these days I’m thinking a lot about time. I’m growing my hair long, haven’t gotten it cut since December. my jeans will fade from deep indigo to electric blue as the months pass. yesterday I started jumping rope again, knowing that it’ll be at least a few weeks before I can feel my heart and lungs adjust to the increased strain. since picking up yoga back in the fall, I now can touch my toes for the first time in my life.
at the beginning of the year I decided to rewatch all of Twin Peaks from the beginning. five months later I’m four episodes away from finishing the 2017 limited series reboot. The Return is, among many other things, about how you can’t ever return, especially not 25 years later. time waits for no one, and it’s often the case that trying to dredge up what time has long since submerged only leads to pain and sorrow. forgetting the past is equally perilous—this is also something Twin Peaks is about—but holding too tightly on to a moment that’s gone will perpetuate the cycle of suffering. one must step bravely into the future, a future that guarantees terror, darkness, and mystery, but also wonder, novelty and maybe, just maybe, hope.
I took some time away from writing. the self-recriminating workaholic in me won’t ever let me feel totally okay with that, but I couldn’t muster the energy. what I had been writing bored me. I didn’t feel capable of creating anything worthwhile. this stems from a couple sources, one I’m not at liberty to discuss. the other, related, to be sure, to the secret one, is that there are certain thresholds through which one must pass on the nonlinear, not-necessarily progressive path to achieving a certain mastery. far be it from me to claim I’m close to the summit of that path, but what separates the plateau I’m at now from the one I want to ascend to is to ability to embrace uncertainty, to make a much greater leap than any previous plateau required, a prospect that inspires fear, especially in someone, such as myself, who, despite protests to the contrary, needs to appear as though he knows what he’s doing. note I said “appear as though,” which is very different than knowing (though “intuiting” is probably more appropriate). “appearing as though” means making sure the audience can follow along, and this insurance is bought by conforming to expectations. in short, the fear of appearing stupid, incomprehensible, offensive, or alienating was and has been a huge impediment to my diving headlong into the work.
but aside from courage, what’s important to learn is patience. with myself, with the process, with the world. nothing comes out perfect in an instant. it took Lynch and Frost 30 years to be able to deliver the crowning achievement that is Twin Peaks: The Return. time. patience. a willingness to let things reveal themselves at their own pace. creative agility and adaptability and improvisation. embrace fait accompli.
oh, and if at some point in the last week you saw this landing page:
what was that all about? I’m definitely the same old cody frank, real name, nobody’s operative, never recalled anywhere for reprogramming or anything sinister like that :).
Leave a Reply