The other day I came across a song called “It feels good to write a song” by Vulfpeck, and it occurred to me that I haven’t written a song in over 2 years, perhaps 3. I used to be able to write freely, words appearing like ether, wafting with ease to complete an entire thought - a mini-story in catchy rhymes, the melody of the hook line that I can still conjure up from memory. I would look at my Notes application with the date of creation of the song, know exactly where I stood in that point in time and smile to myself, as if it was my little secret, my own Eras tour without Taylor Swift. Often times, I would be weeping while writing, feeling huge relief by the final edit, with a lingering pain in my chest. I said what I needed to say, I allowed myself to be vulnerable even if only in private. And I could finally move on to experience more life with renewed enthusiasm and courage. “Who cares if I get hurt, at least I get a song out of it!”, I’d often joke to myself.
Of late, I’m getting no thoughts, no melodies. I’m getting hurt but birthing no songs. It’s as if music and lyrics have deserted me entirely. How, after I started writing in my teens, does my life not need it anymore? I feel like I’m only flesh and bone with no consciousness, no soul. I sing other people’s songs but I have no inclination to create any of mine. It used to be as natural as breathing itself. Sigh, even my metaphors are clichés.
I’m not usually one to embed myself deep in existential thought, but this is an entirely new feeling, a rather uncomfortable one. I’m no longer a medium to my feelings, my joy, my frustrations, my sadness. Singing other people’s songs and acting out other people’s words keep me safe, as if my vulnerability is my greatest weakness. I remember when I learnt the word Equanimous, advertised like the most ideal state of being. Now I'm equanimous for all intents and purposes and I'm not thrilled (well...) Or am I simply pretending? Hiding? Not just from others but from my own self?
I recently started training to be an actor. During the 3-day workshop I broke down on all 3 days, like it was the first time in years I was being allowed to be vulnerable without judgment. And I kept apologizing to my instructors and fellow students, joking about being too sensitive, feeling guilty I was taking up too much space and attention with my big exaggerated feelings expressed by my big loud voice, as if minimizing them would be unselfish and more graceful for an older lady such as me. But I got no judgment back, instead I got more space and a greater opportunity to connect with everyone emotionally.
I am tired of apologizing for feeling a lot, feeling too deeply and pretending to make others comfortable by making myself small. I simply cannot explain myself anymore, I will not. I no longer make space for people who can’t make space for me.
I am still incredibly wary of opening myself up again, and this post is the most astonishing thing as it is also the first I’m posting on the blog in a long time! This page has been and will always be my one true safe space. And maybe when I get more comfortable, words will flow again, melodies will compose again, songs will birth again. I shall wait for that joy with eagerness.
