This month my divinations advised retreat, to give myself time to heal. They acknowledged my financial strain, but said it wasn't a total loss. There's hope for healing, but it will be a slow recovery.
I wrote out these words (and others from my seasonal readings) and put them up where I can see them every day when I sit down to my desk. To remind me to take it easy.
When I burnt out in 2019, I made the decision to take a break from touring and cancelled all my 2020 gigs ahead of the pandemic. At the time I had funds from my mother and funds from the Canadian government to see me through. So many people were in a similar state – depression, no work, loneliness – that although I was isolated from most of my friends, we were all in it together in a way.
This time it's different. I made the choice this spring to not travel to the US for work and had nothing to fall back on. There are no extra funds, only piling debts. Stress and terror have different faces this time.
The older I get the louder the world feels. Everyone screaming for attention. The constant sea of noise the internet has become, with every marketing angle and AI thief cajoling and manipulating our attention. We have access to news from around the world but there aren't enough hours in the day to absorb it all.
I found it wasn't even about treading water anymore. Trying to keep up with it all was tearing the hole in my heart wider and I was sinking down. I began to hate making music, writing it, performing it, doing it for a living. I came the closest I've come as a professional to quitting music for good this year.
Was I even allowed to take a break? It was either take one, or give it up for good.
“Be consistent.” One marketing course I took made this a cardinal rule. If you were going on vacation? “Write up all your posts before you leave and let Meta post them for you while you're away. You must offer consistent output. Train your fans to expect it.”
What I've learned the most about marketing from musicians-turned-marketing-course-sellers isn't what they meant to teach; there has to be a better way to do this.
On October 31 I deleted my FB groups and shut down my Meta accounts. No more insidious prompting to be better at my business by doing xyz. No more ads blocking me from what I want to see. No more AI data mining my words (there). Even though I have been assured by multiple marketing consultants that this means the certain death of my career and I should just go make music in my room if I can't handle the real world, I have retreated.
Of all my psyche archetypes (I have identified at least 50) the one that comes most to mind this week is Recluse. November begins my new year, and I begin the year by taking stock of the old one. It's a perfect season to step away from the public eye to consider what my place may be in it going forward.
Recluse has 5 pairs of traits that exemplify this archetype's personality:
Boundary/Wall
Boundaries are essential protections and delineations. They keep me aware of my comfort zone, show me what I need from relationships, and give grounding to my voice. Yet a boundary line can become a wall, obscuring my view and my connections with others. I choose to keep my walls few.
Disability/Work
As a multi-layered creative, self-directed worker, and fiercely independent person, my inclination is to be always working. Unfortunately I very rarely am paid for the work I do, or am underpaid. Many consider autism to be a disability. Depression, anxiety, and burnout are my frequent impediments.
Introvert/Misanthropy
While I do not see any aspect of humanity through a binary lens, I certainly regenerate energy when allowed to retreat from crowds, noise, and industrial overstimulation. This can easily become misanthropy if I let it, so I aim to balance alone time with friend time, preferring to friend one-on-one.
Rest/Root
Rest is one of the most underrated and essential parts of good mental health and I have become much more permissive with it. Perimenopause has handed me chronic insomnia so my vigilance is important. Yet I easily become rooted in place so I schedule time outside/away to prevent this.
Withdrawal/Loneliness
Withdrawal from the world for a time may be necessary and ultimately healing, but loneliness is my constant companion. I can feel lonely in a room surrounded by friends. Knowing this about myself, I am designing new ways to reach out, rekindle, and keep strong, supportive, loving relationships.
Is Recluse one of your archetypes? A voice in your head? Part of your personality? Maybe some of what I've written here sounds familiar. Maybe you haven't thought about yourself this way before. I've found that giving names to all my “voices in the tower” of my mind has produced tomes of self-awareness and buckets of peace.
We hope our thoughts on the nature of retreating offer you some wisdom or food for thought. Let's be kind to our weary selves, however we may.
-- Leslie
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