Oh, For a Moment (or to quit…)

Lesson: Realizing what a lack of moments has taught me

Haven’t done this in a very long time, but something prompted me to make this post today. Sorry for the abrupt ending; I hate talking about my feelings, so I just ended with a song I wrote. Here we go…

My Driving Force

I create moments. It’s difficult, and I’m not the best, but I can confidently say I’m good at it. And I’m proud of myself for that.

Everywhere I go, my passion leads me to create moments for people. It’s what I strive for. It takes a lot out of me because I am still that introverted kid who sits back and notices everything in the room. But the fact that I’ve never felt like anyone would give their all to create a moment for me is part of what drives me to give my all to craft moments for others. That’s what truly makes me smile.

Something as small as connecting with a grocery clerk, waiter or waitress, or fast food worker–seeing them light up when they see me because I know their names and I care how they’re doing–makes me smile.

I’m an Uber driver. And what I’ve realized living in a world where people naturally oppose connection–through the earphones they put in their ears, the phone they bury their face in when there’s a human right next to them, so on and so forth–is that people want to matter to someone. I’ve driven thousands of passengers to various destinations throughout the past few years, and seeing the look on a person’s face when they realize someone actually cares to know how their day is going and what’s going on in their life will always make me smile.

The woman I met today who is battling through a midlife crisis and a culture that has left her behind. The man who wishes that dream could become a reality and he could just work the job that he’d actually enjoy. The girl who’s lost, going through a “quarter-life crisis” and using alcohol and sex to cope. The homosexual man seeking a sexual encounter because that’s the only place he feels he can find connection in a foreign world. Oh, I have so many stories. These people matter to me. And they’ve made me smile as I created a small but meaningful moment for them through our conversations.

I’m an audio engineer at my church. I’ve had many experiences with church that I will not get into here, but a couple things remain certain: I still feel called to serve, so I do it even when I don’t want to. And as the mix hits just right and I get to see a room full of hundreds or even thousands of people setting aside their struggles as they lift their hands and sing loudly to a God they believe to be a consistent savior despite their current position, I smile inside because I helped create that moment.

I’ve gotten the opportunity to lead several staffs of people at various jobs, and watching synergy get cultivated after learning how much more valuable people are than tasks and positions has made me smile on several occasions. When a staff member thanks you for having grace when they thought they’d be in trouble. When they ask you to pray for their mother who may be undergoing a potentially fatal surgery. When they excel after you’ve trained them and left the company. I’ve created these moments, and they make me smile.

Goodness, as a songwriter and performer…seeing people dance to your songs or cry as they resonate with lyrics you wrote while you were homeless, hopeless, and begging God for a better life… It all makes me smile because I got to craft these moments.

The Reward

But as I seek to create as many meaningful moments for people as I can, I can’t help but wish someone had taught me the weight of giving your all.

LESSON 1:
Just because you care for people doesn’t mean they’ll care for you. I can’t count the times I’ve heard “Thank you so much!”, “You’re so sweet,” “You should be a therapist,” “Thank you for caring,” “You’re an angel,” “You’re such a good listener,” “Thanks for the support,” etc.

I’m always flattered. People mean well. But I also find myself repulsed. Repulsed as I realize people will not do the same, they will not go out of their way, they will not sacrifice even when it’s killed you to do so. After all, no one asked you to choose to deplete yourself as opposed to settling for the cancerous mundane. The “right thing” has become synonymous with what makes us feel good. What a way to live. What a way to improve a dying world.

LESSON 2:
Working hard doesn’t mean you’ll get what you want, and doing the right thing doesn’t mean you’ll be rewarded any time soon. I firmly believe manifestations come when people stop making excuses and choose the hard route over the more sure one; however, the high school graduate and college version of me would be much less naive had someone told me that what follows directly after my sacrifice may leave me medicated and in therapy.

LESSON 3:
Sometimes, enduring is much easier than giving up, and tenacity will eat you alive. People have told me they look up to me for my willingness to persevere and keep the faith. A few months ago, I told someone parts of my story over brunch, and they asked how I’ve managed to keep going and hold onto my faith. I didn’t have a good answer.

I’m realizing now that, honestly, I just think I was wired this way. I hate saying that because everything to me needs to be rooted in reason. (EVERYONE should pursue purpose over comfortability, and the world is in shambles because most people don’t.) But I’ve wanted to quit so bad at several points in my life…the first time I was suicidal, I was probably 7 years old. I’ve told God several times if things don’t change soon, if I don’t get to feel loved by at least one person, if I don’t get to experience a sense of freedom in my day-to-day life soon, I won’t be able to make it.

Turns out, giving up is harder than I thought. I can’t do it, and sometimes I honestly wish I could.

Started my first business I was 14
Yeah I seen a lot of failures had the worst dreams
Folks who lied and said they’d help me never joined the team
They placed the burden on my back and flaunted when it killed me

Now I’m wrong when I show how it’s hard to be a man
When I don’t fit into your box cause I got greater plans
When I ain’t superman enough to hold it in my hands
I’m sorry that my daddy never taught me what you understand

My mental health says I just ain’t perfect like you
And I ain’t fit to find a girl if I got issues too
Provider, lover, fighter ain’t enough I’m not as cool
And I can’t bring them butterflies like all the real special dudes

Rest right but fight that success fight
Never quit but I won’t help you see the light
I understand there’s a God who gives the dead life
And I’ll scream hallelujah when I make it to that flex life

“Flex Life” by Christian Sanders