Hello, and welcome to Volume 39 of the Underground Binder Clip Society.
I got in trouble this week. Real bad. I conducted myself in a way that I shouldn’t have. I felt guilt and shame and conviction. I did what I could to apologize and explain myself. But I didn’t do all that I could. Maybe just enough. In some sense, I felt warranted. I felt justified. I carried on, traveling to the edges of what I might call “acceptable behavior.” You could say I was bootstrapping it in a way, or maybe just self-advocating. I chose not to consider someone else’s feelings in order to pursue what I wanted. Brute force is not always the way. Especially not when peoples feelings are involved.
There is a song by the not-so-critically-acclaimed band, Danielson called “Be Your Wildman.” It goes a little something like this:
“My loins say just one thing to me
but my brain
My brain says another thing to me
but my loins
I deserve to be drop-kicked…
drop kicked by God…”
…
This week, I needed to be drop-kicked. I needed to feel the foot of God in the seat of my pants.
On the way home from work recently I called a friend to make a long overdue apology. This led to an unexpected conversation about my not-so-upstanding character in the eyes of said person. While trying to decide whether or not I agreed with these claims, my new-to-me 1986 ford ranger sputtered to a stop on the side of the road. Being that I was only a mile from home, my roommate Charlie quickly came to my rescue. Red has been known to overheat, so I planned to let her sit awhile before cranking her up and bringing her home.
I sat at the house awhile contemplating my sanctity and my sanity. I tried to recount how many days it had been since I had to tell someone sorry for being the way that I am. It hadn’t been that long. But guilt is no good for anything, and neither is shame. So I took conviction and we went to Little Ceasers. I was quickly dumbfounded once again by the power of putting yourself in front of other people. I recognized some sort of good coded in myself while exchanging my seven dollars and forty three cents for one pepperoni hot-n-ready. The man working the counter showed me a burn on his arm from the pizza oven. I tried to make it out of my self-loathing induced mind fog, but it was tough. I didn’t say much, if anything, in regards to the burn. Yet, I was able to muster a “have a good one” as I walked out, pizza in hand. I needed to eat, yes, I was quite malnourished. But I had missed the invitation towards empathy. I had seen the goal and chosen not to score. Both teams would have won I believe, had I simply showed up. I left the premises, having secured my sustenance, without the slightest gratitude toward this man for reactivating my personhood. My reality — this person, had diffused my inner dumpster fire. He had offset my mental feedback loop and turned it into music.
I got home and was greeted by deer in the front yard. They let me sit with them awhile, and so I let it wash over me. The cool of night. A clear divide between what I do and who I am. Grace. Peace. Forgiveness. Creation. The larger and grander story at play. I had exited my prior desire to be drop-kicked. All the while, knowing I could do better.
Back in the warmth of the house, I was still halfway brainstorming ways to punish myself and/or ward off evil spirits. I remembered the truck had been sitting down the road for awhile now and still needed rescuing. Charlie had told me that he’d drive me back over there, but I was feeling a little like walking in the cold. I started on my way, and pretty quickly found that I was out of energy to put toward self-loathing. I knew I needed to hold on to some conviction. But I was happy to be on a walk, and to have a full belly and to have a project truck and to have friends who are willing to have hard conversations. By the time I got to the truck, I was gleaming with excitement, and laughing to myself about how unnecessary, yet fun having this truck has been. She cranked right up, as I expected, and we got back home.
Just like that, maybe quicker than ever, I was well on my way back to center. Back to deep down, who I know I really am. It takes time to learn about who you are. A lot of long reflection. I am trying to keep showing up and doing this good work in myself. But i’ve also got to remember all of the work that work that’s already been done. It takes a different kind of faith to believe that we can still change. I sure as hell don’t have it figured out. But I think I know a lot more than the devil would have me think I know.
When we choose to, we can in fact, live and learn. If it’s gonna take time, then I think I wanna take it.
God, let nothing be lost on me.
Yours Truly,
Jake Smith
Here are this week’s “Quick Clips”:
* Listen to my newest album “Good Grief” here.
* No Community Dinner This Month! But we will be back soon! Sign up for the Happy Medium Community Dinner email list HERE to stay in the loop.
* The title for this weeks newsletter is pulled from the aforementioned song “Be Your Wildman” by Danielson.
* There is a great documentary about Danielson HERE featuring Sufjan Stevens as an early member of their touring band.
* Here is an unlisted link to footage from the full band Smitty set we played in Nashville last month. It showcases a few new songs.
* T-shirts and stickers are available NOW at happymediumtn.com.
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As always, shoot me an email if you want to work on music, remote or in-person, here in Nashville, TN.
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