Second Acts

So I'm about three weeks away from freedom (translation: a job is ending). And I'm finding that I'm exceptionally ready for this chapter to close and for the next one to open before me, fresh and white and clean.

I wanted to work on my book today. I've been in the groove. But instead I had to tend to issues with work, and then issues with trying to get medication, and then issues with medical research (because I'm obsessively needing to understand my diagnoses and how to access the care that I need).

And before I knew it my clock said 4:30, and I felt tired and needed to rest.

And then suddenly it was 5:15 and I needed to cook dinner, which resulted in more dirty dishes than my drying rack could hold.

And I got that all done and decided I needed to take a shower, because I was more tired still and all I wanted to do at that point was step into my purple pajamas and chase relaxation.

And then I put on said purple pajamas and walked into the living room, where my husband was zoned in on a football game, and I thought to myself, what do I actually feel like doing now? Do I want to read a book? Or do I want to do scratch this itch that I've had all day long?

And so, at 8:00pm, here I am.

I really like this blog because it lets me have small bursts of creativity and expression (and practice) without requiring me to really think very hard, which sometimes I just can't do after a long workday. I'm also starting to journal again, which serves the same purpose although in a more cathartic and personal manner. I used to journal so much in my twenties and even as an adolescent, and I've started to miss it lately. So I've been inspired to pick it back up, especially because it spurred a new idea for a book a few days ago.

So many ideas, so little execution sometimes.

I find that I work best either first thing in the morning when my rational brain hasn't overtaken my intuitive side, or late in the day when the moon has risen above the buildings outside my window and that same brain is too tired to get in my way. I know this about myself and so I've had a personal goal, for several years, of devoting one day per week to my manuscripts. One day when I can get up in the morning and know that I have nothing to do but focus on what I want to write.

And this day is coming in a few weeks, I think. The thought of it sort of lights a creative fire where ruins have been smoldering since probably early 2015.

I'm feeling good about 2018 from a personal creativity perspective. I'm determined, and I've set goals that I think I can meet, and I don't expect to be derailed again by two surgeries - although I know I may have bumps in the road and pauses in the flow as I still try to crawl my way back to health stability.

I'm 37 years old now so I'm less inclined to scold myself or to feel despair about not having done what I wish I could have gotten done by now. I'm just focused on doing as much as I can, when I can, and making a conscious effort to move forward toward my dreams.

Plenty of people have a second act in life and I think my second act is just going to be what my first act could have been. Although I suppose you can't have a conclusion without a beginning, so therefore I couldn't be where I am now without what I've already been through.

So maybe the second act was the actual plan all along. Yeah, I like that.