Identity, ego, love, self-loathing, acceptance, validation, who would have thought just be yourself could be so damn complicated. Yet,  everyday we guide our students, our children, our friends to just be themselves and everything will be alright. Find your voice, express yourself, and all that other bullshit, when it reality, at least for me, everyday is much scarier than that.

I am a thirty six year old father of two beautiful girls, married to an amazing women who loves me more than I could ever imagine any one person could, I have a group of friends I have had since I was thirteen year olds, I have been living overseas- a dream of mine since childhood for over ten years doing work that I love, I have enough money to live a comfortable life, I go to bed every night awash in blessings I can never truly appreciate, I have hobbies that satiate my soul, my every experience is tainted with passion, and I ain’t bad lookin.’ I tell you all of this because despite this apparently successful life,  I am often scared and feel utterly alone. I lose myself in unsubstantiated anxiety and need to be reminded that I matter. I want my voice to be validated and be told that I am unique and special and important. Sometimes the feeling is so strong that I feel I could disappear completely if I don’t speak up. I am sure there is a medical term for this condition. I am sure there is a series of lectures at a great many yoga hall and Zendo to help me get through my attachment to my ego, but like most things in my life I am working through it on my own.

Do I reek of insecurity? Am I a shallow egomaniac? Perhaps, but I am willing to bet no matter how you play your mask in the grand stage of life you feel the same way. John Spencer once wrote, and I am paraphrasing here that: he is a good teacher because he is broken not despite it, and I couldn’t agree more. I am tired of acting like needing to be accepted and loved is a weakness.

My journey, like all human trips has had its ups and downs. I will not go into the details here, wait for the book, but one thing that has persistently stayed with me, my entire life has been me. Yup the ole ego, the desperate clinging to me, myself, and I. Various Zen texts and Yoga T-shirts have advised me to let go of the self to truly connect to the greater universe, but no matter how I try here I am again. A fragile little boy wondering whose body I am walking in now.

There was a time when I drown out his voice in alcohol and self-destruction. But after ten years+ of trying to silence the scrawny eight year old from my photo albums, I am proud to say he appears to have made it. These days I find it easier to listen to him when he speaks, or allow him to sing when he needs to, I encourage him to take over, you may have met him as he often Tweets. I ask his advice and let him father my children and teach my students. He doesn’t have all the answers and is often confounded by the simplest emotions, but he tries hard and seems to live life with an enthusiasm I sometimes find embarrassing. He is gaining confidence and is finding his voice, but he still likes to be told he is special. He likes it when people read his words and agree or disagree, he doesn’t care as long as he is heard. He likes it when people listen to his music or admire his photos. He likes it when people enter his head and look out through his eyes, because when they….. you, are in here it doesn’t feel so alone. And really do we need art for anything more than passageways into each others souls?

Don’t get me wrong!  I will do this, everything I do, because I have no choice. The voice inside my head simply needs escape; it has for as long as I can remember, but I am not embarrassed to admit that I like to be recognized, I need to be heard, I want to be loved. I want to blow up my ego to the point of not needing it anymore, but in the meantime an award saying that people value the randomness of my spirit and that it is relevant to them, or that my words have meaning in some small way in this vast lonely universe will be just fine.

I have so many more stories to share about this topic, but I will save them for the book. There has been much talk about awards, and pandering, and ego and validation, and….and….and….At the end of the day, all this award will prove is that I have the loudest echo in the chamber, or wait:

Will it somehow prove that a lone voice, different than all the rest, a voice of honest raw practicality, the voice of a true artist, a sage, a shaman if you will, has entered the conversation…..That must be my out of control ego again. Quick, let him hit publish and see how many retweets he gets, how many comments, how many votes he garners from this ploy. Wait he? Is that the little boy, my ego, is he me? Told you this is complicated

Talk amongst yourselves, we’ll be out on the stoop admiring the tree in front of the house. It brings us peace and quiets the noise in our head a few seconds every night.

This post is dedicated to the memory of Elliot Smith.