Avoidance Part 2 - I'm TIRED

Oh, PERSONS! This excuse is is universal. I should practice the piano but...I'm TIRED.

I wake up in the morning and before my eyes are fully open, I tell myself that...I'm TIRED.

And so it goes.  Edit my poems? Too tired.  Get out the ukulele. Too exhausted.

A half-hearted swipe over the counter, a push of the broom. STILL tired.

So what do I do about all this tiredness? Sleep? Eat better? Take a walk to encourage blood flow to my "tired" body? HECK, NO!

I lie around, move like a sloth. Nothing gets done and the NEXT day I am even more tired.

Yesterday was one of my tired days. I DID get out the accordion after months of neglect.  (Whoopee!)

At 7:45 pm, I decided to sweep off the back porch. I had been (say it with me) too tired to do it earlier. The back porch looks great by the way. (A "discussion" is ongoing about the sand box. The grand is entering double digits. Does she still need a sand area? Maybe not, but I think I do.)

Suddenly, I was not so tired. And I was awake until 1 am.  But just doing that one chore, gave me...

a Lightbulb moment! I am going to be tired whether I do stuff or not. I am older and the less I DO, the harder it gets to DO anything.  Once I start moving, the fog lifts.

WHY THIS EXCUSE IS POPPYCOCK

If I am so tired that I can't function, it is time for me to consult a medical professional. I have, actually, and there is nothing physically wrong. 

I am not too tired. I am afraid - afraid that any effort to create will fall short of my expectations. So I grab whatever excuse I can come up with. At my age - and in this trying time - being "tired" is an easy quick all-purpose excuse. 

I am not tired. I am resentful. Why should I have to do whatever stupid chore needs to be done when I don't want to? And that resentment spills over into the activities that I actually enjoy. (This is actually Avoidance Part 3. Stay tuned.)

I am not tired. I am waiting. Exactly what I am waiting for has never been clear. But I will receive a sign when the waiting is done.

The answer to all these avoidance techniques is to push through. I know it. You know it. Push through. There are bouquets to build and skies to view and rain to inspire our music. So, tired or not, do ONE beautiful thing.

The world will thank you.

(I wonder if this blog post counts or if I have to do something else. Because, you know, I'm....tired.)

 

Avoidance - Part 1. Who Do I Think I am?

 For Mother's Day, I got a gift certificate to a painting party place. So, yesterday, three generations, (me, my son, my granddaughter), joined other party goers to create paintings.

I do not "art". I don't draw, color, paint with any regularity. I get the art stuff out when D is here and we mess around.

That said, the two hour class was delightful. We each produced a sunlit underwater ocean scene.  There were 8 people in the class and 8 colorful wall-worthy pictures at the end.

It was so much fun that I had to ask myself, why I don't do more visual art-y stuff? 

Because avoidance is one of my real talents, I have a lot of different excuses for not doing things. Visual arts have always been hard for me. So, I understand my reluctance to indulge in them. But I avoid writing and writing has always been something that I WANT to do and do better than a lot of people. (How do I even have the nerve to say that?) And that brings me to Avoidance Excuse #1.

EXCUSE #1.

Who do I think I am?

Art is created by ARTISTS. Am I an artist? Am I? Well? Um. I don't think so.  Am I a writer? I want to be a writer. I have wanted to be a writer for the past 60 years. 

Producing stories or essays or poems or blog posts requires a level of faith that one can put ideas, images, feelings, into words in an engaging way. Who Do I EVEN THINK I Am to imagine that I can do that?

 If I just accept my unworthiness, if I face up to the sheer effrontery of my feeble attempts at composition, then I save myself a lot of trouble AND rejection.

This feeling of misplaced humility(?) is perfect for allowing me to avoid taking action. I am nobody, so I should not write that story or poem. I am a mere inkblot in the copybook of literature. 

WHY THIS EXCUSE IS POPPYCOCK

This excuse makes the assumption that all art is produced for the consumption of others. My two hour dip into painting yesterday showed me that the ACT of creating is enough. Even if no one else ever saw that painting. I brought it into being. And that is enough. 

AND this excuse assumes that artists, writers, etc., are preordained to those positions. The excuse assumes that there is a hierarchy to creators. Yes, some people do have innate abilities that are better than others. But there are a lot of published authors, with wildly popular books, who are merely average at putting words together. Their plots carry the books. Other authors produce simple plots but their fluid writing wins over readers. Asking, "Who do I think I am?" before I even attempt to write ignores the truth that one who writes is a writer, regardless of their talent or skill.

So I wrote this post. Hence, I am a writer.

THAT is who I think I am... well, for now, anyway. 

 

 

BTW, if you are looking for other excuses to avoid following your passions, or trying new things, stay tuned. I have dozens of them.