My Black is NOT Cracking.

Where are my 70’s people?  There was a song by BT Express in the early 70’s called “Do it.”  (You know that period where all the best music was created!) Anyway, the first few lyrics were, “Ooh go on and do it. Do it. Do it til you’re satisfied.  Whatever it is, do it!  Do it til you’re satisfied.”  Later in the song it went, “Everybody knows what they like to do. Whatever it is, do it, ‘long as it pleases you. Just take some time and relax your mind, then DO IT, DO IT, DO IT til you’re satisfied.”  Life advice from BT Express.

Lately I’ve been feeling that quiet, but persistent itch of dissatisfaction. Not, exactly the dramatic, throw-a-chair-out-the-window kind. More like the kind that sits next to you every day whispering, “This can’t possibly be it.”

You know the feeling.

You wake up, do the things, check the boxes, repeat the routine, and somewhere deep inside there’s a voice clearing its throat like an impatient dinner guest. “Ahem!” At first you ignore it.  Which is pretty easy when the volume of every day life is there to distract you. There are plenty of distractions. But the voice doesn’t go away. If anything, it gets louder. It rises above all the BS noise.

Mine has started officially started shouting.  Typically, first thing in the AM, when it’s time to punch the clock, halfway through the day, and a few times while watching TV or when it’s time for quiet.  Oh, it is loud as hell around 11pm.

Apparently, my soul has decided it’s time for a major overhaul.

And naturally, it picked something I find mildly terrifying.

A podcast.

Now let me explain something. I would rather walk calmly and voluntarily in front of a firing squad than step onto a stage to speak publicly. (I often wonder if the sound of my voice annoys anyone more than it annoys me!) When I produced my play, at the end of the performance someone decided it would be a great idea to drag me onto the stage.  It was definitely not my idea. It also made no sense to me. I’ve been to plays. The writer or producer wasn’t dragged onto the stage. At least, I don’t recall seeing that.  

The audience had erupted in applause. At that point, I should have been thrilled. Instead I was terrified! I stood there smiling like a malfunctioning robot thinking, please let the stage floor open up and swallow me whole. I was profoundly uncomfortable.

Yet here I am, starting a podcast. Which is essentially talking into a microphone and releasing my voice into the world like an audio boomerang that may or may not come back and smack me in the head. (And you can ask my sister. Last thing I need is another head injury! She always threatens to get me a helmet!)

Now technically it’s not a stage. But my brain doesn’t know the difference.

Let me also point out that I can talk to strangers all day long. One-on-one? No problem. Two people? Fine. (Well, except when I used to hang out in NYC solo and couples would try to take me home. No judgement if you’re into that. I was NOT.) Three people? Now we’re entering suspicious territory.

But the real panic sets in when my brain jumps ahead.

What if the podcast is successful?

What if people actually listen?

What if someone wants to interview me?

Let me tell you a story. Years ago, when my play was being promoted, I had to do a radio interview at noon. OVER THE PHONE.  Yes, the phone. Not even in person.

Just… talking.

Into a phone.

Apparently, the idea of this was enough to send me into a mild existential crisis. At 10:00 that morning I found myself sitting in a bar with a glass of wine, trying to calm my nerves.  It was a Sunday and I had eggs, so I think that’s acceptable in society, but…

Ten o’clock.

In the morning.

For a phone interview.

At noon.

This is the level of courage we’re working with here.

And yet… here we are.

Because the strange thing about dissatisfaction is that it isn’t always a sign that something is wrong. Sometimes it’s a sign that your soul is trying to upgrade your life.

It’s like your internal operating system popping up a message that says:

“New version of you available. Install now?”

Most of us hit Remind Me Later for about twenty years.  I know I did.

But eventually the reminders stop being polite. My soul is no longer whispering.

It’s shouting!

Tell the story.

Write the damn book. (Actually, publish. Because it’s been written for a year!)

Start the podcast.

Say the thing. Say all the damn things.

I recently realized something important.  I started out, over a quarter a century ago, (damn, that makes me sound old as hell!) wanting to help people with food and nutrition. Teaching people how to eat better, live better, and feel better.

And I still love doing that. (At least attempting to since folks can be resistant!) But then something unexpected happened.

I fell in love with writing.

And storytelling.

Which is fine, since it turns out stories are also nourishment. They feed the mind. They comfort the heart. They remind people they’re not crazy for wanting something more. You may not even know what it is, but you for damn sure know what it ain’t!….More of the same.

And apparently someone else saw that coming long before I did. Ms. Lepel. My high school English teacher. She knew. She saw something in this teenager that I hadn’t figured out yet. I guess teachers are funny that way. They’re like psychic talent scouts.

So here I am. Standing at the edge of something new. Terrified. Excited. Suspicious of my own life choices. But also clear about one thing.

I cannot keep doing the same thing every day while slowly marching toward the end like I’m in some parade of mediocrity.

Nah. That’s not how this is going to go down. That is absolutely NOT how I’m going down.

If my soul is screaming, the least I can do is listen.

So, here’s what I’m learning about dissatisfaction which I googled because I kept spelling it wrong and the robots put together this summary:

Dissatisfaction is a state of discontent, displeasure, or unhappiness stemming from unmet expectations, poor experiences, or lack of fulfillment.

It isn’t always unhappiness. Sometimes it’s guidance. Sometimes it’s the early warning system that your life is ready for expansion. Sometimes it’s the moment before reinvention.

And sometimes it’s the uncomfortable realization that the thing you’re meant to do will scare the living s#*t out of you!

Truth is, your calling does not require your confidence. It only requires your willingness.

You can be scared and still start.

You can doubt yourself and still move forward.

You can drink a glass of wine at 10am before a radio interview… and still show up.

Fear may ride shotgun. But it doesn’t get to drive.

So, if you’re feeling that quiet dissatisfaction creeping into your life, pay attention.

Your soul might just be clearing its throat.

And if it starts to call you, screaming……

Well…

Ya’ll might want to answer.