I would like to believe that I’m on the right path. That there is some guidance in this universe and that everything that I’m doing is in some way right, and even if it isn’t, it’ll all work itself out. I will work it all out. 

Right now I’m in a fairly stable job. Part time with the possibility for full time, and generally a lot of room for growth. And I like this comfort of being financially stable. My middle-class upbringing has made me a certain way and it’s very difficult to unlearn certain aspects of this lifestyle. But oh, the bourgeois guilt. 

Sometimes I lie in bed at night, unable to fall asleep because I’m constantly struck by anxiety; I am terrified about my life choices. What am I doing right now? Who am I trying to please? And most importantly, why can’t I seem to change? 

Maybe a greater effort needs to be put forth. 

The goal at the time being is to stick with this job as a way to support myself while I pursue my writing and photography on the side. Someone said to me that it’s no good to have a Plan A and a Plan B, because every plan should be Plan A. As great advice as that is, for some of us it’s just not practical. When you have people relying on you, when the force of culture and family weigh in heavy on your shoulders, the more difficult it is to break from it because once you do, once you decide to live your life the way you want, you become selfish, arrogant, and ungrateful. 

Maybe I just care too much about what my family thinks of me. And maybe I care too much about what my mother’s friends think about her and her gay son who still lives at home. 

Maybe it all has to do with shame. 

***

Sometimes I think dreamers have it the hardest. Because to be a real dreamer you really have to have no shame. You have to be unbelievably resilient against all of the criticism directed towards dreamers, also known in some circles as freeloaders, hippies, and “artists”. Some dreamers live out and proud, while others are a little more hesitant to reveal their dreams to others. Scared, because dreamers are silly and to have a dream is obviously something to be embarrassed about (How dare you not be practical! We are in an economic crisis!). But what sucks most of all are the dreamers who dream with no action, their feet cemented into the ground, out of fear. 

My mind sometimes drifts back into history and I think about everyone who has ever had to claw their way through life just to survive—women, people of colour, and queers, just to name a few. Time and time again, some asshole will try to bring them down. But I’ve learned that to have a dream and to fight for it is to guarantee your survival. Maybe not your physical body, but your ideas, your convictions and your hopes—they live on in someone else. Because dreamers don’t stand still.

They’re moving and shaking and changing. They’re creating, dancing, making horrible mistakes and rising from the ashes. Always loving the hardest. Always working towards making the best happen. Turning nothing into something.

Straw into gold. 

Last year Bob Dylan compiled a song list for Starbucks’ Artist Choice Series. In addition to offering up a keen selection of country, blues, and jazz, he also supplied notes and commentary as to why he held the songs in such regard. BUT, the best part was the forward.

He wrote, “When I was asked to put together this collection of songs, I wasn’t sure what to do. So I just grabbed a bunch of things I was into recently. Some people have favorite songs, but I’ve got songs of the minute — songs that I’m listening to right now. And if you ask me about one of those songs a year from now, I might not even remember who did it, but at the moment it’s everything to me.”

I bring this up as today’s lesson: Nothing is final. One day you’re high. The next day you’re low. You might have a funky, expressive, or awful haircut today, but soon it will grow into something else, something new and random. Maybe you grew up liking pop music and boy bands, but now you like a specific mash up of Electronic & Classical. You might decide you don’t want to smoke cigarettes anymore; that it’s just not who you are. Maybe you were a staunch republican but now have curiosities about the well-spoken and well-organized Democratic Nominee. Perhaps you were madly in love last week, but woke up today feeling comfort in solitude, without a desire to be held.

Everything is fine. Not finAL.

We tend to instantly identify with “things.” And we believe in so much, when in fact, a belief isn’t known to be true. It’s a hope for the truth. We hold grudges because of what someone said when we were young. We store hurtful words and replay them in our minds until we think it to be true. And some of us believe a TV commercial and think we need a faster computer, a smarter phone, a stronger pill, a more relaxed-fit jean, etc. We think that certain things, thoughts, or actions make us who we are and sometimes we become addicted to those thoughts or behaviors and then become too afraid to let them go.

I write and post a lot therefore many people assume I have every self-published word memorized or that I live these shared thoughts constantly. This is not the case. My brain doesn’t reference myself very well actually, and I’m sure I contradict myself every other day in one way or another. One day I feel like I have all the wisdom of the world and the next day my soul wears thin and I stutter just ordering ice cream.

And everything is fine.

Because I trust in the ever-changing climate of the heart. (At least, today I feel that way.) I think it is necessary to have many experiences for the sake of feeling something; for the sake of being challenged, and for the sake of being expressive, to offer something to someone else, to learn what we are capable of. These meanderings, rants, and blogs for instance, provide a great deal of comfort just sharing it, even though i put a part of myself on the line to be criticized or considered an ass.

Oh well, Courage is triumph of the soul is guess. and an Ass can still be of great service.

So Remember, You have the right to change your mind.

About anything.

Anytime.

This is not the ending.

P.S. – No doesn’t mean forever. It simply means, “Not right now.”

And on the topic of Not right now, whatever happened to you in the past is not happening now.

You will be safe behind your honest decisions and mood swings.

I promise.

-mraz

Berlin

We may still be in August, but very soon Autumn will arrive. 

That time of the year reminds me of a lot of different things, like new fall clothes and back to school… oh how I miss going back to school. It also reminds me of Halloween and cool, Autumn evenings, the kind where the weather is perfect enough for hot tea outside and big knit sweaters on a porch. I love Autumn. It’s one of my favorite seasons.

But along with this season comes people leaving, going back to school, back to work, etc. And so it is with great sadness that I say goodbye to my dear friend Amrita, who will be going off to Vietnam in a few days to teach. 

(2008)

This beautiful and inspirational woman has had a profound impact on my life. Her sense of hope and faith are infallible, and she sense of beauty is just breath taking. I wish you could all see the work she has done. 

(2011)

I will miss her dearly for these next two years. 

I also wish her the best, and I hope you all will help me in doing so as well. 

Once a year, or, at least we try to—my friend Amrita and I go down to Nuit Blanche, an all night festival of arts that takes place all over downtown Toronto. People have exhibitions everywhere—alleyways, abandoned subway stations, stairwells, parks, street corners, parking lots, you get the picture.

So the two of us hunker downtown, bundled up warmly for the night and we set out to explore and capture all the cool stuff we can find on our cameras.

She’s really the only person in the world who understands the artistic crazy inside of me. She won’t judge if I crawl down onto the dirt to take a picture. She won’t judge if I come across a painting that causes me to cry like a little baby bitch. And most importantly, she inspires me everyday.

If you find someone like her, hold onto them.

For dear life.

As an artist, I believe in possibilities. I believe in the infinite, the endless, the constant spinning and turning and changing of the world, over and over again. Which I think explains my love for tumblr and most social media—it’s the beautiful way in which ideas become recycled, each one of us taking something deep and personal or light and superficial from the images or quotes that come up on our dashboard. We then pass them on so that others can, in turn leave their own imprint of wisdom, affection, love, hate, companionship, a connection, a fleeting sense of community… something to remind them that they too are a part of something. 

It’s all really wonderful.

I went to the beach today with a dear friend, Amrita. 

Amrita is also a fellow artist. We have commiserated over many things together for the past few years, and lately it seems that we continue to hit the same wall over and over again, stuck in this weird paralysis of movement forward. Like our feet are stuck in the mud. 

Is it a lack of passion? Lack of faith? Lack of empathy? Because our wells have run dry and the only tears left, we reserve for us?

We both draw inspiration from the good in the world and we become invigorated with happy feelings and thoughts, our brains spinning with ideas and imaginations. And we believe, for a moment, that the world is going to turn out okay because we feel infinite. But when there isn’t enough of the good to feed us, we wither. We falter. We stop growing. We become paralyzed. 

I believe firmly that we are not the only ones who feel this way.

However, in the past few days it has come to my attention that maybe it isn’t the world, because every morning I still manage to wake up to see the sun, feel the breeze, drink my coffee, speak to friends, hug my grandmother, get angry at something silly and fall asleep late in the night. 

And it occurs to be that this can’t be so bad. 

So no more standing still and complaining about the external world, the invisible barriers that prevent us from being great, all of the excuses we continue to build up around ourselves like great walls keeping progress out. I have to stop thinking that I deserve to be happy, because that is lazy thinking. If I want happiness, true happiness, I need to make it happen.

It won’t just come to me.

We need to be better versions of ourselves, every single day.