JMQ: We all need a moment to ourselves

After 2 weeks of not posting tweets, John Mayer suddenly posted this:

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Ever since he got back from his little trip last year, he’s been in the news almost everyday, with the Summer 1008 Tour, the side projects, his high profile liaisons, the production of Battle Studies, Mayercraft 2, the Berklee Clinic, Grammys, his undying love for the new batch of pop stars, his non-stop (and often engaging) tweets and now, a crisis that he is currently sharing with those he is only close to.

So I think it’s about time that he took a break from all the chaos.

And where else would he go? Where was that one place that made him a calm (and “mellow” as described by one DJ) person?

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He’s back in Japan, retreating to Kyoto once again. That means he will be gone from the radar for a while and I can only wonder how he’s doing. But you know what? I am so glad that he left, because based on the things he shared about that trip in ‘08 brought back the human being that was masked by the image which media created.

Those few weeks of “cleansing” allowed him to shed a little in order to reveal this John:

GENUINELY HAVING FUN

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Cherry blossoms (sakura) were in full bloom this weekend, and with them came the event known as hanami. In spite of the cold rain, I grabbed the trusty M8 and walked a park in Shibuya to take it all in. As I was strolling along, I spotted some movement in the treeline and followed it to find a makeshift forest rave party. It was fantastic. No trouble, no tension, no threat of the shut-down. It was like a 15 minute detour into the sixties. The pics are in black and white but that’s actually the way I remember it. The kids are all right…. I had to include a photo of me dancing like a fool, because I don’t feel right taking pictures of something like that if I didn’t actually take part in it. I can’t explain it but I think it’s a spiritually sound concept.

 

VERY CONTEMPLATIVE

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FROM THE HEART….

I need to write this.

I’ve been traveling alone in Japan for the better part of three weeks now, and It’s been so remarkable an experience for me that I can’t book a ticket home yet. I haven’t spoken very much out loud these days, but I’ve been thinking to myself in what feels like surround sound. I can see so many things clearly, and feel so connected to myself and the world around me that I need to share the perspective with you.

I’m already aware that when I sing, say or write anything, 50 percent of the response will be in support of it and the other 50 will want to discount it. This blog, though, is directed to 100 percent of people reading it. If my blog truly does have any cultural effect, then it should be used for more than just pictures of sneakers and funny youtube videos. (If you don’t think my blog has any effect, than you can’t by definition be reading this right now and therefore don’t have to respond to it in any way. Isn’t that tidy?)

What I’m about to write isn’t about fame or success or celebrity or the media. That’s my business.

This is about us all.

This is about a level of self consciousness so high in my generation, that it’s actually toxic.

This is about the girl in her bedroom who poses in front of the camera she’s awkwardly holding in her outstretched hand. She’ll take a hundred photos until coming up with one she’s happy with, which inevitably looks nothing like her, and after she’s done poring over images of herself, will post one on her myspace page and then write something like " I don’t give a f*ck what you think about me."

This is about the person trying out for American Idol, who while going off about how confident they are that they were born ready to sing in front of the world, are trembling so badly they can hardly breathe.

This is about me, the guy who walks through a throng of photographers into a restaurant like he’s Paul Newman, but who leaves a "reject" pile of clothes in his closet so high that his cleaning lady can’t figure out how one man can step into so many pairs of pants in a week.

This is about a young guy who maintains a celebrity blog that subsists on tearing other people down but who has wrestled with a lifelong battle for acceptance as a gay man.

This is about us all. Every one of us. Who all seem to know deep down that it’s incredibly hard to be alive and interact with the world around us but will try and cover it up at any cost. For as badass and unaffected as we try to come off, we’re all just one sentence away from being brought to the edge of tears, if only it was worded right. And I don’t want to act immune to that anymore. I took the biggest detour from myself over the past year, since I decided that I wasn’t going to care about what people thought about me. I got to the point where I had so much padding on that, sure, I couldn’t feel the negativity, but that’s because I couldn’t feel much of anything. And I think I’m done with that.

I’m not the first person to admit we’re all self conscious, Kanye was. But what I want to do is to shed a little light on why we’re all in the same boat, no matter the shape of the life we lead: because every one of us were told since birth that we were special. We were spoken to by name through a television. We were promised we could be anything that we wanted to be, if only we believed it and then, faster than we saw coming, we were set loose into the world to shake hands with the millions of other people who were told the exact same thing.

And really? Really? It turns out we’re just not all that special, when you break it down. Beautifully unspectacular, actually. And that truth is going to catch up with us whether we want to run from it or not. The paparazzo following me to the gym ain’t gonna be Herb Ritts and the guy he’s following ain’t gonna be Bob Dylan. It’s just a matter of how old you are once you embrace that fact. And for me, 30 sounds about right.

What now, then? I can only really say for myself: Enjoy who I am, the talents and the liabilities. Stop acting careless. In fact, care more. Be vulnerable but stay away from where it hurts. Read. See more shows. Of any kind. Rock shows, art shows, boat shows. Create more art. Wear hoodies to dinner. Carry a notebook and hand it to people when they passionately recommend something and ask them to write it down for me.
Root for others.

Give more and expect the same in return, but over time.

Act nervous when I’m nervous, puzzled when I don’t know what the hell to do, and smile when it all goes my way. And never in any other order than that.

And when it’s all over, whether at the end of this fabulous career or of this life, which I hope takes place at the same time, I should look back and say that I had it good and I made the most of it while I was able. And so should you.

I’m going quiet now.

 

IN NEED OF PEACE

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When was the last time you had a truly pure moment? The simple order of you, the enjoyment, the happiness, the end.

Without that nagging arithmetic of what the moment must look like to others, what it might read like tomorrow, and if it bears any significance in the long term…

When was the last time you heard the voice in your head over all the noise?

Simple happiness is at a premium… and I can’t think of anything more valuable I want to own right now…

Self consciousness is toxic… And it’s everywhere…
I have not learned anything from fame and success that I wouldn’t have wanted life to teach me without it…
From Kyoto, in the rain…

 

Just like us ordinary people, he needs a break. A chance to enjoy life, minus the insanity.

Truly inspiring.

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3 thoughts on “JMQ: We all need a moment to ourselves”

  1. your words put me in tears…i’m at a point in my life where i have decided to be me…when i’m be-bopping in my car not caring what people think,or laughing so loud and crazy that i just might pee my pants, being the best mom i can, yet letting my son be who he is,always keeping a close friendship with his father (divorce does not have to be a bad thing),or sending out a letter to a perfect stranger because his words made me feel he’s someone who would totally get me and understand me..hoping inside for a reply,spending time with friends, crying when i feel sadness, laughing when i feel joy, writing when i feel a song, never feeling my age, no matter how much i’m told i need to grow up & stop playing in the sandbox, or laying in the grass,watching the clouds … daydreamiing, as long as i’m being me…and you are being you

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