Breakthrough

I finished writing Tree. Today

I am writing Village. Today.

I didn’t finish Village today; it would be too ambitious to be true, which could drive me too high into danger. So I pause and reflect on what happened.

Tree is the first song that I finished writing. After 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023. 5 years of trying. (Not trying this specific song, but a few songs.) I suddenly feel it will be days, not years, before I finish Village.

For all those past years, I blamed my company for stopping me from writing music. It turns out that it was I who was afraid to write because it was uncomfortable and I couldn’t accept that discomfort. Work was a distraction to my writing. Online shopping was a distraction. YouTube was a distraction. Instagram. Cooking. Cleaning. Organizing documents. Measurement. Even reading. Even learning. I am not surprised that I kept finding new distractions as “things I need/have to do,” prioritized those things instead of writing music, and blamed not writing on “having to take care of a company”, or “having to take care of a family”.

There were a few things that helped me break out of this loop. (in the perspective of procrastination and productivity; we will talk about breakthrough of art in the future)

Oliver Burkeman, his series Time Management for Mortals in Waking Up app, and his book Four Thousand Weeks, the intro.

Todd, my new move-in neighbor across the street, a writer, who shared with me about The Office in Santa Monica, a quiet coworking space for writers. It’s a place where people get grumpy if I forget to turn off my ringer. I placed myself in The Office multiple times in my head, imagining that not fun not sexy, quiet space, me and a computer, and all of a sudden my name is on the award billboard. That’s writing.

Ruya. Many things about her. Kaynaktan, an indigenous dance festival in the forest, I could feel the soul of Tree and Village. She taught me to cartwheel on the sand last Sunday. I almost learned, but trying too hard, I fell splendidly on the sand; it was painful after a few days still, so I went to urgent care during a terrible time while I was switching out of terrible health insurance, and gladly, no bone was broken. I was then reminded about Camila, when she talked about how she asked kids to do cartwheels, and kids were like, “Cool,” and they just rolled forward, but adults could not do cartwheels because they were afraid to fall. Then I wondered why I could do cartwheels (willing to risk my bone) but couldn’t write songs. What is so adulting about writing songs than the stark willingness to risk my bones?

Again, Oliver Burkeman. The night before I went to bed falling asleep in Oliver Burkeman’s voice, I started a list of everything that I fear in my phone. The next day, which is today, the drive to check off that list like a classic OCD me catalyzed my courage to conquer them right away. It worked. A few long-standing not able to be completed tasks were suddenly done. And most strangely, I finished my song. Tree was done. Today. Not like perfection though, but I certainly didn’t break my bone.