The Death of Chasing a Dream
Maybe it was hearing another no. Maybe it was the long Uber ride home realizing the last session didn’t go anywhere. Maybe it was the win you received that everyone praised you for but deep down inside you know you want more. Maybe it was telling another person that you’re not full-time or maybe it’s you slowly accepting the inevitable. You’re getting older and more importantly, you’re getting tired. The late nights hit a little harder in the morning and the caffeine doesn’t affect you the way it used to. You find yourself dozing off in the middle of the day while trying to balance appointments, sales call with prospects, and contemplating making another TikTok. Your family is supportive as they’ve watched you pushed harder and harder to get where you are but you know you have so much farther to go. You tell your closest friends about your ambitions, but deep down inside you don’t even know if you still have that fire. You’re slowly feeling the poison that every creator starts to ingest. It’s called aging.
You see a few older producers and artists continue to push forward by releasing more projects, taking more trips to conferences, and trying to keep up with the kids but you wonder if that’ll be you. It doesn’t get talked about but there are a few people in this business who are still chasing to become full-time artists, musicians, engineers, and/or producers at the ripe age of 50. No one says it but we all know a guy or two whom you start to think that maybe they should give it up. You start to wonder if it’s tenacity you’re witnessing or a fool’s errand. Working to balance a full-time job, family, other obligations and working on making your passion into a career is a daunting task. It never stops. There are no breaks, no hand outs, and no one cares that you continue to push yourself because apparently you could just stop at any moment. This is your decision and if you continue on then it’s on you. You’ve already proven that this is what you want to do with the 15 plus years you’ve put in but what happens when you start seeing through the wins? Do you keep going or bow out gracefully? I’ve seen quite a few of my contemporaries do this. They all walk out with their heads hanging low and if you’re like me you’ve wondered if that’ll be you.
So what do you do? Do you continue on hoping to grab that one opportunity that will turn things around? We’ve all heard that you shouldn’t care what other people think but as a creative that’s not something you’ve ever concerned yourself with in the first place. You’ve always made art and marketed it because that’s what you want to do not because it’s cool. In fact, the more you go against the grain the more success you have. You’re wondering if you still have gas left in the tank to pursue the vision you have in your head. The scary part isn’t quitting. That’s easy. To sell all of your equipment, close your social media accounts, wipe your website clean, and delete certain contacts would be a breeze. It’s the very thought of answering the question, “what next?” You’ve been training and conditioning yourself for one thing and one thing only. Create. Now, you can’t even think about what else is there to do. Just thinking about coming home and not switching into ‘Batman’ sounds depressing. This has always been a dilemma for anyone who makes the choice to put down one career and try to find another. You would literally have to change who you are, or give that person up. It’s Superman permanently becoming Clark Kent. He may hang up the cape for good, but he knows he can still fly. He’s just tired of fighting.
As of now I am looking at two plaques on my wall, a production company, a few projects in the works, one that could’ve been nominated for a Grammy this year, and a busy 2022. However, I am not satisfied. On the outside I am conquering the world day by day but the truth is these last three years have been a struggle. I don’t have the same vigor and I can tell it’s nothing physical. I can still go off of 4 hours of sleep and still hit the gym. Go to a rooftop party all night and still hit the studio afterwards. It’s the thought of going out there again and trying to get another paid project, pitching more records, getting more contacts, more follow ups, and still hearing no. I try not to look for the big win, but it’s hard not to when you’re so close yet so far. I know that at some point I’m going to want to slow down and I’m afraid if I take my foot off the gas I won’t put it back.
I know this is normal and temporary. Yet while I’m here, I’ll need to find a different gear or start looking for the exit.
