It’s early morning, and the rain falls as if the clouds were being wrung. I have just crawled from the depths of sleep, and after singing and dancing Fontaine’s song (attached above with lyrics in case you fancied giving it a go) my brain feels a little less like an old-fashioned motor which needs a heck of a lot of oil and a good kicking. I hope what I write today doesn’t end up just being Les Mis lyrics.
I’m no longer in the grips of some horrific common cold, and thankfully this week my routine has begun to slip back into normality, and it’s been pleasant ‘smooth sailing’ this week- the tasks to do have appeared and then I did them (mostly). It’s in these times where one is floating along, getting things done that a new fear can creep in- am I just a little too comfortable?
I’m not talking about working ‘hard’ or even about intensity- I do a fair bit of martial arts which puts a spring in my step, and it’s not like there isn’t enough for me to do. I’m thinking more beyond that- about aspirations, the nature of dreaming about one’s own future. It seems to me, in my drunk on sleepiness state that while it’s not something that always comes freely (or at least not as freely as it did in childhood where, yes Fontaine, ‘dreams were made and used and wasted’) it can be good to cultivate to create a sustained sense of purpose, fulfilment and excitement. What do we do when dreams leave us, or (more preferably) we achieve them? We explore and cultivate new ones.
The human brain is an incredible thing but it’s amazing how much one’s own thoughts can hold you back, especially what I’m talking about here with a lack of aspiration. It’s something that happens to a lot of people, like the engine of a car stalling. Though amazing, the brain is a sucker for whatever your known universe looks like. I was listening to a podcast yesterday where activist (and altogether incredible person, recommend looking her up) Ashlee Marie Preston talked about -depending on who you are and your situation- how society’s agenda for who is acceptable, what it is acceptable to do, are designed to destroy us from the inside (she talked specifically working in activism where so many people run themselves into the ground with the fight of it all). It seems to me that whenever you have the capacity to expand your life, it can in itself be an act of rebellion, to cultivate not only one’s own survival within the life you construct for yourself but also your own joy. For in all this, past the ‘pitch fork mentality’ social media thrives on, attacking people for their behaviour, at the end of the day it’s the systems of oppression and structure of society that is to blame. The purpose of this point? To prove that even when you feel that you’re an engine stalling, it’s probably a wider problem to blame. Maybe life is just too damn exhausting.
I think we forget what a massive overhaul in our lives can do to our capacity to dream and build our ambitions. Whether it be a left-turn in our personal lives, moving city or taking on a new job, there can be little headspace left, it can feel, for the things in life that actually bring the joy. When you’re learning how to survive in new circumstances, your whole world turned upside-down, hounding yourself about your plan for the next five years can feel like a bit of a big ask.
This isn’t to say I live every day with my head in the sand, or that I’m not thinking about and working towards my future- we did a 6 month plan in Wicked Women a couple of months ago which has become a bit of a life-line for my sense of purpose as an artist (freelance? Freefall and free-for-all seem more appropriate). I suppose, it might actually be worthwhile to uphold dreaming with a childlike wonder might not be the best way to go about things. If you have an idea of your passions and purpose, and you’re working towards them, that has huge value. Consistency is the way to achieving things- feeling motivated and like you’re ‘fulfilling your purpose and your wildest dreams’ is just the icing on the cake. The feeling will come and go, that’s beyond our control because the world is beyond our control. If we look at Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, we need a foundation of safety before we reach a time in life at the top of that pyramid, where we work towards self-fulfilment. That’s not something we can do all the time- life is way too messy and changeable for that.
This is making me think even more about how a lot of artists are held on a pedestal for earning a living by living their dreams, that to live in such a way is a luxury. But as comedian Romesh Ranganathan speaks about starting out, there is a feeling of selfishness and self-indulgence. Artists might be portrayed as outsiders to what is considered ‘proper’ society, but that doesn’t mean that those expectations don’t affect us. Feelings of being selfish and being an imposter are rife in artist communities. That’s my experience, anyways. I suppose the differing levels of privilege for artists is not only about family money and connections, but also being allowed the space and being encouraged to dream and aspire. Anything one doesn’t have growing up, has to have supplements that one picks up along the way. It’s not like dreams and aspirations are a definite end if you’re born with money and connections- I think they sort of grow like flowers, and the most brilliant and beautiful ones are the ones born out of the most unlikely and trying situations.
We cannot control our lives per say, we cannot force our dreams, but I think for me it’s foundation lies in the extent to which we pay attention to ourselves. And I don’t mean bowing to the alter of the ‘self-care industry’ (the very words scream ‘I am trying to get your money and dressing it up as health and wellness’) but actually being intuitive to what you need to get through the week, to enjoy your survival. I’ve realised recently the importance of taking advice with a pinch of salt, to find out what works for you. I find myself sometimes thinking wistfully back to exams back at school where I was able to get so much done, pack so much work into the day. It’s easy to gloss over that the reality of life in the past will have been different- of course one has much more energy when living with the privilege of a safe and comfortable home where meals are cooked for you. Things can never happen the same way twice (I think that’s an Aslan quote…sorry) all we can do is be attentive to what our current selves, within our current situation need. Jonathan Van Ness in a recent podcast talked about coping with their mental health when they booked Queer Eye- for them time alone was an important part of their recovery. For me, I did a lot of that at drama school (being around people all the time meant that I craved solitude in my down time) but now it’s different again, working online so often I find I often crave the opposite- time with friends and other creatives that share similar experiences.
I think that sometimes we can clutch too hard onto definitions of ourselves to give ourselves a sense of control and identity, when the truth is, although scary, the world is eternally shifting and changing. And we can’t be afraid to shift and change with it. So if you’re in a period in your life, or more specifically, a career in the arts, where you’re putting in the work, dreaming a figment of the past- never feel it is completely lost to you. It’s in there somewhere- waiting for the right time to come out.
References:
Two allusions to the iWeigh podcast with Jameela Jamil, interviewing Ashlee Marie Preston and Jonathan Van Ness.
The Proper class podcast with Laura Checkley and Hannah Chissick, interviewing Romesh Ranganathan.