I have a full life, and I truly love my full life. At the risk of bragging, I have a family that consists of a very supportive girlfriend and a teenage daughter that wants to spend time with me. If you have a teenage daughter, you know that’s rare. I have an amazing dog that teaches me life’s most simple and important lessons every day… I have a fantastic job that doesn’t interfere with my art-life… and my art life is growing constantly.
There is no part of my life that actively interferes with any other part of my life and if that’s not balance, then I don’t know what is. I realize that I have manifested this; or in a more traditional sense, I built it.
The word manifest; itself, comes from two root words:
Manus – the latin noun for ‘hand’
Festus – which comes from the latin adjective ‘infestus’ which is the root for words like ‘infestation’ and ‘festival’
… so it more or less translates to hand party… or ‘to put a lot of your own hands into something.’ You cannot really manifest anything by sitting around and wishing for it… you have to put thought into action.
That’s the long way around… but it means: I wanted this and I created it.
This was made all to clear to me on a recent phone call with an old friend I don’t see anywhere near enough, where he reminded me of a conversation we’d had in our early 20s about what we wanted our future to be. We’d both fantasized about perfecting our artistic crafts in a humble way, being shit-hot writers and performers who lived covertly normal lives. Essentially being a big deal to a niche market, so we could have modestly nice homes surrounded by good neighbors who had no idea who we really were. A secret identity of sorts.
He spent a few minutes pointing out to me that I have exactly that life – with a few variables augmented slightly – but still, it’s a conversation I won’t soon forget that has filled me with gratitude.
So although this life is full, and occasionally it exhausts me… it was put this way with thoughtful intention and I am extremely grateful for it.