Let's Get Retarded

Today I was very unhappy and confused.  I wasn't sure I was making progress anymore.  I couldn't feel my Self burning inside.  I wasn't sure if my old tendencies were taking over again: workaholism, perfectionism.  

At lunchtime I went outside into the sun and went to my favorite cafe.  My legs just guided me there - I didn't really think about it.  I ate and then started trying to contact God.  I asked, "What should I do now?"  Nothing.  I tried again.  Sometimes it is a matter of formulating the right question.  "Am I still making progress?"  Still nothing.  "Should I try to write?  Is this going anywhere?"  Not a pin drop.

I tried building a wall around my eyes with my hands, so I could really focus, and I tried again.  "Where are you, God?  Are you still with me?  What I am I supposed to do now?"  I waited and got no response.

In the past when I haven't gotten a response from God, it's sometimes been a sign that I'm supposed to just try this one alone.  It's a message that I don't need help at that very moment.  So I asked, "Am I supposed to write without you?"  

This thought was so terrifying that I immediately teared up and felt fear leap into my throat.  "I really need you for this one, God!" I said.  "Don't abandon me!  I really can't do this one alone!"

And that was when I finally, finally got a response.  It was a gentle response, slightly reproving.

"Why should I talk to you," God said, "when you're not taking care of yourself?"  

Fair enough.  I hadn't exercised in a week, I was exhausted and sick.

 

I felt something like a gentle poke. "Go and exercise," God said, "and THEN I'll talk to you."

"Okay," I said.  "I'll go today.  But I expect to see you there."

At 5:30, I left work and headed for the gym across the plaza from my office.  I got on the elliptical machine, turned on my iPod shuffle, and started to do my thing.  About 20 minutes into my workout, God showed up.

Or more specifically, the song "Let's Get Retarded" started playing.  Say what you will about this song --  I have always loved it.  That busy bass line!  That decisive guitar!  The total offensiveness of the lyrics!  Fantastic.  But something different happened this time.  I actually listened to the words.

And here, my friends, is what I heard:

We got five minutes for us to disconnect

From all intellect and let the rhythm affect

That got my attention.  Isn't it my hungry, problem-solving intellect -- my left brain, for "A Whole New Mind" fans -- that loves to analyze my writing and find defects?  Wouldn't it be better if I could "disconnect" it somehow, just long enough to get something down?

The Black-Eyed Peas went on:

Don't move too fast, people, just take it slow

Don't get ahead

Just jump into it

Okay, okay.  This was making sense too.  Sometimes I feel paralyzed by all the big leaps I se in my future.  For instance, if I want to apply for an MFA program, I need a good writing sample and recommendations, which means I need to take a bunch of writing classes, which means I need to STEP ON THE GAS and GET WRITING.  Naturally, this kind of pressure makes me freeze and write nothing at all.  It would make sense to just focus on what I can do in the space of one day.

As if this weren't enough fine advice, the Peas continued:

Get started

Get stupid

Don't worry about it, people, we'll walk you through it

Step by step like an infant, new kid

Inch by inch with a new solution

Transmit hits with no delusion

The feeling's irresistible and that's how we move it

Okay, so this actually sounded like God talking to me through the Black Eyed Peas while I worked away on the elliptical machine.  The message I heard: 

Get started

Don't overthink it

I'll help you as if you're my own child.

I guarantee we'll solve your problems at every step

and you'll find the clarity to write something true.

It is inevitable.

At this point, I held up my towel to my face and started bawling, but I caught it fast and coughed loud so no one would hear me cry.  Then I listened to the song about four more times and thought how strange it was that "Let's Get Retarded" was my new anthem.  Then I resolved to write about this tonight in a new blog, because the whole thing was so strange and miraculous.  And here we are now.  I enjoyed writing this.

For those of you who, like me, are recovering from a creative block and dying to make something but are afraid of what will (or won't) come out, I'll leave you with final bit of wisdom from the Peas:  

"So, come dumb now, do not correct it."  

Let's get retarded, friends.