Pondering on Pyjamas and Postmen
I am sitting here in front of my Microsoft Surface (a.k.a lifesaver and most constant companion) with an empty cup of tea and some chocolate to my right. It is 12.25pm, I am unwashed and undressed and I feel very happy. Long live school holidays. Should probably go to wash off the stench fairly soon however.
I also have some very uplifting, ‘good-vibe’ music playing in the background. Every so often I am nodding my head along to the beat.
A perfect morning.
Perhaps I should stipulate that although I am undressed I am wearing pyjamas. Just in case you haven’t been able to read past that.
I feel like a naughty child skipping school. I watched TV over breakfast, hand my breakfast on the coffee table, I have had two giant mugs of tea and - shock, horror! - two pieces of chocolate *between meals*. But best of all I have given myself an unlimited number of hours to do happy, creative things such as update my blog, rework a short story I wrote last Christmas, write down my intentions for the day (apparently that’s a very evolved, conscious-living thing you’re supposed to do these days if you want to have a good day!) and do a yoga session without rushing through it so I can finally sit down to my dinner after a long day at work.
Said ‘good-vibe’ music has stopped. Must bop over to remedy the situation.
Perfect writing-conditions resumed.
Where was I going with this? Oh yes, enjoying a day of nothingness to get my creative juices flowing.
My very first intention for today (listen to me, sounding like one of those blogger gurus or something!) is to not feel guilty for doing very little. Guilt can often be a problem which I feel gets in the way of my creativity. Because my life can get so busy, at times I crave relaxation over getting more done, even creative projects which I enjoy. The problem is then that I cannot enjoy my relaxation - which I need in order to be creative and also function as a sane, non-murderous human being - because I feel guilty for not being creative every second I get outside of work.
Guilt is a slippery, slimy snake with spiders’ legs and a cockroach’s belly. It prevents me from achieving what I would like. Because the more I feel guilty for not doing anything, the less I am likely to do. I’d rather conveniently forget about working on my story/ song-writing/ painting for an evening than have to deal with the relentless voices that tell me I haven’t done enough, and that what I do isn’t good enough. There we go; the crux of the issue.
It is tricky being an artist. You are your own worst critic, and therefore the only thing that is really standing in your way between you and success is… you!
Also it can be tricky to define success in such a goal-orientated world. Does success mean fame? Money? A million likes on social media? Shouldn’t success be based on less tangible things such as personal happiness and putting a smile on someone else’s face?
Thoughts to ponder on. Now I shall get back to doing my yoga in my pyjamas and hoping that the postman won’t turn up at the window.