Where do you get your energy?
Music streams from my Sonos, every morning now. Tuned to WPKN, arguably ‘the greatest radio station on the planet’, or so reports The New Yorker. Music from Bali, Korea, Thailand pours out of two relatively small speakers set across the kitchen from where I sit. This. My ritual. My quiet time. My bridge to the creative life I explore.
I learn that in 1906, as Dutch Colonials invade Bali, the people on the island melt all the metal of their instruments to keep them out of the hands of their occupiers. Listening to Javanese Gamelan reminds me of college days at Wesleyan, of the occasional twenty-four-hour concert artists performed on these remarkable instruments. With this particular music, I see myself back in the art center wrapped in strange new sounds — me centered on trying desperately to be centered, and essentially failing, unable to sit still for any length of time. Too young. Too stupid. Too ADD.
When tuning in this morning, first sun after winter solstice’s longest night, I can’t help but think of The Beatles trip and foray into the new sounds of India, which later found way into their music. Sgt Peppers and Magical Mystery Tour play in my head, Mary and I coming off taking in Get Back, the seven-plus hour trip into the strained relationships of the band, their trials, the inner workings of a once in a generation creative process. I come away sad, wishing they’d played one final concert in front of adoring fans. Sad that Mary and I now have to find a next show to stream. Being with these four like being with family — joyful, sometimes painful, worth it.
In the middle of all of this, someone asks me, “where do you get your energy from?” A question posed during a conversation about creativity, about how to take my writing and photography more seriously, how to embrace creative production like what I’ve just witnessed. Energy, not inspiration the question. Where do I get my energy? I think this more Zen, less obvious. Energy a question about human existence, inspiration more a question of productivity.
“Writing for sure, I do find energy in writing, but also in interacting with people,” my answer.
Yes, definitely. I feel a lift from writing, a bounce when drafting and posting, especially on those lucky days when tapping into my heart. Still, such a good question. One that forces me to ask if I can see myself as a writer, tucked away in solitary pursuit of something so intangible, butt in seat, day after day, word after word, alone. I’m suddenly having to think, can I? Will I? Some born to be with people, others on their own. A lucky few able to create balance.
The question, now asked, lodges in my consciousness, repeating itself over and over again. Asking if I know who I am.
We spend our lives trying to figure this out — who we are, what we love. The answer quite often right in front of us, ruby slippers not needed. Will this be another one of those moments? Like something a teacher or parent said to us when we were fifteen? A challenge or prod that changed our lives?
WPKN’s wonderfully interesting music accompanies me on this adventure, next song unknown, life streaming from greatest radio station on the planet.
