Low Stakes, High Hum

Here is my submission for Bill Ferguson 🇨🇦’s Stories from the Jukebox prompt, Woodstock, by Joni Mitchell.

This week’s Jukebox prompt is Woodstock, and I don’t want to write it.

But I don’t want to lose my streak either.

Sometimes calling yourself a perfectionist sounds like a humble-brag. And I feel like some people might mean it that way.

But it’s not.
Not over here in Turtle Meat Land, anyway.

Perfectionism is exhausting.
It’s the residual of a life lived ducking
and bracing
and figuring it out on my own.

Perfectionism is a flaw, plain and simple, and I’m not proud of it.

I’m afflicted by it.

So, anyway—I caught myself thinking about half-assing it.

And I don’t love that phrase. Not because it’s not accurate, but because it sounds like I don’t care about the Jukebox, or MJ Polk, or any of it.

And that’s not it.
Not atall.

So let’s call it something else.
Let’s just say right now, I’m not doing this half-assed…
I’m doing it low stakes style.

I’ve had this low-level hum of anxiety the past few days, and it reminds me of the old days—when that hum was just… the background noise of my life.

But this doesn’t feel like it’s that.
At least, I hope not.

There are a few culprits I could point to. A few neat little explanations I could wrap this in.

I’ve got a live reading coming up—my brain says it’s fine, but my body is still clocking the danger. And yes, let’s just gloss over the fact that I even told y’all about that.

I’m doing some leveling up, and it’s kind of public.

There’s been some interpersonal ambiguity bubbling in the background.

I’ve been consistent for a long stretch—and that? That’s not exactly my MO, and it’s quietly raising the stakes.

But I also know this anxiety could be due to any number of things.

Or nothing.

But my brain wants to make sense of it—stat. And in the meantime, it’s like:

hey… maybe ease up a little
maybe don’t do the thing that keeps putting us out there

And I know that voice.

I’ve been down this road before.

So hopefully, this is just a visit.
Not a return. Just… a little smog rolling in.

And hopefully, it lifts soon—

and I can make it back to the garden—
or at least a place where the hum goes quiet.

Here’s the mixtape.

Woodstock — Joni Mitchell
Fast Car — Tracy Chapman & Luke Combs
Use Somebody — Kings of Leon
Shake the Frost — Tyler Childers
Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right — Bob Dylan (we’ll get there)
This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody) — The Lumineers
(because does this song just fit every aspect of my life or what)

First Light

Woodstock