Tomorrow...

A few months ago I left one of my two jobs so I could focus on the upcoming shows with the vaudeville troupe that I perform with. During the show I caught a horrid cold and while I made it through the run, the week following I battled serious levels of exhaustion. It was nearly two weeks before any sense of normal began to return.

Since then I feel I’ve been knocked off my tracks. I’ve been derailed with my caboose pointing to the north and my engine is tipped on its side blocking the southbound rails. Nothing is moving.

Maybe it’s because I’m still playing catch up from falling behind on nearly everything: rescheduled appointments, chores, rehearsing, and writing but maybe it’s because now that this busy season is done I find myself with a huge amount of spare time and I don’t know what to do with it.

When I was out of my mind busy, working two jobs, going to school and prepping for a show what little free time I had was very valuable. I was able to prioritize the things I wanted to do because I had to and so I made every second count. Now I have the freedom to move and my self-discipline has gone on vacation. “Oh, I’ll have time to do it tomorrow,” has become the phrase of the summer.

Maybe I shouldn’t feel guilty about it. Maybe I should be grateful for this time to sit and not do anything, but I can’t help reminding myself that I’m 40. That statistically I have passed the half way point and being a late comer to pursuing my creative dreams I often feel like I have such a limited amount of time to accomplish great things (and great things are a part of the plan).

I want to do them intentionally, with great care and forethought, without rushing. I should be making lists! I should be crossing things off! I should be in bed by 10:00 and up with the sun ready to create!

…or maybe I should be sitting on restaurant patio, chatting with a good friend, swapping creative ideas and sharing my big, big, dreams.

…or maybe I should be stretched out naked on my bed in front of the air conditioner, my headphones filling my ears with music, with imaginary figures dancing spontaneous choreographies in my brain.

…or maybe I should be sitting here on the couch writing about how I’ve come to confuse stillness with being unproductive.

…or maybe I’ll just think about all of this tomorrow.