I recently hung a version of this print over my desk to honor the fact that one of my major life metaphors has changed - changed for the better, I feel.
My metaphor used to be juggling. I was juggling my professional life, my creative life, my social life. I was juggling a lot of balls and nothing could drop. Dropping anything would mean Failure. Dropping anything meant I would never be able to pick it up again, as if it was paper dropping into lava, instantly irretrievable.
Wants turned into shoulds at an alarming rate. Yes, I wanted to play guitar more. Yes, I wanted to spend more unstructured time at my press. But then I started telling myself I should be playing guitar everyday. I should be logging 8 hours a week at my press. Oh, and this all had to happen in addition to a full-time job and the necessities of health, hygiene, nutrition, and rest. The only thing I was creating was a giant ball of anxiety.
I was shoulding all over myself.
Well, it's taken some work and many conversations with wise people, but somewhere along the line my metaphor changed. Now, instead of juggling, I am shelving (an apt metaphor for a librarian.) My projects and creative plans are waiting for me, safely stored away until I have the time, space, and energy to take them off the shelf, dust them off, and dive in. There's no rush.
Do you have a metaphor? Is it working for you or against you?
1 comments:
I don't have a metaphor, particularly, but I will admit that I would like to time all work-related activities (either for pay or art) so that I work at them for an equal number of hours per week, and give them 100% intensity, so that I at least know that I'm giving it my all, and whatever happens, happens. Still don't have a proper stopwatch, though, and now I'm wondering whether I should use one, thanks to your post.
Really interesting post, Richenda. Thanks for writing.
— Grant
Btw, the CAPTCHA for this comment is "verrater." Lovely word, no?
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