The Year of Yes

When you meet Amanda Palmer…

Hug her. Thank her. Tell her how her music has gotten you through so much.

And then make her scream into a camera.

I won entrance, via Twitter, into a super-secret surprise rehearsal for Ms. Palmer’s new music project, EvelynEvelyn, which is premiering in Cambridge next Monday night. Yet another absurd surprise this week that just makes me marvel at how my life has become so abundant with adventure and joy.

Thank you to Bruce for sending this:

“and then your job is not to run after them.”

(Note: Updated and edited for clarity on Saturday afternoon.)

Morning commute. I was in a good mood. I had a new hat and really, nothing can suck when you’re rocking a new hat (set at an angle you hope comes off as “jaunty” and not just “douche-y”). The Dresden Dolls “Mrs. O” came on the iPod. It got me thinking about the time in the late 90’s when I worked in Harvard Square and passed The Eight Foot Bride on an almost daily basis. Of course, I didn’t know it was Amanda Palmer. But then, Amanda Palmer was not AMANDA FUCKING PALMER yet.

So I considered it A Message From The Universe when, later that morning, I read the following portion of her most recent blog post. In it, she responds to criticism about her latest project, and in doing so has put words to thoughts that I’ve been meditating on for some time—not just about the courage to create, but I think also about the courage it takes to love yourself and others.

I just wanted to reach through the intarwebz and kiss her full on the mouth. Or perhaps simply make her a cup of tea and stroke her hair. WHICH IS TOTALLY NOT CREEPY. *eye twitch*

listen:
in my life and in my work, i’ve made a lot of people angry. 

people love to judge.
too feminist. not feminist enough. too outspoken. not outspoken enough. too intellectual. 
too dumb. too glam. too underdressed. too funny. not funny enough. too inappropriate. too safe.
wrong kind of funny. marrying my favorite author and now i fucking hate her. fat. irritating. loud.
blah blah blah blah, etc, ad infinitum.

this is something i’ve had to learn to live with.

to get clear, i always have to stop, dig deep within myself and ask: 
were my intentions good? could i really stand behind them? was anybody really harmed? 
if i’ve actually harmed someone (and the harm isn’t just a drama in their heads), have i owned my responsibility?

when i quiet myself down and find the answer within myself, that’s the most important one.
it speaks louder than the voices outside my head and the anonymous voices on the internet.

it is to this voice you must listen, or you’re FUCKED.

i know a lot of younger people read this blog and i have constant contact with teenagers who are always asking me:
“how do i get brave?”

a lot of that answer lies in situations like these. 
when you are forced to sit down, reckon with a situation, listen to people screaming that they hate you, take stock of what you’ve done, look everyone in the eye, tell them what your intentions are, and know that they will either hear and understand you or they will walk away. 

and then your job is to not run after them. 
your job is to stay calm. your job is continue on with your work.  
and the hardest thing, sometimes, is to continue on with your work in a spirit of love, without letting other people’s hate and anger getting the best of you, and turning you into bitter, angry and jaded fuck.

it’s so easy to be afraid. to do nothing. to not make your art, to not follow your calling, your passion, your impulses, to not take any risks for fear of people cutting you down and misunderstanding you.
most people are CONTROLLED by fear, because they’re convinced they’ll do the wrong thing, say the wrong thing, write the wrong thing, sing the wrong thing.
those fears are founded. you can see that, here, now.
shit happens, you can upset people.

and you need to do your work anyway, because the world needs you to.

that, i think, is how you get brave.