Just Keep Transmitting

On my last day in Kuala Lumpur, a new friend of mine said to me, "Just keep transmitting." We were talking about how the little man in my brain likes to break without warning (or sometimes with lots of warning) and then he spends the next few days or weeks all up in there trying to fix him. The little man wears a pinstripe suit and sits on a roll-y chair, in the middle of my head, at the back of my head. He's bald, has glasses, and looks like the lovechild of Mr. Magoo and Alfred Hitchcock. He has a little red Royal Quiet DeLuxe typewriter, and it's his job to write the story of my life and to say to me, yes you can! or nice try, you jerk. 

But sometimes, he turns into a real pain in the ass, probably because I've overworked him or got him too drunk the night before. He'll throw a fit and refuse to write a kind story. His typewriter breaks down a lot, so he throws it and smashes it and then has to put it back together. It's these days, the bad days, when the only thing I can do is get in a ball, rock back and forth, and pretend to be small until the little man is willing to work again. 

It's on these days where I remember the words of my friend, just keep transmitting. His words are a wonderful result of a Malay to English translation error. In English, someone may have said, "just keep creating" or "just keep writing" or even "just keep being." These statements are nice, but they imply that the creation or the writing or the being is coming from inside my head, from the oft broken little man.

But transmitting...transmitting is different. Transmitting moves the energy and the thoughts and the emotions from one place to another. It allows me to tune into another channel and broadcast what I hear out into the world. Transmitting bypasses the little man, and gives him time to rest and recover so that next time his typewriter breaks, he can do better. I can do better. We can both be better. 

And what I transmit, well, it might be a little weird. Or unexpected. Or forceful. Maybe it's all of those things at once. I don't get to choose. You might think I get to choose, but I don't. I transmit whatever is coming through, whenever it's coming through. Today, the little man is resting. Today, I transmit. Tomorrow he goes back to work, because he and I have some big things to do.