During these fallow off-seasons, we have to do some very hard work.
And the hardest work of all, maybe, is not doing the wrong work.
Because doing some work, any work, can feel very tempting at such times. We're conditioned to be busy 24/7. To be productive. To get things done. To make progress. To move forward. To push on. Not just to "task," to multitask.
The mere fact that these phrases are so familiar speaks to how powerful these impulses are in our culture.
That's why I say that if we tell the truth, we all secretly love clutter. Not physical clutter, but time clutter, work clutter, creativity clutter, social clutter, media clutter. On some level, most of us love filling up our to-do lists, cramming our lives and time full to bursting. We love it because it makes us feel normal. Worthwhile.Needed. Safe.
Or maybe that's just me. Either way, I see a lot of that kind of that "busywork" as I look back on my life. In my defense, I didn't know it was "filler" at the time. I had lots of "good reasons" for doing it. And I'm proud to say that I did some of it, even lots of it, very well.
But doing the not-quite-right work well doesn't make it any less wrong.
I think it takes an odd kind of courage, in modern America, to refuse the clutter, to wait for clarity or the "real thing," to sit with our own emptiness.
To embrace the space, not give in to the clutter.
To trust that the creative well will fill up again, that the path will appear, that the daffodils will bloom.
I'm not very good at it yet. But I'm trying.
No comments:
Post a Comment