Here’s a soft instrumental for today.
Note that I’m just an almost 30-year-old guy trying to make sense of his life and the variety of experiences that go along with it. Take what follows as a product of my own observations.
When I first pursued a music career to create something bigger out of my interests, I came across the idea of the flow state while absorbing a ton of articles, books, movies, and conversations on artistry and entrepreneurship. It’s spouted as tranquil proficiency, symbolizing an achievement of full mastery and endless inspiration. To me though, it seemed to be just a fancy way of describing uninterrupted focus at best.
Despite my reservations, after years of searching for stable footing as an artist, I was gifted a taste of a supersensory phenomenon, challenging my long-standing skepticism of spiritual concepts like enlightenment and divine inspiration. Now, here I am, ever curious of their very rhetoric, presenting you the lessons that led me to discover a glimpse into a more profound flow state.
THE FLIP SIDE OF INSPIRATION
A couple years ago, I was at a point, without much for desired results, after
having self-released two albums
having produced a couple music videos out-of-pocket
having played shows around Los Angeles
having paid for exposure
having gone out to network every night I could
and having done the whole social media thing
where my quickly ending 20’s brought an accelerated sense of urgency and guilt of failure. Wide-eyed and childish, I had quit a well-paying job in 2016 to risk it, full force, as a creative. Growing older, unfortunately, punctured my daily thoughts with sharp pangs of regret.
I found myself rushing, thinking if I carried out yet another release, something would stick, if I made just enough content and got it in front of just enough people, eventually I would break through. I bolted myself into my workstation like a production machine, spitting out whatever I could, only to regurgitate the same stories, the same sounds, and the same shit, day-in and day-out.
But it was all just shit, you know, shit that fed into my negative feelings, feelings that pressured me to force out more crap, crap that trapped me into repeating this cycle over and over until complete shutdown. Eventually, the creative juices tapped out. Motivation could no longer exist. My mind and body deemed themselves officially out-of-order.
A dooming weight sank down my stomach, anchoring me rigid.
Everything I create sucks. Sucks. Major. Ass.
For six months, NOTHING came out.
Burnout and a heavy dose of reality cemented me in defeat, convincing me to quit and go back to my old life.
I didn’t realize it at the time, but that pit of hopelessness was a required purgatory.
In physics, it’s necessary to fall all the way to one polar end to have enough potential energy to slingshot to the other end.
Before I could understand how to be great at something, I needed to be humbled first.
IT’S NOT JUST ABOUT YOU, SILLY
Early 2019, I went snowboarding for the first time in years to escape my foggy thoughts.
I hoped to clear my mind, which I did…
by shooting off a cliff and smashing into a tree head first.
Whatever wisdom that tree was made of jumpstarted my brain. I lay there for a while, granted a chance to continue living, suddenly with clear insight into why everything I made sucked.
Everything I was doing was selfish.
I started this journey with arrogance, thinking I could bring something “avant-garde” to the table. The core intent was to impress others, particularly women, to gain respect and admiration that I foolishly thought I deserved.
When I realized I wasn’t gaining recognition, I tried to mock up a persona, use formulaic marketing tactics, and copy trends to make up for lost time. The core intent had been further perverted for monetization. I scurried for a quick way to make it, get the bag, and obtain the status of a self-made man.
That’s such a self-centered motivation, a disgusting nature that bled into my art. It’s no wonder everything I made sucked. No one wants to hear that nonsense. No one enjoys having to listen to someone else’s whining or self-importance. No one cares. They have enough problems of their own.
That shit doesn’t resonate.
Think about it…
With the limited time we have in this world, aren’t we prone to appreciate art, services, people, and products that provide good to our lives?
It’s the principle of “What the hell can you do for me?”
That’s secret #1: If you want to succeed in society and be deemed of value, you must strive to give the world equal value in return.
I didn’t figure this out until a brush with death helped me cherish the privilege of life. Previous years had passed by quickly without much consideration. Time, now precious, couldn’t be wasted wallowing in misery or chasing frivolous ends. Life didn’t give up on me, so naturally, I invested back.
I aspired to create again, but as a source of value to those who wished to listen.
I began erasing traces of the artist I had created for shallow gain.
Much due recalibration.
DARE TO BE AUTHENTIC FIRST
Finally realizing why I sucked at music, and probably life in general, was a good philosophical step forward, but it still begged the question:
How do you actually provide value?
Rather, how do you truly connect with others?
It’s simple: Empathy.
It’s walking a mile in their shoes, understanding their unique pulses from their passions, worries, memories, and hardships.
For most of us, however, it is a muscle we barely use or learn to suppress, especially when, through traumas, we’re programmed with survival instincts that are innately self-serving. Not to mention, people are not so quick to open up about such deeply guarded information in the first place.
As for me, removing that selfish artist may have opened the gate holding back a lot of the outside world, but I was still bunkered inside with a loaded shotgun.
While people had the opportunity to visit my inner self, I panicked a lot, and more often than not, I reached for my shotgun, shooing most back out. Some, I pointed the barrel at if I feared them touching anything fragile. One had near VIP access, but I ended up deeply wounding to scare away.
That shotgun is my truckload of trust issues, and it packs shells of hurtful ways to quickly shut people out of my life. Whatever happened in my past, I had not confronted it properly and had not purged its impact. Thus, there existed deeply embedded perceptions on relationships, dark in nature, that had employed my psyche to stack up thick walls. That egotistic artist was merely the surface of defense mechanisms designed and layered to protect myself from ever appearing weak again.
Still, ever the persistent teacher, life kept proving this fact: you must drop your guard first for people to be comfortable enough to mirror that action.
Eventually, you have to let people in.
To do so was an excruciating exorcism of the soul. There was so much to unpack while trying to figure out why my thoughts and emotions were stifled at the throat. Was it fear of rejection, isolation, or ridicule? Not so easy to pinpoint as it was a concoction of many insecurities. Many times, I found myself defaulting to old behaviors when things got too close to unbridled exposure.
But each attempt at honesty was an exercise in draining the poison, one drop at a time. The more I trusted people with who I was, am, and will be, the more people, the right people, accepted me and trusted me to be of good service.
My newfound authenticity started bringing in opportunities at a rate much greater than any shortcut I tried in the past.
Through those, inspiration was basically provided for me as a bonus.
ENTRUSTING YOUR BODY TO INSTINCT
With more people actually hiring me for my skillset, I had to become more knowledgeable in my craft to offer such service appropriately.
For one, if I wanted to identify as a singer-songwriter, I had better become a damn good singer. Objectively, I was merely “alright,” so I had to fix whatever the hell I was doing wrong.
Luckily for me, intending to get a better set of pipes is how I found my final puzzle piece. The guidance from my vocal teacher developed an awareness of not only my technical faults but also the various physical sensations that were obstructing me from fully engaging in my activities.
When I actually focused on what my body was going through, even during something straightforward like breathing, I began to notice that my facial muscles, jaw, neck, shoulders, pelvis, and everything else down to my toes were holding so much stress and tension. During a typical day, we don’t really get to pay attention to what’s happening due to constant work and obligations. On top of that, the amount of sensory noise we’re surrounded by contaminates the brain with the energy of countless things moving around us. We’re taking in all that information and deciphering it, maybe not consciously at times, but definitely unconsciously always.
How can you relax if your neck is sore, your fist is clenched, your neighbor’s dog is barking, or a car zooms by with a bazooka for an engine? Those temporary spikes are extra to all the long-term worries and traumas we’re holding onto as baggage. Infinite distractions conspire to knock us off our balance.
In other words, there’s a lot of emotional bandwidth we’re dealing with on a day-to-day basis.
It’s no wonder most of us only have the energy to care about ourselves. We practically have to push ourselves daily to produce results.
With that in mind, I approached each lesson and practice with a singular goal: to sing fully relaxed like an open canal, allowing all that extra data to pass through me.
I worked my way down, releasing pressure from the top of my skull to the soles of my feet. Bit by bit, I was getting rid of the remaining blockages of my mind, my soul, and my body. I prevented invasive thoughts from dwelling longer than a second. I focused my efforts on knocking away rising tension. As my whole being became clearer, I grew confident in my actions, slowly relinquishing forced control.
Anytime I reached unfamiliar territory, fear and frustration snatched the trance back. I took note, revisiting that area multiple times until it became second nature. As I overcame those obstacles, stopped demanding the outcome, and trusted the body to learn until full surrender to instinct, a new sensation arose. My body started tingling, vibrating, literally resonating with the song I was singing.
For a brief moment, I was in a state of pure relaxation, ecstasy, and freedom. Any worry that had to do with me as an individual didn’t exist here. My sense of self disappeared as I became one with the lyrics, the melody, the emotion, the intended message. I became an instrument, no longer the one in control, rather being played by the depths of what the song was expressing.
That was my flow state.
It wasn’t just pure focus. It was letting go of the ego.
It was a connection to something bigger than myself.
YOU MUST NOT FIGHT AGAINST IT
Remember my snowboarding accident?
Here’s an alternative quick take:
When you’re on the slopes, you can’t change the laws of gravity and friction, you can only work within their inevitabilities. You’re definitely not sturdier than the tree.
In addition, there are limitations to what we humans can do, but the better you align yourself with what that entails, the better equipped you’ll be to maneuver alongside this universe’s laws.
Without practice, you’ll be stuck in your head, the self-obsessed mortal realm, where you’ll ultimately learn that you can’t just tell your board to go left or slow down. Thinking you can call yourself a professional without paying your dues will get you thrown on your butt a million times or worse, killed.
You have to practice to be able to ride what’s given to you, effortlessly noticing and working with the patterns waiting ahead. You’ve got to be so good that the only thing you need to manage is wading through any thought or tension that threatens to knock you back into your head.
If you’re focused on something other than carving your way down or frustrated about forcing a technique you’re not good enough to perform yet, you’re bound to fail.
Overthinking is a bottleneck, and it will mess you up.
When it’s just you, the board, and the mountain, waltzing together in fluid motion, captivated in a spell where no other thoughts are present, the fun begins.
You make a partnership with nature, an entity more powerful than you.
LIFE AND ART
This journey taught me about checks and balances.
Before I could achieve the flow state, I needed to encounter its complete opposite: stagnation.
Before I could receive any commendation, I had to stop making it all about myself and focus on giving back.
Before I could hope to understand others and have them open up, I had to let go of my own defenses.
Before I could more freely navigate this world, I had to acknowledge my limitations compared to the universe.
Do I think I’m amazing at what I do?
I’m nowhere near where I’d like to be, but I’m finally taking a step in the right direction.
I don’t have to rush anymore. I don’t create unless it comes from a genuine place, where the ideas pile in without any insistent demand from my part. That inspiration can come every day or once a month. I don’t mind, because of this parting concept.
Art, when broken down to its most basic core, is expression.
What comes out of your hands is a reflection of who you are deep down.
So, if you’re worried about how your music, art, or personality will make you look or if others will like what you do, you’ve already lost.
That hesitation and worry will taint your creativity.
Channeling a more intense flow state is a reward for pure dedication to a purpose higher than yourself.
Be patient. It will come.
Kill that ego and just let go.
“Whatever happens, happens.” – Cowboy Bebop