I mentioned a few days ago in a note I posted here that I was experiencing trouble getting my mojo back. For the past few weeks, I’ve really been struggling to feel motivated to write (and to work). As I’ve run through my problem-solving process, I’ve realized that at the root of this mental stalemate is personal loss — something I don’t often write about in a public context.
Our lives, professional and personal, will experience many ups and downs over the, very short, number of years we are fortunate enough to walk this planet. I’m thankful that I have the perspective of being able to look back at several decades of my life — mining it for answers I need to gain perspective when I need to. There have been very few periods in my professional and personal life that have not been flush with challenges — each dovetailing with the other to create an interlocking history of complexity. But that’s life, right?
I’m thankful that I have the perspective of being able to look back at several decades of my life — mining it for answers I need to gain perspective when I need to.
Over the past 14 months, I’ve been watching two close friends die from brain cancer. Each developed a Glioblastoma within two weeks of one another. This type of cancer is very brutal in its progression — fast-moving, invasive, and often tied to a blood source. In both of these cases, my friends went through surgery to attempt to remove the tumor early on. During the operation, it was discovered that they were, indeed, tied to a blood source. In those cases, the SOP is to remove as much of the tumor as possible and then follow up with further treatment through ongoing chemotherapy and measurement of the tumor’s growth over time. The average life expectancy post-surgery is 9-14 months.
My friend Paul passed away earlier this week after making it roughly 14 months after his diagnosis. He was a husband, father, drummer, winemaker, and salesman.
My other friend James is hanging on, but we’re getting close. It’s hard to watch him deteriorate one week at a time. I’ve been visiting him at least once or twice a week for the past 14 months. We eat lunch together and talk about old times and shared experiences. It’s been valuable to be able to say the things I want to say to him. Over the past month, things have started moving faster. He’s become progressively non-verbal and the tumor has created stroke-like effects on the right half of his body. His quality of life is being drainedfdf from him one day at a time. At this point, there isn’t much more any of us can do but just wait.
James is a husband, father, 3D printer, model maker, and worked as a building manager for Honda. He is like the brother I never had, and I will miss him immensely.
Why all the sadness in this post? What’s the point I want to make?
Most of the time I talk about the need to develop the ability to keep moving forward. I talk about failure and pressure and stress, and how we can rise above them — turning them to our advantage. Ultimately, I believe how we face these challenges, is at the heart of our progress as a creative professional. There are other times, though, when that same logic and reframing skill just can’t fill the holes.
In those times it’s okay to let things be as they are. The ups and downs we face will include plenty of other types of upheaval — including personal failure, mourning, and loss. During those moments not knowing how to react or taking time to allow ourselves to slow down, process, and move forward is normal. It’s your life. It’s your time. Take it. YouTube will wait, social media will wait, your career will wait, your newsletter will wait, and your family and friends (if supportive) will wait. Your mental health is essential, and sometimes we all need to nurse it along a bit.
During those moments not knowing how to react or taking time to allow ourselves to slow down, process, and move forward is normal.
I was beating myself up for the past couple of weeks for not being as present as I could be for my family and for my work, but it’s time I’ve needed to just be. To sit quietly and reflect. What I realize is that I’m no good to my family or to my career if I’m weighed down with anxiety. So, I need to take the time needed to feel better.
We’re all racing around trying to get a leg up. We’re so consumed with our careers, family, social media, obligations, and whatever else we fill our days with that we often forget to take the time needed for our own mental well-being. The ability to get slow is valuable. I often ask my students to take some time over a weekend and just try sitting in one place and doing nothing for 10-15 minutes. It’s torture for them, and I know this. Yet, we have to develop the ability to be quiet and still and to really think about our lives from time to time.
The stresses of career, family, and social media often mean we forget to take care of ourselves mentally. During difficult times, it's okay to pause and let things just be as they are. By doing so, we give ourselves the space to nurture and strengthen our mental health.
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