It’s been a minute since my last post. Why you ask? I guess I’ve learned that if you don’t have anything to say, then say nothing. Despite that our ever-connected world screams at us to say a lot of nothing all the time, I’m trying to learn to keep my thoughts and words to myself unless I consider them worthy enough to share with anyone. I think it’s time.
The best metaphor I can use to describe the journey over the last two years is this: learning to ride a bike without holding on to the handlebars. I think it’s significant for two reasons. First, letting go of the handlebars signifies that the rider is willing to let go of some control and letting go requires balance. But this first part is dangerous right? Suppose there’s no hands and no balance – you crash. But I’ve found that if you crash (and you will), you have to get up again.
The second part of this metpahor is so essential to the first – the constant forward motion. You should always continue to move forward no matter what. It’s actually the moving forward that helps with the balance. Your feet are on the pedals and each stroke moves you forward; that movement builds momentum and can keep you upright. Motion and balance – they are inextricably linked. Life is crazy and always will be, but it keeps going until it doesn’t so why not move forward?
Why do I share this? Because over the last two years I have experienced more changes in my life than I could have ever imagined and letting go, maintaining balance, and moving forward are so important. I was part of a marriage that ended, and though we remain kind and supportive, it is still difficult and forces everyone into a new way of life. After this, I began to understand what it means to be alone and the difference between isolation and solitude. I’ve learned and am still learning that I’m incredibly self-absorbed at times and that I’ve hurt some folks along the way. It’s always hard to learn that you aren’t the center of the universe. I find myself here, a speck in the masses, growing from my mistakes daily and making amends where I’m able.
In tandem with the hard lessons, I’ve also experienced some amazing things. Yes I actually did learn to ride my bike hands free in my early 30’s; you can teach an old Doug new tricks. It seems like a small thing, but it was honestly something I was scared of. I forced myself to do it for that very reason. I’m finding that if it’s not scary, it may not be worth it for me. That’s why I made my first album. That’s why I’ve started making life-long friends. It’s not easy or safe to share in each others hurts and triumphs, but it’s good. It’s scary to be quiet when I just want my voice to be heard, but maybe I should let someone else’s voice be heard instead. I’m learning to trust myself and to see great potential in the person I am rather than the self-loathing I used to feel. But most surprising of all, I’ve started to learn to love again when I wasn’t convinced that love was even a real thing. All of these things are scary but necessary.
With all of these things I’ve been experiencing, I’ve been writing. I have some new thoughts and new songs. Songs that speak the truth about me – a truth I was probably scared to share at one time for fear of how people would perceive me. There are songs that attempt to look beyond my own perspective and into the viewpoint of others around me. New and surprising too, are songs that come from a place of love. SONGS…SONGS…SONGS. I’m calling this collection “The Breakup” – not just because there has been a literal breakup but also because there’s a lot of letting go in general. Letting go of what I can’t control and learning to move forward and find balance. We’ve already headed to the studio and started recording a few tunes and I’m hoping that what you hear will lighten your load.
So with that…stay tuned for things coming and if you’re struggling, let go, move forward, AND find balance.
Blood & Dust