A Moment Defined (Vol.1)

This time last year, I had just rejected an extension to my employment contract after two long years at the same company. It was a decision I didn’t make lightly. Although the work was frustrating and change seemed impossible there, it was a comfortable job with great benefits (not so much the remuneration).

When I came into the job, it was off the back of feeling like a failure leaving the job before. Caveat to this, I must mention that when I look back now, three years on, I no longer believe myself to have failed, rather I achieved as much as I could despite the barriers outside of my control.

So feeling like a failure, for the second time in two jobs, I started in a role I was barely qualified for. Responsible for more than I’d ever been responsible for before, unsure of my knowledge and capability, I was at a point doubting that I was ever capable of succeeding in my field. But over the space of 2 years, I had the leader that I needed. One who was willing to be strong at the right times, and trusted me to make mistakes and learn from them. 24 months of being empowered proved to be everything I needed. And so I reached a point where I could learn no more from that leader. We had reached the max of what could be achieved in that dynamic.

With that in tow, I turned down the extension. I left that employer with nowhere to go, but not empty-handed. I entered a difficult labour market with 2 years more experience and all the confidence that I could hold. I was employable, at the very least. But I wasn’t just looking for employment. i wanted somewhere that I could make a difference, somewhere that I could feel the culture just through the recruitment process, which had the right pieces of the puzzle in the right places.

But two months without a job and multiple interviews each week without finding that place hits that confidence like a sack of sh…eets.

Thankfully I found the place I was looking for shortly after that two month mark, and almost a year on, I’m still very happy and optimistic. But this is a short story of defining moments, and whilst there have been a number of defining moments in my life, today is appreciates this one.

Back yourself. Sometimes in life we need to jump into the dark and trust our instincts (based on fact). At times, hindsight will help us to regret these decisions, but even with that, we know we made the decision for the right reason.

Guise.

City Street

You lay beneath the feet of man,

The condescending  hierarchy.

Imposed as though inadequacy.

To be so boldly vilified, 

And publicised, 

In view of many stoney eyes.

Know not what brought you to this point,

There is no room for simple thought, 

And so I stand and condescend, 

I have no choice my Stoney friend. 

Visions seen before my time,

Too great for one within the hour.

I am but man. 


Guise. 

Day Dreaming

Gazing out upon a setting summer sky, 

Shades of gold uncherished by the human eye;

Streaking clouds in lines, 

Washed upon the abyss like the sea’s shore. 


A fascination from early teens,

An inspiration,

A creative means;

I’ve lived a life gazing upon heavens floor. 

Memories shared with those dear,

Imagining life in pillows imperfect. 

A face, a shape, a song and story,

Meaning undefined, in simple glory. 


Even though the shades of gold, the pillows billowing and stories untold;

Despite the fact that science holds,

A meaning for this sight is known,

The clouds and sky remain in mind,

A sight and song, dearly I hold. 

Eternity

Forever is a long time. We often find it hard enough to commit to a gym or a new phone contract, yet without even some opportunity to partake in the decision, we are born into existence. This eternal, ambiguous existence. 

So we forgive the universe for forcing this existence upon us, often times praising it, and we get on learning, growing, interacting, sharing, loving, and being. We just learn how to live, and ignore the impending threat of eternity. 

With this we accept that we have meaning to find in this small fragment of eternity which we call life. We often then flounder and procrastinate, consuming a cocktail of low self-worth and high insecurity with a dash of self doubt. Until one of two things happen; we either decide what we are going to take from this world after a nearly cathartic experience, or, this existence places a jigsaw piece in front of you which makes the puzzle all make sense. 

For me, I saw her and finally understood all that I was and I all that I could be. I had a reason, a direction, all guided by a hundred little butterflies. I soon recognised that my direction is a life in dedication to love and knowledge. 

But only if it meant spending eternity by her side. 

Guise. 

False

This life, it gives and takes,

Indiscriminately, 

And often we as people follow suit.


We fight and claw,

For what we want, 

And pray the heavens in our favour, 

Cursing that they may not favour others. 


We are sick, in our consumption, 

And our resolute defiance,

Of odds and ends,

But are so in natural selection. 


No matter our intentions, 

Our objective is a selfish one,

For glory, wealth, or recognition, 

There is no purity of any actions. 


“But we have a pure heart”, or,

“that wasn’t out intent”. 

We tell ourselves these lies, and feed our righteousness. 

But if these were so true, 

And we were pure and generous,

Why then do we give and take,

Just so indiscriminately

Journey to the Centre of My Writing 

Inspiration is a fickle,  inconvenient bitch. It comes when you can’t use it, and is a hide-and-seek champion when you go looking for it.

It has been elusive in my life, as I’ve pursued it, to use it. to fuel my mind as I dip and dodge writer’s block. I’ve always relied on inspiration for content. Maybe it is the euphoric release when you complete something fueled purely by raw inspiration, versus forcing it through solely with motivation and/or the guilt of wasting talent. maybe it is laziness, or perhaps it’s even a willingness to embrace easier distractions. I’d hate to believe it’s the latter, but internally it strikes a chord. let’s come back to that…

There have always been two clear factors to my writing, or capacity to do so

  • Inspiration – this is like that first mouthful of soft-drink on a hot, Australian summer day after spending hours out in the sun. It is the smell of freshly ground coffee, or the shiver of a cool breeze as you gaze upon the stars in the countryside. maybe even the first GTL after a long week at work. Unrefined, unaltered, unquestioned fuel, combusting efficiently without expending barely any energy.
  • Motivation – the drive, the chase, or the reason. It is the hunger that pushes you to achieve a goal. It is the self-control to just sit and do, whether that be to write or otherwise.

And so, the question looms, “Why is inspiration so important?”. Does one require the other, or may they exist exclusively of the other? I suppose the answer must be yes. I may write with either just inspiration or just motivation, however,  the products of each should be inexplicably different. A piece without inspiration will exist, but like without heart. It will read factually but be missing the emotional connection that the writer can tie into text and paper. A piece without motivation will exist, but may be missing coherency, simplicity, or a clearly defined point. So with this exists the duality of writing. Inspiration and motivation is my formula. If I could bottle it, I would.

I’ve spent my life chasing inspiration and struggling with motivation. Lighting a fire under inspiration is something I’ve always left up to chance, and conveniently hidden behind when I’ve lacked the self-control to remain motivated. It has been easier to succumb to easier distractions, than to try and build a fire, and patiently sit by it as the flames grow and the meat reaches well-done.

With this I pledge to myself to spend as much energy as possible to beat distractions. To overcome fear of acceptance, of failure and of judgement.

I hope this piece continues to light my fire, or perhaps is the spark to yours. That this cathartic self-dialogue serves some greater purpose, to pay it forward, as a wise man has done for me.

Guise