull it off. I started early enough in the year and more importantly, had a kick-ass group of people to help me. If I tried to tackle 31 pieces of content alone, I could easily burn out, come to resent the whole thing, and maybe eventually send it to the half-finished project graveyard. I’m happy to say that I’ve now got a total of three 31-day marathons. Grand things are not often created alone. If you have a grand idea that’s barely hanging on by thread, yet you still think there’s hope, maybe it is time to grow that team.
Now, where the hell was I? Oh yeah, the marathon that I was currently working on. So, I had managed to finish another. We were able to produce a ton of cool shit. New shit, old favorites, just lots and lots of shit. I was pleased and quite proud, but still feeling off. It wasn’t the jolt that I was looking for. The truth is, I don’t think there was or would have ever been a magical jolt. Sometimes you just happen to be in a blah phase of life. The trick in my current situation was to just put my head down and get through it. I was deep into my math class and though it was online, on my time, I was still pretty stressed. It had been so long since I’d done any math and had dumped a lot out of my brain.
Weeks leading up to the class, my head raced with anxiety. I had no idea what to expect. Would I have to memorize a bunch of formulas and shit? “Ah, shut up brain! We made it this far, it’ll be fine!”, I’d often have to remind myself. It was just like before with the other classes. Stay calm and shut down doubts. I had the tools.
Right away, some of my early worries were squashed when I found out that we’d get to use notes for the quizzes and tests. That was a huge help. As long as I could just grasp the material while being able to read my atrocious handwriting, I could actually become a college grad.
By the time Winter rolled around, I was wiped out. Class days were long, and classwork was becoming very tedious. Luckily though, I was feeling much more confident than before. My score was quite high due to the power of consistency and some good test scores. I now knew that I could pass without a doubt. In my exhaustion, I could still really appreciate that feeling. I used to think it was just an associate’s degree and would wonder, what’s the big deal? People may still think that, and it’s totally fine. I don’t see it that way anymore though. This isn’t just a degree, it represents the human spirit. It is years of struggle, a symbol that I can one day look at and know that I didn’t quit. Lastly, it’s a promise fulfilled to a special person.
The final exam was a long cumulative assessment. I had my struggles and didn’t have the complete course lessons fully nailed, yet I didn’t have the usual nerves. I was more filled with anticipation for the end and just some general hype. It’s possible that this would be the last exam that I’d ever take. I didn’t feel like I had to really soak it in or anything like that though. I just wanted my life back. It was time to start full-time creating again.
Of course, I never really stopped creating. A creator never truly stops. Sometimes there just happens to be some lulls in the magic. I don’t ever expect to be a constant, creative robot, and I know the truth about these lulls and creative burnout. I also know when the break has started to feel excruciatingly long. That’s usually when it’s time to force yourself back into things until it feels natural again. I know we sure as hell aren’t here forever. It was great to hit this personal, academic goal. What really gets my motor running though? Creative goals.
When I look back at everything I’ve done, it’s a long-ass list. Some things on there I can barely even remember writing or producing, yet there they are. It’s awesome to have this to look back on whenever I need a boost. I love the reminder to myself that I have the ability to get cool shit done, however, for as long as it is, I feel I’ve barely scratched the surface. There’s still so much to do. For instance, I’d like to be able to make a full-length feature film before I die. A very meaty goal, yes, but I’ve seen and been through some serious shit. I could pull that off. I have ambition, ideas, drive, and lots of awesome friends who are willing to help. The one thing that I really seem to be running out of is time.
One of the first things I did after finishing my exam was make the annual Christmas episode of the podcast. This would be the fifth one since rebooting the podcast back in 2020. Holy shit! Where the hell did all that time go? Even with all of the projects stacking up, whenever I finish a project, it still always just seems like a build-up to something bigger. I can’t help but wonder if I should have seen that project all the way through to the end or come up with a different concept entirely. Was I pushing down a more ambitious project for something easier or more lazy, just so that I could say that I had shot something? Can I still enjoy the process and be strict about deadlines? How the fuck can I possibly be in my 30s already?
Of all those rapid-fire questions, the last one kept replaying in my head as I awoke on the morning of my 34th birthday. It was strange. I wasn’t feeling all that old, but for the last five years or so, things felt like sort of a trance. In my haze, I grieved and created like a madman, never really thinking about age. For some reason though, on this particular Winter morning, it has hit me hard in the face. I guess it was just a matter of time. I know it’s not for some unknown reason. I was already working my way out of a previous hole, and the very obvious fact was that even if you think it’s just another day on the calendar, it represents another year and more sand from the hourglass. For me, it has always been a time for reflection, both on good and not-so-good things.
I started with the bad stuff as I reflected in my cozy bed that morning. I was working very had to pull myself out of the pit, but the Winter was kicking my ass. The long dark was rearing its ugly head and even though it was now weeks after my last exam, there was little to no improvement. I was sleeping like shit, I had lots more anxiety than I was generally accustomed to, and I was often letting my anger get the best of me.
This was no ordinary pit. It lingered long and ran very deep. I had all the right kinds of tools and could even consult old journal entries for inspiration, I just needed more of the right kinds of action. I say the right kind because it’s not like I wasn’t taking any. I was back to creative land, and while that was good, I was neglecting some other things that were a pretty big deal. Everything matters. A balance is needed to maintain optimal life. Words that I so obviously knew, yet in recent practice, that’s all they became. Nothing more than hollow, useless, words. Since starting school, I had slowly started letting workouts slip until they got to the point where three solid efforts a week would be considered a good week. The lack of workouts affected my overall motivation and consistency. From there I started going heavy on the energy drinks, spending a lot of nights tossing and turning. Small slips turned into big ones, and soon enough I got very comfortable with this life. It’s not like work and school wasn’t a lot of work. I did deserve to have breaks, but I also deserved way better treatment from myself.
I looked up at the fast-spinning blades of the fan, still deep in thought. “I’ve got to turn this around. I will turn this around.” The first step towards doing that, in my mind, was to shift from the bad and focus now on some good. For one thing, I finally fucking graduated. It was a big deal. I still remember that young, unmotivated, asshole very well. That version of me was a big dreamer, which I’m so grateful for, but the drive just wasn’t there. I often skated by, just feeling that everything would work out because up until that point, everything had. I was a rather privileged person. I wasn’t rich or anything, but I had a pretty cushy childhood. I had good friends and tried just hard enough to get through high school. I assumed that with big dreams and hope, you could have whatever you wanted. I had never meant to get myself so far off course, I just got to a point where giving up seemed to be the most viable option. Worse yet, I just felt I wasn’t good enough for all this stuff anymore. What I was good at? Partying.
With partying being the new focus and sole motivation, that degree seemed to fade more and more with each passing year, until I eventually stopped thinking about it altogether. If only that drunken bastard could see me now.
More good? It was my birthday, which meant I made it another year. I was in good health too. In fact, I was feeling much better now than I had felt through a lot of my 20s. I could now feel my eyes grow less heavy and an overall shift in my energy. “Come on pal, we’re not that old yet, but at the same time, move your fucking ass!”
Later that day, we visited a mall and walked around for a bit, as per my special birthday request, of course. I felt a little bit frustrated because my Dad had insisted on a specific restaurant for that evening. It was a detail that had been mentioned to me previously, like over a week ago previously. Oops. Damn this memory! This kept options limited for birthday plans in the afternoon. To be fair though, it was also my Dad’s birthday. I know, crazy shit, right? With that in mind, I figured maybe it was just a place he really liked, so it was whatever.
When I made my way into the crowded restaurant that evening, I was immediately thrown off guard. The first figure to catch my eye was my friend Johnnie. What a weird coincidence! A few more feet in, plenty more familiar faces. Now it all makes sense why this specific place at this specific time. My family had thrown me a surprise birthday/graduation party. There were lots of family, friends, and great food. The fact that I had felt any frustration had now made me feel like an asshole. I couldn’t sit and dwell on it though, as I was working my way out of the pit as it was. What I could do was try to learn from it and do my best to change. Actually, it’s more of a responsibility to myself and less of a “could”. Being aware of one’s own assholeishness is just half the battle.
I tried to stay in the moment and just enjoy every bit of that party. It had been so long since I’d seen some of these people and had no idea when I’d see some again. Another reality of that ticking clock is the fact the lives get busy, thus making things more difficult to plan. I try to acknowledge these moments. More good stuff to add to the list from the morning: friends and family. I have a long list of really cool, supportive, people. That’s something not everybody gets to say.
My list of good was looking, well, good! I was happy to be back into some positive thinking again, but I kept myself in check. It’s not an overnight process to get back to the warm and fuzzy days of discipline and non-stop content creation. Forward progress is always killer though.
The party wrapped up as I said my goodbyes and shoveled one last piece of cake into my mouth. A few months passed and I find myself holding that letter about the postage. I think about the previous journey, among others. The long run, the long dark, and pits. If I didn’t write it down, sometimes it’d be hard to believe. I shift my eyes down toward the contents of the letter once more. The upcoming graduation ceremony would be the final milestone of this back to school saga. It would then be time for the next challenge. I had no clue what would be next on the agenda, but I looked forward to it.
We’re now in the present moment and it is time to wrap things up. I still have no major future plans, just a few ideas. I would also say, I’m not fully out of my pit. I don’t see a clear path to get back to those manic years of creation. It’s also possible that going back to an exact replica of that is no longer possible.
What I am doing, however, is going back to basics. I’m using tools that I’ve acquired from past lessons. I’m listening to positive audio and getting more positive myself. My head is down and I’m putting in work. I’m continuing to write, even if it comes out sloppy on paper and often sounds like the rantings of a lunatic. I’ll continue to hold my large dreams close to my heart, realizing that the clock keeps on ticking. I’ll see this age, acknowledge it, finish mourning the loss of the previous one, and finally let it go. There’s a whole lifetime of magic ahead of me. I’ll never know if I need to catch up or how deep the pits will get. I don’t know a lot of things, but I’ll continue to battle until I can no longer hold a pen…which I hope is not for a long, long time. I mean, come on, 34 isn’t that old, right? Right?!
Media Pod Smash, off!
END
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