Just Do You
People sure say a lot of things. We’ve all got something to say, whether it’s through music or words or food or needlepoint or rampant gesticulation (the poor man’s interpretive dance). I am always sniffing for the formulas, and I’ve finally caught the scent: Just do you.
I spend a good amount of time watching what other people are doing, because I want to be culturally relevant, whatever that means. It completely depends, since what’s relevant for cosplayers isn’t what it is for hip hop heads. So I watch how people do them, how they develop and share their expression and how people react back. Mostly, it confuses me. Because no matter how much I learn about what someone else does, that makes no nevermind in doing me.
I am generally unrelenting in forging my own path, and doing my own thing. But sometimes it’s intimidating. What if no one likes it, or worse – what if no one cares? I’m grateful that I’m not the kind of person to try to emulate someone else, and even more appreciative that when I try, I end up with something all my own. Even in times when I have been boxed in to speak in the voice of others, it still came out as my own. Which is why I find myself doing me instead of representing someone else.
The most daunting part isn’t the dedication, or the work, or the constant learning. It’s the fear that no one will listen. But does it really matter? I live in an age where people fight for recognition, but it’s available when the craft comes correct. Maybe I’ll put in all this work and it won’t matter, and when I turn to dust, so will my body of work. Maybe it’ll be even worse if I do get traction, and expectations continue to grow, and haters come out of the woodwork.
The more I explore what is to just do me, the more I find that doing me is about touching others. I aspire to enrich you in some way. To move you, to provide something you can relate to, to make laundry day a little brighter. The pulse I put my finger on is mine, and I bump to the rhythm of my own heartbeat. Whether or not that resonates doesn’t matter.
Whatever direction I’m pulled, I hope my path crosses yours.
Let me know you’re out there. I want to know what it is to just do you. Learn me something.