I’ve come to realize...I’m never going to be done.
Which, to most of you, must seem odd, since it probably
appears I’ve never gotten started.
So there’s that....
Most folks have things in life they want to accomplish, so they
develop a plan, work hard, stay the course...until one day...they’re done.
Free to rest easy knowing they did all they could do, as
best as they could and achieved what it was they set out to achieve in some
form or another, to some degree or another.
Throw a line in the water, open a book, sleep on a beach or
travel the world...they’re done.
They’re done and now they get to reap all the peace of mind being
done entails.
Like that feeling you had on the last day of school...done.
Like that feeling you had on the last day of school...done.
Oh, I don’t mean they won’t have new challenges and more mountains
to climb...not that kind of rocking chair done.
And I don’t mean they didn’t achieve all kinds of smaller goals
along the way.
I’m sure they did and after every such accomplishment they kicked
back and smoked a celebratory stogie, metaphorically or literally...depending
on how much they value their taste buds.
And I envy that...I envy that peace of mind.
I don’t know if it goes hand and hand with all that soul suffering
"creative" crap some "artsy" types try to sell as an excuse to spend their entire day wallowing
in self-pity at Starbucks, people watching, under the guise of doing character
analysis for a new novel; the one they hope to publish before the next millennia.
And don’t for a second think I’m describing me—I’m not.
I’m more of a Dunkin Donuts guy...and I never stay the entire
day.
How could I...I don’t even get up 'til noon.
No, what I’m describing could very well apply only to me and
my particular brand of neurosis in regard to feeling like I have too many
goals.
Okay...I’ll give you a second here to stop laughing so I can
finish my thought.
Da de da...dum de dum...da de da daaaaaaa....
Done?
What I mean is, some thing in my mind tells me if there’s a
writing implement nearby, I can’t sit down in the middle of the day and read a
book, watch a movie, build a bird house or dig a hole in my back yard for no
reason other than, I can...despite what that doctor said.
Of course, the beach is always my safe haven from such mind needling and probably the reason I retreat there so often come summer. There’s something about the aimless rhyme of rolling waves that blunts my brain and stifles all that internal badgering.
But even then, the needles still sometimes overwhelm; telling
me I should be working on a new story, beginning a new novel, finishing an old
novel, promoting what I already published, prepping what I want to publish next
or even just fishing for “Likes” on the Retort Facebook page.
Which, I have to tell you, really makes all those piña coladas hard to swallow...sort of.
Okay, sure...I know....the solution is simple: just go and
do it. Do it until it’s done and then go do the next thing....and the next and
the next.
Normal people do it all the time, every day, week after week, year after year...until, like I said, one day they’re
done.
But those are all tangible goals...things for the most part understood
and visualized. Working to buy a house, have a family, bake a cake, build a
time machine...
It’s all out there waiting to be lassoed and corralled.
My problem is I have no idea what I’m chasing. I only know
I need to...and it seems, forever, just beyond my reach...like the box of Mallomars Z hid on
the top shelf of the pantry, behind the 30 year old box of Ronzoni wagon wheel pasta.
Which is annoying....
Then the needling digs in so deep it creates a paralysis
of any action, whatsoever...and that's the worst of all.
What to prioritize, how to approach it, what to do with it,
where to do it...and even worse...should I actually do it...will any of it even
matter at all?
And still...something tells me that I should...and when I’m finished
with that...it tells me there’s another thing...and another and another...and
another....
Crazy, huh?
So what else is new?
Hey...at least I got this done.
That must count for something....
Now about that next novel...and that doily business I want
to get off the ground...and I still say earless headphones can work....
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I can RELATE to this.
ReplyDeleteYou mean along with all that lawyering, judging and momming...?
DeleteIt doesn't matter whether or not it matters. You are driven -- and the only temporary cure is to open the lid of the washing machine and watch the agitator go around. Otherwise, there is nothing you can do about it. We are the lucky recipients of this malady of yours. I understand it. Sort of.
Deletei'm rowing the same boat!
ReplyDeletelight the fire and breathe it all in... it's definitely a beautiful day for some frithering....
DeleteToo many things to do - too little time to do them. "Baby steps" Brian. :) - Linda
ReplyDeleteIt's because you're a writer and a certain kind of writer too. I once heard Gloria Steinem say "writing is the only thing I do where I don't think I should be doing something else." More via email or Facebook's messaging page. You've got me thinking!
ReplyDelete