The Self-Doubt Cloud.

Some mornings you just wake up and not like yourself much. Some nights you cry yourself to sleep agonizing over everything about you that isn’t awesomesauce. Its human nature. We constantly play the comparison game, the what-if, the wish-I-wasn’t-a-weirdo, the what-the-heck-am-I-doing-and-why-is-there-no-freaking-instruction-manual…you know, that old chestnut. Fortunately for most, these self-doubt clouds are temporary and as quickly shifting as Melbourne weather (if you’re not from Melbourne we joke that we sometimes get all four seasons in one day!) but there are times when the weighty oppression of these vapour-pillows of not-so-yay are just exhausting.

It can be impossible at times not to compare yourself to your peers (off being fab, travelling away, making babies, trundling along with their life partner, living in the house they bought with their own money {uh, like, seriously, how!?}) and notice all the little flags of blah marking your way. I can’t speak for all the musicians out there but I definitely feel like we’re pretty hard on ourselves in this respect. Women, too, in general. {Though of course I’m not trying to generalise about one particular race, gender, age or vocation -- we all feel pain the same} I love being a musician, a performer, a teacher. It fills me with such joy and purpose but even so, it also cloaks me in suffocating doubt. I am fortunate enough to be surrounded by some seriously amazingly talented musical folks and that’s great, just sometimes, super bewildering and terrifying. I could live for one hundred years and never know everything there is to know about music (and that’s okay) but it’s still enough to occasionally rob me of enthusiasm, ambition and positivity. Particularly when there are so many impressionable kidlets looking to you as their instructor for guidance and knowledge. It’s what probs scares me most about potentially being a Mumsie one day; how do you show someone else how to human when you can’t even manage yourself half the time?

I realise these visiting doubt bouts (see what I did there?) are not unique to me but I certainly feel that I’ve spent my entire life battling them, and will continue to do so for a long time to come, I’m sure. Doubting my worth, my cleverness, my abilities, my attractiveness… but I’m not alone in that. Everyone doubts. Everyone. What’s tragic too is that despite this feeling being universal, it is often the cause of so much drama between people. Instead of this united plight facilitating empathy and compassion, it often does the opposite; doubts, insecurities and fears saddle our day-to-day interactions. We become defensive or seek to make the other person feel inferior, we behave selfishly or act without gratitude and grace. I know when I feel a cloud coming on I tend to try too hard, over-compensate and just become pathetically desperate to prove myself. I’m not saying everyone should be spouting sunshine and daisies all the time, but a little perspective and understanding can go a long way to making the world around you way more spesh. 

Experiencing Technical Difficulties.

There are a lot of things I like about living in the modern world (plenty I don’t, too, but that’s another blog post entirely) and the technological capabilities available to us is certainly a biggie. I love the ease with which I can create, develop, research, communicate, save, manage, retrieve, learn, connect, help, teach, experience and live. It allows me to share a little of myself with the world, whilst getting to know certain sides of those around me. The dichotomy that exists; sometimes the online and connected world can make you feel part of something on a grand scale whilst at other moments, lending perspective and making you aware of your own isolated, fragile identity. I value the immediacy with which I can communicate through this technological forum. I use a lot of social media but I also carry on a great deal of my correspondence via text, email and WeChat. (Don’t know that app? Well get on it. Now. Thank me later.) Technology helps me follow the going-ons of family interstate, advertise things I’m passionate about drawing attention to and facilitated one of my most enduring and vital friendships with my northern hemisphere way-more-than-an-ordinary-pen-pal-sitch girlie. I am grateful for technology for sure… but I also know I rely a little too much on its existence in my life. 

  

I realise of course the irony of this post; as I sit here, furiously typing away, ready to share and connect online through my blog and social media, utilising the wi-fi internet I feel so Neanderthal without.  I spent nearly two hours this morning trying to sort out issues with my iTunes/iPod and it still isn’t resolved. The level of frustration it elicited as it drew out through my otherwise leisurely Sunday morning was absurd. I’m beyond irritated because I can’t store my ridiculously large and ever-expanding music conveniently in one device that will enable me to respond to every musical-mood-whim that may possess me… and it isn’t an isolated incident. You should see the defeated sigh I give when I realise my battery is below 20% but I can’t be bothered going and plugging my phone in to charge! Or when someone calls me and the reception makes chit-chat impossible. Don’t even get me started on internet troubles… It’s like I forget how to human when the wi-fi is down. I would certainly be a very different teacher (Sibelius notation software I’m looking at you!) but it’s more than that, I can recall the time before the internet/smart-phone/social media explosion but I can’t imagine my future without it. I am saddened and scared by how dependent I am.

  

I live in the moment. I recognise magic around me in people, places, experiences and vocation. I don’t speak to people in public hidden behind my R2-D2 screen or block the world out with headphones. I am thankful I can communicate in real time with my nearest and dearest (in fact I will always delight in the memory of Nan’s face when she realised the “letter” we had sent my Uncle in France the night before already had a reply waiting for her) and keep myself updated on things that matter to me. I just wish I didn’t feel like such a petulant child when the technology I so fervently rely on inevitably stumbles and fails. What about you? What would you do without all this technology stuff?

Mad Hatter.

We are a society who wear many, many hats. I don’t mean decorative head-wear when I say this (I’m always dealing in extremes with hats on my head; either they look fab or they look dreadful, no in-between) rather, I’m referring to the different sides of ourselves. I know that personally I juggle a few various hats as Lyn, some getting more frequent wear than others.

The Educator

Such a versatile addition to any ensemble, this hat! Equal parts empathy, exhaustion, over-the-top-organisation, energy, politics, passion, frustration, patience, ambition, vocation and a smidge of insanity. 

The Pretending-To-Be-An-Adult

This one is still waaaay too big for me. Like, seriously, the brim is so wide I have trouble finding my way but even so, I own it and I do drag it out every now and then. If I’m lucky someday I’ll even grow into it… but I doubt it. 

The Delirious & Silly

Ah, this one is loud and raucous and absurd. Glary hues, exaggerated shapes and topped with some hilarious, entertaining but also high-voltage (and often excruciatingly annoying for those in the nearby vicinity) pom-poms. 

The Obsessive-Appreciator

So this one is totes my hipster hat; it shelters me with big nerdy ear-flaps that allow me to love stuff (film, TV, music, literature, anything!) without hearing a bad word said against them. It’s just one big emotional, inspirational, passionate train-wreck of a fan-bonnet.

The Crazy-Cat-Lady-Hermit

An old familiar beanie of mine. It’s a bit worse-for-wear and sometimes I wear it more than I probably should but it both comforts and rejuvenates me. Even though it smells a smidge funky and doesn’t do particularly well at playing with the other head-garments.

The list above only really names a few! I feel like I’m constantly battling myself; a bunch of hats fighting for prominence in my wardrobe. Occasionally I’ll try to wear more than one at once, the results either hysterical or disastrous. One thing is for sure though – I’ve gone through a lot of hats so far and will encounter many more, I expect… all of them are me. In some way, if even in the smallest way, they serve their purpose.

How many hats do you wear? Maybe it’s time to change up the rotation and put one away? Or buy a brand new fancy schmancy one?