Why I Stopped Pulling Out my Gray Hair

I'm not really sure, to tell you the truth.

I've been pulling them out since the first time I noticed having them. I was 20 then. So it's been 11 years.

Here's the thing: I don't really even have that many gray hairs, at this point. Which is why pulling them out seemed like the simplest mechanism for getting rid of them. I don't want to have them visible, but I don't want to dye my hair yet. And there is something kind of fun and satisfying about the yank. So long, sucker!

But, all this time, in the back of my mind, I'm doing this and knowing that it is an unsustainable solution to a growing, literally growing, problem. Because they grow back. And they grow in numbers. And eventually, if I keep doing this, I'm going to be plucking out my entire head of hair, and that's obviously not the intended result.

And when I see gray hairs on other people, I find it sexy, in a way, that they wear them. Because they're not trying to defy themselves.

My New Year's resolution was to do a daily meditation practice, which has been mostly a failure.

For some reason, starting with New Year's Day, I stopped pulling out my gray hairs. I didn't articulate this in any way. It wasn't my official resolution. I just did it. It's been a month now. You can see them growing out of my head no matter how I comb my hair. They're an inch long, at least.

I don't really care.

I was going to have to stop pulling them out eventually, right?

Is There a Space Between?

I came to New York with enough hope to classify me as deluded.

But I read The Secret. Visualize the life you want, and it will come to be. So I visualized my life. I was touring with my band. I was recording an album. I was living in New York City.

Fast forward a year and a half. I'm living in New York City. I'm recording an album. I'm not touring with my band, yet. 

I was convinced that if I just moved to NYC and gave it my all, I could make a living as a singer/songwriter here. Instead, I've made my living by some fortunate circumstances largely unrelated to music, that are not sustainable, and that I don't feel good about. I'm not even breaking even on my musical ventures, let alone making enough to support myself.

Where do I go from here? Do I just keep visualizing and believing?

And why am I so despondent about it? I know so many people, hundreds of people, talented people, that have not made it to "doing this for a living" status. In fact, I'm not even sure where I get off feeling like I deserve to do this for a living, when so many others have paid more dues than I and still don't.

And I know so many stories--Jonathan Larson, who wrote Rent, comes immediately to mind--of people who toiled in their creative pursuits for 10+ years before getting anywhere. He had the poor fortune to die right as he was about to break through into the wild success which became of Rent.

Larson died from a rare, undiagnosed, genetic medical condition. A simple procedure could have saved his life. I only wonder if it was his starving artist lifestyle that kept him from the routine medical care that might have diagnosed him and prevented his death.

No way to prove it, but it's a distinct possibility.

Maybe we do just live and die for our art. Perhaps scrambling through this existence to nurture the art and bring it to life is our only purpose. Even if it kills us.

I imagine Larson wouldn't have given up everything he did to make Rent successful, even knowing that it would lead to his early death.

Then again, there's no way to ask him.

And maybe there's a space in between? Somewhere between suffering for something and just surfing through life? A balance between sacrificing everything for your art and enjoying your precious, short time on earth?

Honestly, if you really want to be successful in art, I'm not sure there is.

Overcoming Fear Means Letting Yourself Be Afraid

Overcoming our fear doesn't mean convincing ourselves to stop being afraid of something so we can finally do the thing we're scared to do. It means doing something even though we may be afraid the whole time.

Overcoming our fear often means becoming even more afraid, because we are doing the scary thing, rather than avoiding it.

We are being with our fear, feeling our fear, while in motion with the very thing that makes us afraid.

We are not overcoming the feeling of fear, but rather, overcoming the feeling of being stuck in it. Once fear doesn't stop us, we can still be afraid of everything, but the fear doesn't hold us back. It accompanies us, but it doesn't control us.

So let us aim not to be fearless, but rather, full of fear while we move in the direction of its source. Because if we wait until we are fearless to do the thing we are afraid of, we may wait forever.