Happy 2020.
I’ve been wanting to do a little writing for a little while now, I just haven’t quite had the energy to jump in. I knew I wanted to write on this topic at this time to, in some ways put a period on a chapter in my life that I feel like is closing. I have just gotten over the flu that 2020 graciously gave me and today is the first day it doesn’t feel like my brain is being cooked on both sides, so I am happy happy.
At risk of being cliche and a little sappy, I will admit… I love the new year. Yeah I know, you can change anytime yadda yadda start today blah blah don’t wait for the new year yah yah yah… yes! All that is good… But I actually really enjoy the collective hope that seems to fill the community even if just for a brief moment whenever a new year occurs. I mean, c’mon, you can’t feel it too? It’s like everything does start over in some weird way. At least it feels that way to me.
This is always a sobering time, a moment to reflect on the previous year, to see all that went well and all that could have gone better and to regain a **cue the cheese* thankfulness for life itself.
At the top of 2019 I wrote a blog called “Taking Off The Band-Aids” about refusing cheap and temporary fixes. It was a challenge to myself to leave old addictions and comforts that were only acting as band-aids for my wounds - a challenge to commit to the slow hard work of healing, and to not take the easy way out of my pain. I haven’t thought much of that post since last January but now a year later I’m thinking about it and wondering, “did I actually commit to that idea in a deeper way this year?” Like, “Did I actually do what I wrote about?” And the scary thing to admit is honestly… yes and no. While conquering some addictions I only discovered new ones, and by finding healing in one area, I only opened up other deeper wounds hidden beneath the surface. This can seem like some cruel and unusual joke but… it is life. There is always more to learn, and we will never arrive. I think this is part of what it means when we use the word depth. But anyways, here’s my take on the year and the word I’ve found to embody its lesson.
In 2019 I produced a bunch of records, finished my own full length record “Never A Waste,” toured Germany with my original music, saw the Eiffel Tower, visited Seattle, went on tour with Will Reagan, travelled with Common Hymnal, and had countless joyous moments with friends. In the same year I burnt out on music, burnt out on producing, burnt out on people, burnt out on myself, battled a newly discovered anxiety, struggled relationally, lost touch with some of my core values and identity, wrestled with God.
I saw so much this year, on both sides of the coin.
The most jarring and probably the most important experience of 2019 for me, though, beyond anything to do with traveling, music, or “dream come true moments,” was this strange and eerie feeling of I can’t. I turned 26 this year, and for the first time, I was able to feel the subtle limits of age, time and life, begin to press in on the edges. In my early twenties, I saw everything as malleable. All the rules, all the designs of life, the things that said “you can’t do that.” All of those boundaries seemed like suggestions. In your early twenties, If you are lucky enough, you have virtually limitless energy, ample resources, the autonomy and the freedom to explore and take risks in virtually every area of life. I see this now, but I was so blessed to have had the opportunity to go to college where I did (Go Dawgs). It was like a playground for me. I dove deep into design, music, engineering, producing, film photography, relief printmaking, screen-printing, bookmaking, ministry… all these things. And at that time, I had the capacity to just do everything. Looking back, my energy level just baffles me now. I’d go to class, produce a song, and then work an a 2ft by 4ft watercolor painting on wood for the rest of the night, develop film, make prints, go to band practice, then go out with my friends after and do it all again the next day. Crazy. And in that environment, the thought “I can’t” never really crossed my mind. Not in a proud way, I just think that my environment was such a perfect incubator for me to explore all the things I was interested in, and in a beautiful way, I never thought to question the opportunity that was in front of me.
But this is the great shadow that I had to begin to look at in 2019. This was the year of realizing limits. It was a year of realizing that that 22 year old kid who had the energy and the capacity to do 30 things at once, couldn’t exist for much longer. I am seeing that most of the dreams I had for my life when I was 20 haven’t come true… and that in reality, most of them aren’t going to come true. As a “dreaming” generation, especially coming from privileged backgrounds, we tend to interact with our dreams as if they are owed to us. As if by having the courage to allow ourselves to want a dream, that we are entitled to see them come to fruition. I saw this begin to hurt my life in a lot of ways this year. For example, with music. In my mind, by 26 I’d be a world superstar by this point. I mean, it only makes sense right. God owes me this much at least. But what happens when you’re still making indie records and touring with your friends in your truck, driving 3 hours to play for 20 people, at the age where you thought in your dreams you would be playing stadiums? That expectation is going to kill you. I started viewing myself as “being behind” and just lost gratefulness for what really mattered: the opportunity to make music and to go on adventures with people I care about. I’m seeing that nothing in this life is promised and to just be happy about any good thing that comes my way.
2019 was also the first time in my life where I began to realize my physical limitations. I need to sleep now to function. It’s weird. I can’t eat McDonalds chicken nuggets anymore without having meat sweats for the next two days. My body has decided suddenly to hate alcohol and grease. I have to take care of what I allow into my body - physically, emotionally or spiritually. I’m not that strong. I am affected by these things, and it affects my life. I don’t have the energy I used to. I dealt with some health issues this year that were out of my control that made it nearly impossible to play music in front of people without wanting to pass out. This was so jarring. For the first time in my life, I simply couldn’t will myself to be stronger, to push through, and to be well again. Things were no longer that simple. I was learning quickly that life was not going to be as easy as “point to something you want and you will get it in the mail 2 days later.”
As someone with many aspirations and a long list of interests, learning the lesson of limits felt like a death sentence. I spent a lot of this year kicking and screaming, not wanting to yield to the inevitable… that time is moving. I am changing - my body, my mind, my priorities, my values - are all changing. I wanted to be 24 forever. But after a while, the shoe no longer fit, and I was forced to evolve, powerless against my life’s tide.
You may be feeling that you can’t be all that you wanted to be. What a terrifying thought to even entertain. But think about it. In every single area of our lives we fall short. We all wish we were better - a better friend, a better singer, a better writer, and better this, a better that - whatever it is for you. Maybe you thought you’d have a better job, a bigger house, or a more impressive life. But the truth is, we all have our limits, and we simply will not see everything that we dream of come to fruition. And I want to argue that this is ok. And not just ok, but an invitation to live with a deep purpose and meaning.
Sorry if this seems like a hopeless thought, I have found it to be quite the opposite. Learning to embrace my limitations and the inevitable death of some of my dreams has allowed me to refocus on what really matters. Love and relationships. I don’t know if I can explain it how I want to, but as this year has loosened my white knuckle grip on needing to get everything I want out of life, I’ve begun to see the beauty in the people and places God has given to me. Suddenly, everything has meaning because the dreams that were beyond the mundane have begun to disappear. I mean, this is my life happening here. And I don’t know if this is selling out, growing old, or just getting tired of constantly being let down by the notion of having “big dreams,” but everything feels more meaningful to me now. There’s not so much pressure now. I don’t have to me impressive. I don’t have to make a global impact. I don’t have to be superhuman. I just feel like I’m living a real life. When you come to terms with what you aren’t and what you can’t do, and make peace with the little space God gave you in this world, you realize the great power within what you are and what you can do. And that, is a life well lived.
I know it wasn’t a “2020 vision change the world this year” post, but it is the reality of my time. And wow, what a wonderful time.
Thanks for reading,
AB