Lowering My Expectations

What is happiness?

It's a complicated question if you think about it.  We've all thought about it at one time or another.

Ironically, the times we think the least on it, are probably when we're the happiest?  But then again, I don't know—the older I get, the more I realize I don't know anything.  I'm just throwing spaghetti at the wall like everyone else around me.

However, I have caught myself expecting way too much, too often.

Simple things.  Like, if I buy expensive things such as Air Conditioners, Sub Woofers, Guitar Pedals—can they not break?  It ridiculous to think that they won't.  Of course they are going to break, and they are going to do it when I am hurting for money and can not afford to replace them.

It almost becomes a mental focus exercise regarding what to pay more attention to: the things that make one sad, or the things that make one happy.  The seemingly level-headed person will immediately say something full of wisdom like, "focus on the positives rather than focus on the negatives."  I say, most likely, that the person who says that cries alone in their bedroom, or in their car, from time to time too.

No.  Maybe I need to lower my expectations.

I released a new single called GONE on June 12th.  I have sold two copies of it digitally.  It's two more than I was expecting to sell.  The song has been streamed on Spotify 15 times.  That is 15 more times than what I was expecting.  

This is a start.  I'll keep you posted.  Or, then again, maybe I won't, so that it isn't on the forefront of my mind.  

Whatever the case may be, I am making and releasing more stuff.  I'm 39 years old and I have no plans to stop making music or to stop trying to find people that like what I make.  You can count on that.

I'm happiest when I'm working hard, regardless of my expectations—and I am so grateful and thankful for my good health and to have you.  Deeply and truly.  Now, off to promote for a show tonight.  Take care. 

Plan B?

I am currently sitting outside and writing this on the patio in front of the rented space that I call my home.  I was working on writing something else but now I'm writing this.  I was enjoying a cup of coffee as I often do every morning. 

I just went to reach for my coffee mug, but stopped mid reach because a bee has just landed on the table right next to the handle of my coffee mug.  I'm starring at it right now. 

It sits there motionless, with what appears to be no immediate intentions of moving.  I wonder what it is thinking.  It doesn't appear to have any ill will towards me, and I too have no ill will towards it.  I imagine that it has no desire to cause me any harm, nor do I to it.  So, here I sit, continuing to write and express myself while it lightly brushes its wings and does the secret beautiful things that bees do when you have the opportunity watch one up close like this.  After all, for whatever reason, it flew to this table where I am sitting and decided to land by my enormous green Rainforest Cafe coffee mug.  However, I don't want to be stung simply because I desire another sip of coffee, so I'm waiting and continuing to type away on my iPad.  Well, no intention of leaving still, so I begin to appreciate it for its subtle parallels to life and just as I do that, it flies away to continue its busy day of bee things.  

I take a big rewarding sip of my coffee and I can't help but think back to a few weeks ago when something remotely similar happened, but we both reacted to each other in a completely different manner: the results however were just the same; the bee flew away.  I was sitting outside and writing just as I am now, and a bee landed on the table next to my drink, however, on this occasion, it took flight and decided instead to fly around me cyclically, repeatedly, and eventually landed right on my shirt. 

I remained motionless and let it do its bee things that only bees know, for about 5 or 10 minutes, and I could feel myself growing impatient.  I had things to do, but I didn't feel comfortable returning to them with a bee on my shirt.  

I started feeling resentment towards the bee for taking its sweet ass time doing whatever the hell it was doing.  It eventually launched into the air again, only to continue to fly around me.  I sat there trying to remain calm, but this time, it was flying closer to my face and I could hear it's buzzing wings as it continued to make its rounds. 

At this point, I freaked out and jumped from my chair and tried to distance myself from the bee as I had no clue as to what its intentions were and I didn't want to be stung.  I ended up running over to the opposite side of the patio and it followed me there, continuing to find interest in me and fly around me half hazard.  I didn't want to hurt the bee so I had no choice but to once again remain perfectly still and let the bee do its bee stuff.  

It flew over to the opposite end of the patio and buzzed around something else for a little while.  It landed.  It flew away.  It came back and flew around me some more.  I remained motionless and watched. 

No sooner did I decide to return to a state of calm, than it decided to fly away.  I wonder what it was thinking?  Did I look like a flower?  Was I a layover from its busy day of work doing bee stuff?  What attracted it to me in the first place?  I will never know for sure, but I can't help but be curious; it's the way I've always been.