Monday, July 7, 2008

A Constant State of Panic

I’ve been in what I like to refer to as “a constant state of panic” for the last few weeks. I’ve been looking for a new apartment, which you probably know can be a highly frustrating and stressful experience. Work hasn’t been exactly easy on me either. Quite frankly, I’m tired. I probably need a vacation.

I am also feeling a little weary as far as my life direction is concerned. I’m struggling with some of the choices I’ve made in my life so far. There are so many things I want to do with my life and yet I don’t know how to get to where I want to be. There is this drive inside me to create music and stories, and there is this drive inside me to explore the different ways people choose to make sense of themselves and the world around them. Withstanding the Lie is certainly a big step in the direction in which I would like my life to go, no question about it. But sometimes I find myself wondering: “I may be on my way, but will I ever make it there? And just exactly where is ‘there’ anyway?”

I know it is normal to ask these questions and to feel uncertainty about life and where you’re going. “Am I doing the right thing?” you ask yourself. “Is everything going to be alright?” But lately I’ve been wondering quite a lot about it. And the fear that something is “wrong” or “not right” has been a little more at the forefront of my mind. I know I just need to relax. Chill out. Take a few deep breaths and just go with the flow. I’m not usually the kind of person who worries about things. So, this feeling of anxiety, this constant state of panic, is really something new for me.

I’m anxious because I feel that somehow a lot is at stake if things don’t “go right.” The truth of the matter is that often when we feel anxious or panicked about something we are attached to something. We cling with desperation because we believe that if we lose what we cling to we lose ourselves, our identities. New York has become my home. It has become where I feel comfortable, because it is here where I have grown so much. And it is also where I feel my greatest opportunities are. If I leave this city (because I can’t find an affordable place to live), I feel as if I’m losing a part of myself, as if part of me will go missing.

It is in these thoughts where clinging or attachment live. In some way, I feel as if my sense of self, my identity is wrapped up in the place where I live and even more still in the dreams and desires I have. But in reality, this is not true. My identity is not wrapped up in where I live or what I accomplish. I am full and complete no matter where I live and no matter what I do or don’t do. That’s the message we try to get across in Withstanding the Lie. We are all full and complete human beings no matter our gender, race, sexuality, and so on. These things do not make us whole or un-whole. Your sense of self, your identity has nothing to do with societal labels, job titles, or social interests. It is a lesson so much easier said than done. I am co-author of a book that advocates this very thing, and here I am struggling with the concept. It is not an easy thing to grasp and I don’t think it ever will be. It might get a little “less hard,” or more manageable. It is struggle everyday to understand that who we are is not the same as what we are.

I’m not exactly sure how to pull myself out of my constant state of panic. There are many techniques you can use to alleviate anxiety. There are actually quite a few we ourselves offer in Withstanding the Lie (as far as attachment is concerned). But at the end of the day, you have to figure out what works for you in your particular situation. For me I think what will be most helpful to gain some clarity will be remembering who I really am. I am not the city in which I live. I am not my dreams and desires. I am simply a human being. I’m going to try to spend the rest of the evening (and probably the week) peeling away these attachments, stripping off the false identity I have been wearing to hopefully reveal the naked me underneath. Like I said before so much easier said than done. I’ll let you know how I do.