My theme for 2025 is Relentless Creative Output.
And I’m not waiting till Jan. 1 to get started.
Last night I achieved a goal I’ve had for a long time. I performed my first open mic poetry reading.
The video and written poem are below.
But first, I want to share the strategy I used to force myself into action on this goal…
Here’s my secret:
I piggybacked off someone who was already doing something adjacent to my goal.
For me, that’s my little brother, Chunk.
Chunk is living out his piano/music dreams and has been playing regularly at open mics for the past few years.
When he decided to come visit Colorado over Christmas, I urged him to play at an open mic that I could also do a poetry reading at.
Because here’s the thing…
When I was “thinking of” doing a poetry reading alone, I was sitting there with no poem written…
Instead, I…
hitched my wagon to Chunk
used the pressure of a date on the calendar to take action
created space for 4x writing sessions to draft and refine my piece
I ended up on stage, sharing something from my heart and expressing a part of me that I love.
It took equal parts courage and strategy to bring the experience out of me.
Now on to the video and written form poem…
The Weight of Armor: Video (6 mins)
The Weight of Armor: Written Form
Zzzzzschewppp…
Kerplunk…
The subway doors screech and slam open
A young man steps out of the car and into the world above
He raises his gaze up the stairs and peers through a portal to the world above
Morning sun, blue skies, busy people, the city life he’s dreamed of
It’s Day 1 of his new job.
Fresh slacks, a button down shirt, it’s a polished disguise
That hides the quiet doubt behind his bright green eyes
___
His salary, his LinkedIn title, his company name
He wears these like armor to guard him from shame
A shield of defense, protection from arrows
Not sure who he is yet, his dreams start to narrow
The young man walks to his building, and through the elevator door
He rises higher and higher, all the way up to the 15th floor
But when he sits down at his desk, he’s puzzled.
The armor was proof he’s not a failure in life
He checked the boxes, degree, job, even got a wife
Before he powers on his laptop, he’s forced to face his reflection
And that feint sense of doubt makes him ask the question…
“Who am I?”
“What is this?”
“Am I sure this is me?”
“Is this even where I’m supposed to be?”
To sell software on spreadsheets
To spend all day on a screen
Slowly, without notice, the days start to glaze by
To dream bigger, to chase more, he doubts he should even try
And now the armor that was once used for protection
Is now blocking his true self from any form of expression
From exploring himself, from making things new
His heart has been padlocked, no key, no clue what to do…
With the rest of his life.
He’s trapped in the rhythm of canned responses and code words
“How’s work? Busy”
“Living the dream”
“Almost Friday”
He doesn’t even know where these catch phrases are coming from
Like young Harry Potter suddenly speaking parseltongue
Except there’s a difference.
He’s not in the process of fulfilling a destiny
Instead, he’s in process forgetting who he can be
___
The weight of armor…
One day he realizes it’s suffocating his might
His desire to dream, to build, to go and take flight
He needs a change, a spark, a turn of the key
From this padlocked protection, he has to break free
The beige cube walls, which once felt like a cage
He turns them to kindling, a fire is starting to rage
He starts to draw and create, he finds new inspiration
To sew dog bandanas, and sendl them across the nation
Light pours out of his heart
Piercing through cracks in his armor
He closes out of Excel
He throws away his laptop monitor
___
He dashes back into the elevator and descends with grace
Nothing feels lighter than giving yourself permission to leave the rat race
He exits the building and thwwappp he bursts free
Unlatching the armor of who people want him to be
Click, click, click
He prances down subway stairs
Leaving behind his worries and cares
Sssssspppp
The subway doors hiss open, a powerful rush of warm tunnel air hits his face
A jolt of excitement fills his heart space
Where is he going?
He isn’t even sure…
Just out of the city, where the air is more pure
The subway converts to a passenger train
In the blink of an eye, he’s across the plains
There’s a view of the mountains, where the sky meets the peaks
A life of adventure, where wild hearts speak
It’s an expansive horizon, a place to be free
And as imagination grows, the more it can see
How do I know this freedom, this lightness, this view?
Because the man on this journey… was me, breaking through
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