I know what I want out of life, but I’m permanently plagued by the question of how to get “there” from “here”. Part of my problem is that my desires in life are largely abstract, (i.e., I want a sense of community where I live), but the other part is that I honestly believe I could be happy doing many, many things. I want to write, teach writing, counsel, do pottery, sell crocheted goods, open a restaurant, teach cooking, edit, volunteer full-time, and be a mama. When it’s time for me to buckle down and devote myself to one thing — so that I can become really good at it — I am soon distracted by another heart’s desire.
Elliott Smith sang, “I’m a junkyard full of false-starts” and of the many lyrics I’ve related to in my life, (queue seventeen-year-old me reaching through the speakers to hug Stevie Nicks as I hear, “players only looove you when they’re playin’.“) I can relate to being a junkyard the most. The lyric is beautifully descriptive; you can visualize the broken ideas and abandoned projects becoming decayed with rust and neglect.
“Here’s the corroded pile of ideas for starting my own line of stationery.”
That idea failed because I don’t know computer-based design well enough. I didn’t have a good printer. I didn’t have a screen-printer, for sure. I would really have loved a letterpress machine… I wanted to make something from nothing, and without investing anything, either.
It turns out there are very few risk-free hobbies, except for writing, but even that requires an enormous installment of time.
I know I keep writing about wanting to kickstart my life into creativity, but please bear with me. Every time I sit at the keyboard and write I’m feeding the right desire.
So, if sitting at the keyboard and bemoaning my inertia isn’t getting me “there”, what will? How did you get to where you are?
Inside Out 