For a number of reasons, I have not been working as much lately as I could have been working. I used to organize my days as I saw fit, with long segments set aside for writing and reading and studying and drawing. Now, however, I am once again an employee of somewhere, and while there are no set hours I still have to be somewhere beside where I maybe totally want to be for a good five hours each day. No more putting off writing until I'm in the mood – it is now part of my new evening routine, coming right after supper (and before the grumpies set in). No more mashing pedal into downtown to blog without having written anything yet confident in my ability to pull kazoo and huzzah and whizzbang out of my arse – now I must be prepared, ready, steeled, and focused. On top of writing I am finishing up the homework for yoga teacher's training, reading many books and a thick binder and writing many book and binder reports. But few of my plates are spinning – how on Earth do people it who have children and full-time jobs and significant others and emails and phone calls? I cannot really fathom being so very busy with my life that I could neglect friends and family and acquaintances more than I do, now. In essence, I have tasted a stress-free and productive (though not affluent or all-too exciting) style of living, and I like it. Take your dozen plates and spin them – I'll be just fine eating rice, making art, and bicycling. Aho.
© americanifesto / 場黑麥
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