My Fucking Feelings
My next call to adventure
I recieved the first draft of the cover of my book yesterday and shit just got real. I felt a sudden sense of panic. I would imagine it would be like seeing the ultrasound of your baby for the first time. There’s a permanance to a book being published. It’s not like I can edit or delete like my blogs. There’s no going back. It’s on shelves. People can hold it. Once it’s created, it’s created. It’s a living breathing thing that will have a life of its own. Of course, you want it to have a great lasting life that impacts many. But you don’t have much control over that.
I’ve done my part. I gave birth to it. Now it’s up to the book Gods. And it’s terrifying AF. Although techically this is my second published book, it feels like my first. This is due to two factors. One, the size of the publisher. HarperCollins / HaperOne is one of the world’s largest publising companies. They have books like The Alchemist in their stable. Who the fuck is John Kim and why is he so angry? The second factor is the topic of this book. It’s directly tied to my story and what I believe is my purpose. Sharing my boy to man journey in hopes to challenge other men to look inward. It’s not just a book, it’s my flag. And if it’s successful, it will allow me to make sense of my story and everything that’s happened in the last ten years. It ties everything up with a nice bow. If it’s not successful, the floor drops. My life won’t make sense. I was wrong. Things didn’t happen for a reason. I know that’s a little extreme and I try to tell myself what I tell my clients, Don’t tie ability and things you can’t control to your worth. Experiences over outcomes. Trust the process. But therapists are human too. We have insecurities and questions as well. So I have about seven months before this puppy comes out and seeing the cover made it very real for me.
Now let’s talk about MC Hammer.
Besides the fear, I also feel a stiring. There’s a part of me (the basement guy) that doesn’t want to just sit around and cross fingers. I am reminded of MC Hammer and how he sold CDs out of his trunk outside of nightclubs. He hit pavement. He hustled. He got in the ring.
Instead of a car, I have a motorcycle. Instead of a trunk, I have a backpack. And my “nightclub” is treatment centers, CrossFit boxes, VA centers, non profits, fire stations, coffee shops, schools, and of course book stores.
I made this image above on my phone a few months ago when I felt the stiring. I saw me getting on my bike and riding across the country and colliding with 100 people, getting into their lives, creating a dialogue, and helping any way that I can.
Now I believe it’s my next call to adventure.
I believe it’s time to step away from the computer. Get out of my little bubble. Put my money where my mouth is and carry the flag instead of hoping others will do it for me. Maybe it’s time to do my version of a book tour. Drive across the country on two wheels and meet real people. Run workshops and groups. Sweat with communities and create a dialogue about men and love and life and how we can live better. Higher.
So this is what’s happening inside me, a fire in my belly for the rubber to hit the road. And it’s terrifying because I don’t know how it’s all supposed to come together. I just know what I feel.
Sometimes, life calls. And you have a choice. You can send that shit to voicemail or you can answer it.
If you answer it, there will be a call to adventure and a journey. You will go into the unknown. There will be dragons to slay. Fears to conquer. An arena to enter. And you will be tested. You will bleed. But if you stand tall, on your truth and fight. There will be a return.
And a story.
That may be bigger than you.
The hardest part of anything is making the decision. Saying Yes or I will. Knocking over the first domino. Because logic and all the hows come in fast and create walls made of concrete.
Why am I so angry? Well, to be honest I thought an angry therapist was pretty funny since we’re not supposed to have feelings. But as I embarked on my journey of helping others and working in non profit, I really did start to feel anger. Angry at systems. Angry that we live in a fatherless nation. Angry that so many people are miserable. Angry at all the toxic and dysfunctional relationships that happen due to our past and not wanting to talk or feel. Angry at how we still hold onto old defintions, especially what a man looks like.
Today, as I sip coffee in my little safe world in Los Feliz California writing my fucking feelings like I have for the last decade, I feel the call. The red pill and blue pill is presented.
This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the blue pill — the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill — you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes. Remember: all I’m offering is the truth. Nothing more.
I am deciding to take the red pill.
I have no idea what’s in store for me but hope to meet you in person soon.
- Angry
CALL TO ACTION
Come ride with me,
theangrytherapist@gmail.
