Thursday, September 13, 2012

I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell.

I had an odd little exchange here in the office this morning, and it’s got my wheels turning. 

Of course it does.  And I’m probably over-thinking things, but…well…that’s kind of what I do best.  Over-think things.

Anyways.  I was barely in the door this morning until my co-worker, friend, and just all-round great guy, Rolly, walked in the office.  He was doing his usual Tazmanian-Devil-spin around the office, when he suddenly ground to a halt at my desk and said, “Jilly, you know what?  This morning, I woke up to my alarm clock just blaring this great song, and I coulda swore it was you singing.”

See, Rolly is this amazing musician.  Like, uh.may.zing.  A pure and beautiful talent that I feel so fortunate and blessed to know.   While I share his absolute love for all different kinds of music, I could never in a million years hope to be as awesome as he is. 

Despite this, Rolly has always nurtured my interest in playing guitar, recommended songs for me to listen to, and offered to help me out with learning more and how to improve my playing.

The fact of the matter is, I lack the raw talent.  I love to play, I love to sing, but I happen to know I sound like a howling cat.  Or nails on a chalkboard.  Whatever.  No matter how much wisdom Rolly imparts on me, I’ll never be that good.  He knows this.  I know this.  And yet, Rolly has always – always -  encouraged me.

So when he told me I sounded like someone on the radio, all I could do was laugh, roll my eyes, and say, “Thanks, Roll – you were half asleep, but I’ll take that as a compliment!”

“No!” he said, “It really did sound like you!  Beautiful voice!”

So again, I give my awkward uncomfortable I-know-I-suck-but-thanks-anyways chuckle, and in an effort to change the subject, I say, “You know, I don’t remember the last time I picked up my guitar…”

Which is a lie.  I know exactly the last time I picked up my guitar.  It was about a month ago.  I played two songs, and my fingers felt like they were being stabbed with knives.  Because prior to that, I hadn’t picked it up since Christmas Eve.  My fingertips have gone soft, no longer calloused; so out of practice that they almost don’t even know what to do anymore…

Rolly offered me a smile, and said, “Well you should.  Pick it back up again.  It’ll make you feel better.”

And then he was gone. 

I sat down, and let the words run through my mind again. 

I frowned.

It’ll make me feel better?  What’s that supposed to mean?  Have I been giving people the impression that I’m *not* feeling well or something?

And then I gave my head a shake.  Truth be told?  I know exactly what he means. 

I’ve been doing some soul-searching lately.  Trying to get back to doing the things that make me happy; that make me me.  It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Rolly has noticed I’ve been off my game for a while now.

I know that I’ve kind of been unwell.  I try not to dwell on it.  I try to ignore it at all costs, in fact.  Sure, it’s been a rough year, but everybody goes through rough times and they survive.  You keep trudging on, you keep smiling, and you’ll be OK.  Eventually.

But I seem to have let go of a few of the things that have always nourished my soul.  I don’t write anymore, save for these blog posts.  And I don’t play guitar anymore.  At all.

How did I let this stuff go?  Why?  When did I become so wrapped up in my own self that I forgot about all of the things that once made me who I am?  The things that I looked forward to?  The things that help me unwind?

Who cares if I sound like nails on a chalkboard?  I sounded like that before and it never stopped me.  Nobody ever came up to me and said, “Just stop.  Now.  You’re horrible.”

But now, I just keep thinking, “I’m no good, why bother?”

Why bother?   Because it makes me happy.

The soul-searching has definitely turned up that realization.  And Rolly’s comment – the “pick it back up, it’ll make you feel better” – has really hit home this morning.

I’ve been unwell.  It’s time to start feeling better again.

It’s time to get back to being me.

I think I’ll start with that ol’ guitbox.

16 comments:

HickChickBritt said...

So what song was on the radio? I think we all get lost sometimes, we lose ourselves in either trying to please others, or just the confusion of life. The idea of learning to find and be happy with yourself sounds like a blessing. I definitely lose myself with a husband and a baby. Hmm maybe I should go backpack across Europe or relive Eat, Pray, Love. Haha in my dreams! But good luck on your venture.

Tiffany said...

Oh my gosh--I know you said my letter to Mr. Right reminded you of yourself, but this blog right here is me to a T! Seriously, I have the same issues. You pick up that guitar and play!!

~Tiffany
http://tiffanyd22.blogspot.com

Beth Wade said...

Yes! This, exactly! We're so programed to give up the things we love if time or money gets tight, because they aren't productive, don't make us money, we aren't perfect at them, etc. And those are the activities to cling to like a life raft. I had the same realization a month ago with being social. Fight the system- do what makes you happy, regardless of talent or time. In the end, your happiness means more than anything else. :)

(That Rolly is a smart guy)

VandyJ said...

I've lost myself a few times since I had Turbo. I find myself not reading, not cooking with any real joy, not doing anything with feeling. I always have to remember if I'm not happy, nothing will seem fun anymore. So I start making an effort to read, cook for fun, have fun with my family--feel again.
You do what makes you feel go again, for you!

Shannon said...

Aww Rolly - always knows the right things to say! What song did he hear? I'm curious now

Nicole said...

I'm like everyone else, what song? And maybe instead of a pre-life crisis, maybe it's a 29 life crisis :). Don't let it get you down and it reminds me of the Notebook when she asks her fiance, I used to paint, did you know that? See we all forget every now and then.

Steph said...

Yay! I demand a picture of you and your guitar.

Once upon a time, I played the guitar. I've played it once since we've had Aubri. She liked it. I want to start playing it again too. For me, it's hard to find the time.

Stacie said...

It happens to the best of us, life gets you down, but you just pick yourself up and keep on truckin'. The music sounds like some excellent therapy!

Nathan said...

Great post, Jill! Keep pushing forward!! What song!?

Kara said...

Yes, Jill - what song???
Get those fingers toughened up for Xmas eve - start practicing now :)

Anonymous said...

Let's do it together.

Jill said...

Sure, Anonymous! Let's do it together! Whoever you may be. lol

Anonymous said...

Your alter ego name is my fave....

Jill said...

hahaha! Sounds good! :)

Nancy said...

Oh, Rolly, a wise little angel. Pick up your guitar, Jillian, and do the little things in life that make you happy and bring joy to your Spirit.

Magical Mystical MiMi said...

I absolutely love this post. So truthful.. You will get back to you, I promise. :) Pursue your music, you will improve and you will feel better. I too am on a journey back to me.. Its been quite a ride thus far but eventually I will get there, and so will you. Keep on keepin' on my bloggee pal! We support you! :D