Nobody Really Cares If You Don't Go To The Party

On Overwhelm & Things Take Time, Things Take Time

I think I may have been suffering from a slight case of overwhelm lately. To borrow an overused cliche, I was juggling a lot of stuff and big ideas and grand plans and dropped one and then everything else went clattering down and it just seemed it a bit much to get the balls back up in the air.

So I didn’t.

My favourite band came to town for the first time in over ten years and I just couldn’t face the idea of going out. Of people. Even ones I loved. Even for the great gift of music.

I generally thrive on productivity and activity and getting things done and despite having numerous projects I’m champing at the bit to make headway on I kind of felt like why? To question the merit or sensibleness or indeed the point of any creative endeavour is always going to be a bad idea and a dumb move because the only good reason to make something out of thin air is because you believe it needs to exist, never because its a good idea. The truth is it’ll probably be better if its a ridiculous idea.

Sometimes things just get a bit much and the only thing to be done is to have a little rest.

My buddy Noah taking care of me when I got overwhelmed and fainted side of stage at a Dirty Three gig at the Annandale Hotel a million years ago. Don’t worry I was straight back out there ten minutes later.

The Courtney Barnett song ‘Nobody Really Cares If You Don’t Go To The Party’ kept coming into my mind, along with the title of her 2021 album Things Take Time, Take Time. Her words are always full of a kind of earthy reassuring wisdom and both sentences felt like messages. I listened and felt calmer. I also just listened to the little voice inside myself and gave myself a break.

Last Sunday - the day when I usually can’t wait to jump out of bed while its still dark outside and write my Substack - I instead let myself go back to bed at lunchtime and write nothing at all. I dozed off and on. I watched a whole season of Hacks and ate pizza in bed. Disgusting I know. It was bloody marvellous.

I’ve been slowly emerging from my self imposed time out chrysalis and preparing to spread my wings and dive back into the fray/garden/world. I’m getting my moxy back. I’m communicating with kind friends. I’m walking and getting my heart rate up. Reconnecting and firing up my neurons. I planted some daffodils in a pot by my front door to brighten my mood every time I come home. Never underestimate the power of a flower.

And a good lie down.

Wishing restful times to those in need of them, and the rest of you, power on! x

Here’s a few minutes of guaranteed joy :