The Truth of the Hustle

I used to say to people who noticed my artistic talents, filled with residual angst, “What does it matter if I am that good, or that smart. I can’t afford groceries this month.” I’m embarrassed to admit, that I’d resent that complement more than any other. Not anymore, though. Now, I lay in bed after long days of believing the truth of the hustle, defined as “making money within the limitations of this body and mind,” soul talents on the side. I lay in bed and think of this one prayer I wrote deep in my healing journey, “Lay me down between the armies within, forgive me for every harm, there I will dream, and I will not be afraid of love.” I don’t beg for relief like I used to, from the swimming mind, or the constant physical pain, as much as I try to be honest about what I want, and what I need.

I speak in reasonable hopes for the future security of me and the ones I love. I guess I don’t pray for fame or eternal life in the history books anymore, I know I must die, and so must my name in this life, or do I? Do any of us realize that anonymity is just a better life? I supposed I know enough to know that death walks with me everywhere I go, and fame is a cultural bluff. 

But, writing this, I have to look back on every way I tried to bluster myself up against the pain, and every way I still do. For what? It doesn’t change. It’s a hustle, body bound. They say your body is your labor, and no matter how much it seems our minds are mined no-a-days, it is still our biology, our bodies that pay for our groceries.

I don’t even really understand anymore what I truly want. It’s not nothing. And it’s not a lot. I don’t receive anything because I make good art, or write well – even if that’s true – that’s true of a million trillion others. And I don’t do it for owning the words I say, or the ideas I think, or the ways I tinker with life and peace. Honestly, take that from me. I’m not alone here in this community, though, maybe I’m just a bit madder than most. Madder like everyone who is ‘extremely talented’ who just needs a buck to eat.

There has always been more than the meat of dollar in our hand, because we have each other to save. That’s the truth of the hustle. It ain’t always right, but, it is what we choose to give and what we choose to take that builds the world with love.