Day 10 of 100

It used to be that my greatest enemy was silence.

I attacked silence violently with words and when alone, music. The length of silence never mattered. The space between words felt like a valley between mountains, and when someone would stop to take a breath, I would unload a stream of sentences that piled on each other like a car crash.

For me, that is what mania feels like. And most of the time, I loved it. I could think fast, speak fast, work fast. I could come up with 100 amazing ideas that all could become billion dollar businesses that only I could build.

I often felt invincible and euphoric and the perfect version of myself.

Until I crashed into a depression so dark the only light came from an imaginary exit sign over a doorway to nothingness.

And it happened quickly. Sometimes multiple times in a day. No one knew how I would react to anything for I had no clue which Micah would show up.

After visiting Dr. Wood getting diagnosed as Bipolar, and getting on meds I stabilized. Not completely but mostly.

And the weirdest feeling was that I had somehow lost part of myself. That I was less of me. That all the fears I had about not being good enough or smart enough were true, and that all of my success could be tied to this magic mania.

There are two other times in my life when I felt the same level of euphoria and contentment. One was when I first started doing cocaine, long before it became a problem, and a few years into my sobriety.

I remember distinctly sitting on a Zoom AA meeting and having this feeling of warmth emanate from the center of my being. I had two realizations. 1) the other show was never going to drop; and 2) that silence occupies space, and in those spaces where I was at my best.

I learned to listen actively and completely to not just the words, but the meaning and intent. I stopped talking as much as I once did and moved fully into the silent spaces and felt at home.

I think that is why, in part, I became a coach. Because founders are rarely listened to. They are talked at and expected to speak out, but rarely are they given the space to just be fully disclosed.

I don’t fear silence as I once did. What’s funny is that I hear sounds I never heard before like the chuckle I make when I really smile or the difference between all the barks Sydney is developing.

Space, Silence, Patience all breed Understanding.

Amazing.