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Dear Diary, What are my motivations?

What are my motivations for doing anything?  Where is the line between finding encouragement in others, and laboring for it?   Wherever that line is, so much of what I do crossed it a long time ago.  I think about my music, for example, and how my mission statement with it from the start was: “music I want to listen to.”  If anyone else ever liked my music, it was a bonus.   Occasionally, for people who already have expressed interest, I’ll share new ideas or projects, but it isn’t something for which I usually seek any kind of attention.  It’s my quiet project away from everything else.

What I have trouble understanding is why I can’t yet adopt such an attitude towards the rest of my life.  The first thought that enters my mind is then I would live in complete isolation, void of any meaningful interaction.  I laugh at myself, as this is essentially how life is already, living in the absence of meaningful interactions with mostly anyone.  Yes, I initiate conversations that are generally brief, and I am given the same empty promises that almost exclusively go unfulfilled. I ponder if those count, but I try to move on entirely, and now I find myself in this awkward space of quiet resignation wherein all the effort in the world isn’t going to change anything in terms of my relationships.

People have told me I’ve done nothing wrong, people have complimented my optimism (much to my surprise), and people have pledged to tip the scales of effort back towards even, but life remains mostly the same day in and day out.   As I have been with a lot of my writings lately, I take a moment and try to unwrap things layer by layer.  What am I doing, and who does it serve?  Am I doing things just for a specific reaction from someone?  Am I doing things for attention from people?

The answer is not necessarily, but after so long of not having much of it (outside of competitions where everyone gets viewed, and I tend to do quite well), I find I’d rather not be invisible.  I stare out of my window again and ask myself:  “Am I making things just to be noticed?”  If the answer is yes, I should stop.  If my heart isn’t in something, it will never work out.  If the answer is no, why can’t I adopt the attitude I have with my music and just be content with whoever comes along?

I know part of the answer is years of negative reinforcement and how that’s not easy to break overnight.  It is difficult to look in the mirror and say I’m worth it independently when it’s all too easy to point to mistakes I’ve made and clear behavior from others indicating otherwise.  As a result, I can look at the awards, the numbers, the conversations of people telling me I’ve made a lot of progress, but the product is the same.  I’m sitting here by myself, silently watching the birds.  As much as I would love to fool myself into thinking something special will happen, someone will initiate with me; fool is the operative word here.

The last time I lived for myself in a meaningful way, I had my best year from almost any and every measurable metric. That was immediately followed by such a dark and nearly-fatal time my doctors still use as a barometer to gauge my present position.  There is much to learn about both times.  I don’t intend to stop helping people.  I do plan to be of assistance when I can be, but I think letting them come to me would be best.  If I’m valued, the effort will be there.  I don’t need to force it or try so hard to seek it.

Monk Anchorwind : 5 May 2020