The Slump

Feeling good. Firing on all cylinders. Gettin’ it done. Boom-boom-boom!

<<splat!>> 

“What? No! Not now! Can’t you see how I’ve been slaying it? I’ve got stuff to do!” 

The Slump cares not.

Energy wanes. Colors turn to grey. Excitement evaporates. Hope disintegrates. Every small thing becomes a Herculean task. I am in a slump.  I am actually in a slump, in the middle of summer vacation. 

Self inventory: What am I doing wrong? What am I NOT doing? I double up on self-care—more breathing sessions, more cold showers, more meditation—I make myself trudge through workouts I don’t want to do. No improvement. I want a “a break” that will never come. 

Life event checklist: Well, I have my cardiac arrest anniversary coming up in two months—it’s a little early for that. Summer vacation is ending for the kids, and I’m on the tail end of a solid month of getting to bed a good two hours past when I’d like—that’s certainly not helping. There is the often heartbreaking journey of guiding a child into teenage-hood—but it shouldn’t take me down this low. I am working my way through a book on childhood trauma—is that it? I’m starting a Masters of Science degree in one month—that’s triggering some fear and uncertainty—but nothing is adding up to “TOTAL SLUMP.” Nothing is really going on that would logically have me feeling like I am not looking forward to anything—nothing that should have me feeling like I don’t want to get out of bed.

“Uh, you’re doing a lot,” a friend says. “No, I’m just…” Hmmmm. No wait, I am actually doing a lot, even though I feel like I’m doing nothing. Maybe this is just the inevitable existential angst of the post-(?) pandemic world. Maybe I’m just like this now. Or maybe I just have the time to feel right now. 

I turn to creativity—to making music. I have just recently put out an album of music, but I will have to lean on my long-trusted friend again. I will write the saddest song(s) that ever existed. Well—I will write honestly about what I’m feeling.  I will try to capture my feelings in sounds. I will take care of myself, and I will create. These songs are my journals, my trails of thought—documents of my recovery processes. I am writing the music I want to listen to. I am creating because I have to. 

Something is still not right. I have three unfinished blogs to work on. I have taken a month off of doing podcasts. I’m out of the groove.

So I sit down and write this. I write about what’s going on. The Slump. By the end of the day, I’ve written three blog articles, and set up the next podcast. 

The Slump loses its power, but then grows back like a nasty weed. 

A Life Coach friend of mine says to me, “I know it’s not always easy, but try and stay present—in the now.”

Aw crap. Yeah.  The old “Human Doing” vs. “Human Being.” 

So here I am, just feeling my feelings. Taking some deep breaths, being here for my kids, being here for my wife—being here for me—in the now.

It’s not always pretty. Take a deep belly breath with me, then take a look around. We’re ok.  Ever-changing, mercurial at times, but ok. 

I’m reminded of a quote from Bill Wilson about “trudging the road of happy destiny.” 

Yeah—trudging is ok.

—Scott