I was reminded of an opera concert my friends were performing in. That presented an opportunity for two of my really good friends and I to get together. I hadn't seen them in so long! It's incredible how an event has the ability to bring people back together. That makes me appreciate the opera because it gave me something more than what could fall upon my ears.
I think that's really important to me, but I didn't realize it early in the evening. I arrived later than I would've liked, so I didn't see the entire performance. The truth is that I'm not much of an opera fan. I can appreciate the quality and effort of a beautiful piece, but it's different when it isn't your taste. There's this sense of disconnectedness. It separated me from the crowd who was inspirationally moved, as though the music ignited something in their souls. That's something I don't relate to.
I know it sounds selfish and out of place, but when my friend was receiving numerous compliments, I felt more and more invisible. It wasn't because the spotlight wasn't on me, but I felt like his achievements exposed my inadequacies. It's common that the audience members congratulate the performers, but it was more than your usual flattery they were releasing. These people were mesmerized in a speechless way that was just breathtaking for them. They were intoxicated with both a sense of exhilaration and a state of peacefulness and contentment they didn't walk in with.
What stuck out to me the most is how humble my friend was by the compliments. He truly appreciated them and took them to heart, but I didn't see it inflating his ego. He was grateful to receive their approval and to know that they enjoyed the two hours they sat and watched the performance. The compliments almost relieved him, to know that they were entertained, rather than loving the compliments. I'm sure what they said to him made the gruelings hours of practice worthwhile, but it wasn't about that. It wasn't even about him; it was about the performance and how it transcended beyond the vessels used to create such a magical experience.
How is one able to separate him or herself from their craft of choice and appreciate the art outside of yourself? I know I'm unable to. The compliments still leave a sparkle in my memory. It reinforces me. Without it I feel more lost than usual. But when a person becomes confident in their craft, they no longer crutch off of it. It doesn't stain you.
As I witnessed endless people waiting to spew out the compliments they can't contain, I felt so little in the talent I possess. Inadequacy can be so tragic. I feel like if I have more security in myself as a writer, I'd be able to be a better friend because I wouldn't be dwelling on myself on a night that's supposed to be all about my friend and the performance this amazing group of hardworking individuals put together. Instead I silently observed the reactions of others. If I wasn't so busy being self-involved in my own insecurities, I might've spent more time being envious that others felt this powerful surge of energy that swirled around me but didn't resonate in me.
That's what's so liberating about blogging. I can express these concerns without feeling guilty about it. I know I can share these concerns with my friend if I really needed someone to talk to, but this is something I should work through on my own. It's not his burden to bare. The last thing I want is for him to feel bad that his success pains me because it's not like that at all. Emotions are manipulative, not just when we impose them on others but how we react to them, as well.
Blogging allows me to explore how I feel without concerning myself about whether it feels right or wrong to feel a certain way or about certain things. Feelings are subjective, and they can't be put to the test of right and wrongness. I find myself suppressing how I feel when I perceive them to be inappropriate. But when I release myself from that kind of mentality, I'm able to accept them for what they are. Only then am I able to process it. I feel so that experiences can have meaning.
I was able to appreciate what my friend said much later in the evening because of how I felt hours before that. He wished for us to cultivate our gifts so that we can enjoy what we love. As he was sharing this sentiment to the two of us, he said that he can feel that happening in me already, that I'm progressing towards it. Instead of my usual giddiness when I discover new information, I was calmly reassured as though I already knew this. Sometimes subtlety is stronger than the aggressive reactions.
It means so much to me that he observed that and feels that about me because I trust in his intuition and his honesty. I've been writing my entire life, but it was on Cinco de Mayo that I felt like my world was finally beginning to feel like it's coming together. That's a separate blog for me to elaborate on. My point is that what he said totally correlates with what's been going on with my life, even though we haven't seen each other for a while.
He said that my writing's improved and that makes me grateful (with the exception of this entry because I'm severely sleep-deprived. Even as I read the previous paragraphs, I found that it flowed in a choppy way). I sent a mass email out to my friends about this blog, the ones who I want to share this with because I found that so many of them were unaware that I had a blog. I feel that once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen, good or bad. That's what's so frightening, powerful, and exhilarating about it.
It's incredible how what we believe can easily manifest into reality. While we feel so helpless a lot of the time, it's the smallest thoughts that make the biggest impact in our lives. All I kept thinking was how my friend had his world of opera, while I was just a piece of speck. I don't feel like I have a world I can call my own, and I don't have a concentration of people showing me their support and encouraging me in the way people came together for him. That's why I think sharing my blog was good for me because I'm giving people an opportunity to see my work before I deduce that no one's interested in it. How can people give me their opinion of something they don't even know exists?
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