There's a tiny little gnome inside my head who's trying to bust his way out with a sledgehammer. I wish he'd stop, move on, and find something else to do. But he won't and it's my fault that he's here.
I drank too much vodka last night.
I don't often over medicate with alcohol, but when I do, I do it up right. I have to go and drum today, and I have to take the gnome and his pointy hat and his sledgehammer with me.
He will no doubt pound along with the rhythms that I play. He'll probably hang out all day long and laugh at the Tylenol I've taken. And he'll remind me over and over again that I did this to myself by trying to escape my feelings.
I'm not perfect. I am, however, the guy who wrote a well received essay on how to manage the pain of a breakup. That article helped me and a lot of other people. Sometimes though, I'm not so good at taking my own advice.
So, I have to carry the gnome with me today. Had I skipped the vodka, I would have just carried some anxiety and maybe some depression. Now, I carry anxiety, some depression, the gnome, and regret.
I remember in The Empire Strikes Back when Yoda was training Luke on Dagobah and Luke asked what was in that dark, ominous cave that Yoda was telling him to enter.
“Only what you take with you,” said Yoda. Of course, Luke took his weapons even after Yoda told him he wouldn't need them. Luke was sometimes a crappy student.
I think most of life is like that. We only really have to deal with what we carry with us. I could've carried my anxiety with me. I could've carried it like a cold or a virus, some joint pain, or a heavy bag of books and made it through my day. Maybe I would have carried some loneliness or depression or the missing of someone gone from my life and living so far away. Maybe not.
Maybe the feelings of last night would've passed and I'd be distracted by something else today or even feeling just fine. But, I don't know. I have to carry the headache and whatever else is the result of making a poor choice when dealing with some very uncomfortable feelings.
I could've have just been present and accepted the way I felt, knowing that those feelings would eventually morph and change, or even move on leaving room for other experiences.
Someone once said to me, “There's no could've or should've or would've–only what is. Move on from here.”
That's good advice. Me and the gnome are going to pack the drums now. And we're going to leave the vodka in the freezer.
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