When I was a kid, I loved the music of Blake Rowe, who had then recorded two cassette tapes of kids music. One of my favorite songs was a sort of musical version of Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day. The chorus went like this:
Don't try to cheer me up
'cause I'm not in the mood.
And I don't really wanna
change my attitude.
I wanna feel rotten;
wanna feel bad.
So leave me alone -
because I'm happy I'm mad!
That's where I am right now - in a funk, and not very receptive to suggestions on how to get out of it. I'm convinced that my writing sucks, I'll never successfully connect with an audience from a stage, I'll never be Really Good with children, or even a very good cook. The synagogue I plan to attend for Rosh Hashannah and Yom Kippur services won't let a woman blow shofar for them, my bencher-compiling project is being thwarted at every page, and I really need to do laundry. Even my body's been cranky - my theories about lactose intolerance are being proven a little more each day. Harrumph.
My sense of perspective is on vacation with my genius (a genius is a disembodied spirit that influences the success of one's artistic work - see this talk by Elizabeth Gilbert for fabulously-delivered insight on that front). I'm sure they're in the mental equivalent of Tahiti, enjoying cocktails on the beach and yakking about how much they don't miss me, and in fact, how they'd like to perch on someone else's shoulder for a change. Someone a little less stubborn, someone a little less crazy. Maybe Howard Dean's in the market. Or Oscar the Grouch.
There's a still, small voice that comes from somewhere around my left knee that pipes up from time to time. I can barely hear it over the crazybrain, but today, while I was waiting for the bus, it said, loud and clear:
"Dane, you're in a funk. And you will get out of it. But only after you accept that you won't be able to yank yourself out of it with sheer stubbornness. So relax, okay?"
Harrumph.
3 comments:
Dear Dane,
I love you. If you would like to call and grump at me, you may do so until 1pm EST today (Im's coming to visit). I promise not to cheer you up, unless you want an offensive joke.
Love
Abby
Last night, at Shabbat dinner, a Kibbutz-inner-circle-nik (someone who doesn't live on the kibbutz, but might as well) said to me:
"Can I offer suggestions on how NOT to get out of your funk?"
Of course I said yes, to which she suggested:
- Jump on porcupines
- watch depressing movies with people you don't like
- eat undercooked beans
With friends like her and Abby, who needs cheering up? I love them.
Even in a funk, you are still writing! That's always a good sign...
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