We’re talking poetry, songs, photography, paintings, drawings, skits, monologues – whatever it may be. The Second Beat was born out of conversations with friends, classmates and other lovely people who, upon graduating, had landed in jobs they were grateful for but unhappy in. Stopped writing their songs, stopped writing their poetry, stopped drawing their lives, stopped taking their photos, stopp
ed acting, stopped singing, stopped painting. Some felt they didn't have the time. Some felt that's not what responsible adults do. Some felt that there was no use now that they had no place to share it and no community to share it with. Whatever the reason, they missed it. Later, I'd watch as some of these friends bravely and boldly chose to leave their majors, schools or jobs for the paths they were deeply passionate about (or sometimes, just more interested in). And then I'd watch as some of these friends endured criticism for leaving, for "giving up", for being foolish, for doing something they were told they'd later regret. Because that choice would be the end. But what I've seen in witnessing their experiences, and what I've seen in living mine, is that it's not the end. Those pauses, those questions, those decisions to listen to that thing deep within us that is calling out, to surrender the comfort of plans, to step off of one path and onto another, are by no means an end. They're the birth of the second beat. And I think it's there that things really get interesting. Because, usually, I think that second beat is the life that's been waiting.
