Beer Gut Enlightenment

The Power of Influence:

For the past six months or year, I have made some fairly drastic changes in my life. I rarely drink anymore, I eat mildly healthy for someone who still has a fairly decent muffin top thing going on, I work out a lot. Again, one can’t really tell that based on the spare tire that is wrapped around my waist, but as the great Theo Von once said, “nothing changes if nothing changes.” So, gosh darn it, Bob Dylan was right: The Times They Are A-Changin’. I’m fixin’ to roll with those so-called changing times.

As anyone who knows me, I haven’t been the most extraverted person, but even more lately, I have become even more of an introvert. Yes, I still go out and do things, but the biggest reason for being more introverted is to continue to work on my writing (which needs a lot, I mean A LOT of work) and other hobbies that I have or would like to have. In reality, I see myself as more of an ambivert. If you don’t know what that is, look it up. However, the way I describe an ambivert and why I think it is so fitting for me is that an ambivert is someone who enjoys people…until people start acting like people. Suddenly, talking to myself, my hobbies, and my quiet room feels like a massive upgrade, and I come to the realization that solitude isn’t loneliness, it’s relief.

I get an enormous amount of shit from a lot of people for how much time I like to spend by myself. I don’t know why it bothers so many people. The way I spend my time has little to no impact on someone else’s life, so what’s all the shit about? Fuck if I know, but I have too many other things to worry about than why it bothers people how much solitude I like for myself.

I know, in some ways, that might make me look like an introverted, unapproachable twat knot, but I’m really not, or at least I don’t see myself that way. I do know that I am a little weird and awkward, but I do think I am enjoyable to be around, and I do like to have a good time in whatever I am doing. That being said, solitude is necessary to recharge, not only the big thing between my ears (no, not my hair or my beard, you can ask my wife about that), but also my body, soul (if a soul exists), my perspectives, and overall well-being. For me, it is a necessity so I can try to be the best version of myself.

Shit yes, there are days I slip up, and I am certainly not the best version of myself, but we all can’t wake up and piss excellence every day. When those moments come up, those days where I am not the best version of myself, those days where the unfortunate little aspects of life make it, at times, unbearable, I have to do something that I guess most people do. I have to try and find an influence, something or someone that will push me through the hard times and help me remember the good, and that even though my life isn’t where I want it to be, it’s not all that bad. In fact, for the most part, it’s pretty god damn good.

These influences help me try not to underestimate my value to the world. What that value is, the jury is still out, and it’s become pretty clear that it’s a work in progress, and probably will be for whatever time I have left on this large floating rock. However, trying to figure that value out has been quite fucking enjoyable.

That being said, even if it takes me until the universe clocks out, I’m going to keep searching for that value. I’ll try, I’ll fail, and I’ll make mistakes until I figure it out, that is, if I figure it out at all. But if someone has any bright insights into what that value might be while I’m out here stumbling through it, drop me a line and help me figure out which path I should be taking, or at least which one will make for a better story later. As briefly mentioned before, I am going to keep searching for my value in this life, and to do that, I do rely on influences. Lately, one of the greatest influences I have come across over the past six months or year has been an author by the name of Steven Pressfield. I wish I had heard about him sooner in my life, but I am thankful that I have finally found him.

Steven Pressfield is a fiction writer, but he also does some non-fiction as well. What I find fairly remarkable about him is that he was 52 years old when his first novel got published, which was The Legend of Bagger Vance, later turned into a movie of the same name.

At some point in my life I will read his fiction work. However, it has been his non-fiction work that has grabbed me with a choke hold and won’t let go. In particular, it has been his book The War of Art. I think technically it is considered somewhat of a self-help book, which is about 10,000% something I wouldn’t be interested in. However, after hearing so much about it, and how it is a short, easy read and how much it has helped transform people and the way they think, I thought to myself, “listen here, you value bundle of poor decisions, why not at least give it a try and see what happens.” Holy shit! I am glad I, for once in my life, decided to listen to my gut, or what I like to refer to as my physical manifestation of “just one more.” I now know why I have been hearing so much about this book. It’s fucking incredible!

Although, like I said, it is probably considered a self-help book. The way I would describe The War of Art is: It's a book about the invisible force that quietly ruins everything you say you want to do, and the uncomfortable realization it doesn’t need a name or a face, because it’s been sitting in your chair the whole time. Essentially, we are all our own worst enemy, and all of our self-doubt and self-sabotage is probably one of the biggest reasons we all fail to fulfill something, or even worse, not even fucking try in the first place. We are our own biggest limiting factor, as to why we don’t do the things we all say we are going to do. Sure, I am not ignorant to the fact that sometimes life and shit simply happens that will hinder or get in the way of certain things we are chasing. However, in the grand scheme of it all, the majority of the time we don’t accomplish something, it’s because we get in our own way and self-sabotage ourselves into failure.

I’m not sure why at this point in my life this book, pardon the cliché, fell in my lap, but it was the moment my bullshit stopped being convincing, even to me. I realized the problem wasn’t complicated, I’d just been avoiding it with a level of commitment that would’ve been impressive if it weren’t so misplaced. Essentially, I had an epiphany moment, where I finally realized that when looking at what I want to try and accomplish, or hobbies that I want to start, or whatever in the shit I want to do, the worst thing I could do is not try. I mean, I still have crippling insecurities and an enormous amount of self-doubt, but thankfully, because of The War of Art, I am learning to get out of my own head and do more of the things I want to do without thinking as much about what if I fail, or I am not good enough. None of that shit really bothers me as much anymore. I am not guaranteed that I am going to wake up tomorrow, so where is the harm in trying and chasing what you want in life?

Now, I am beyond grateful for this book and how it has impacted my life. If I ever had to sit and have a conversation with Steven Pressfield, I would tell him the same thing. I have not always been one who believes in things like “wow, that drastically changed my life!” Well, smack my ass and color me surprised, because The War of Art has definitely changed my life. It has drastically decreased my self-sabotage and self-doubt, but even though I am just starting this writing thing, it has drastically increased my confidence. That shit, maybe I really am not so bad at this thing.

You see, throughout my life there have been people who have told me that I was a decent writer, or that I was funny, or well, actually, that’s about it. However, the more I keep doing this, my confidence in my writing is going up slightly, and that is because I got out of my one goddamn way and started letting people read some of the words I put down. For the longest time, I would write here and there and simply throw it away because I never thought it was good enough, or that nobody would ever want to read anything that I had to say.

But I read The War of Art, then I started reading more, and writing a lot more. I can’t exactly remember what I wrote, but I let someone read it, which was already a huge leap of faith for me. After they read it, I received some fairly good feedback, and I thought to myself, just like the character Miles Dalby in Risky Business said, “sometimes you gotta say ‘what the fuck’ and make your move.” So I did. I started writing every day, putting ideas down, and then I took a bigger leap of faith and started this website. Not sure at all if or how many people read it, and to be frank, I don’t really care, because it’s for me and my way of getting out of my own head. Now, if people read it, even better, and maybe over time it might pick up. If not, that’s groovy too. Again, it’s for me, a way to get out of my head and put ideas down.

Now, there is so much more to it than getting out of your own way. Another large takeaway I got from The War of Art is sacrifice and doing the work. Like how I started this, the last six months or year of my life I have made several sacrifices to get even where I am today. I have also learned that nothing is free. It might not cost money, but it will cost you your time doing the work. Do I really want to be here on a Sunday afternoon, writing? Well, actually yes, I do. I really, regardless of how good, bad, or indifferent my writing is, really enjoy the shit out of it. That being said, there are days where I don’t want to write, in fact, there are days where I don’t want to do anything. Even on the days I don’t want to sit and write for a couple of hours, I still write a little bit. It might be jotting notes down in my phone or on a scrap piece of paper. It might simply be a few words or a couple of sentences, but at least I am writing every day. That is what I have been influenced to do.

Am I meant to be a writer? Who fucking knows. But I enjoy it. Actually, I haven’t enjoyed something this much in a hot minute, and even on the days I am at work, I might get lost in thought for 10–15 minutes simply thinking about writing and how I would rather be doing that than, well, a lot of other shit. I enjoy it to the point that, unless I have other obligations, on my lunch break, I take my computer and write, just to get the reps in. It’s probably hot garbage wrapped in a dumpster fire, but it’s all about doing the work, making some sacrifices, and, to repeat myself, getting the reps in.

As I sit here, trying to think of how to end this, my mind begins to wander. I ask myself, “have you ever bought into the idea of influences before now?” I don’t know. If I have, there aren’t any that come to mind. I have always, in a way, done what I wanted and marched to the beat of my own drummer. It never really kept a steady beat, but we marched on regardless. Even as I am writing this, I can’t at this moment think of anyone or anything that has been a “big” influence. Sure, I enjoy things and people, but I really can’t think of any major influences that have shaped or course-corrected my life in the way that Steven Pressfield and The War of Art have. Maybe there is a reason for that, maybe there isn’t. I think there is some poetic beauty in the unknown, so I am content with the fact that I probably won’t know why this happened and is happening now. Maybe there is something in the universe that decided for me that now is the right time to be influenced. Whatever the reason, I’m glad it happened, and I am enjoying the shit out of this creative process.

Now, I am not very religious, so I am not standing here on a pulpit to preach. That would be against the grain, even for someone like me. All I am saying is, widen your vision, change your perspective, get out of your own way, put in the work, and don’t deprive the world of, well, you. Take some time, look around, and find what or who will influence you. It’s remarkably powerful, and you never know, it might be the nudge you need to make your life slightly more interesting than it was yesterday, and even more interesting tomorrow. Besides, what’s the worst thing that happens? You make a mistake? Oh shit. Like you’ve never made one of those before! You never know, even in the process of making mistakes, you might find the thing that brings you joy and could make your life truly spectacular!

Until we meet again in the Dark Necessities of life. Cheers!