“I'll think of it tomorrow, at Tara. I can stand it then. Tomorrow, I'll think of some way to get him back. After all, tomorrow is another day.”
― Margaret Mitchell, Gone with the Wind
“The funny thing about my procrastination was that I was almost done with the screenplay. I was like a person who had fought dragons and lost limbs and crawled through swamps and now, finally, the castle was visible. I could see tiny children waving flags on the balcony; all I had to do was walk across a field to get to them. But all of a sudden I was very, very sleepy. And the children couldn't believe their eyes as I folded down to my knees and fell to the ground face-first, with my eyes open. Motionless, I watched ants hurry in and out of a hole and I knew that standing up again would be a thousand times harder than the dragon or the swamp and so I did not even try. I just clicked on one thing after another after another.”
― Miranda July, It Chooses You
“If you ask me, reincarnation is just another way to procrastinate.”
― Chuck Palahniuk, Lullaby
“I know love is begun by time,
And that I see, in passages of proof,
Time qualifies the spark and fire of it.
There lives within the very flame of love
A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it.
And nothing is at a like goodness still.
For goodness, growing to a pleurisy,
Dies in his own too-much. That we would do,
We should do when we would, for this “would” changes
And hath abatements and delays as many
As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents.
And then this “should” is like a spendthrift sigh
That hurts by easing.”
― William Shakespeare, Hamlet
“This idea comes to you, you can see it, but to accomplish it you need what I call a "setup." For example, you may need a working shop or a working painting studio. You may beed a working music studio. Or a computer room where you can write something. It's crucial to have a setup, so that, at any given moment, when you get an idea, you have the place and the tools to make it happen. If you don't have a setup, there are many times when you get the inspiration, the idea, but you have no tools, no place to put it together. And the idea just sits there and festers. Overtime, it will go away. You didn't filfill it--and that's just a heartache.”
― David Lynch, Catching the Big Fish: Meditation, Consciousness, and Creativity
Despite this lovely dive into the world of procrastination, I am trying to actually gain some control over my urge to escape. Daydreaming about moving away, to some place where the cost of living is cheaper, does not mean I am going to do it; not right away, anyhow, though I do admit to checking out a book about Baltimore this week (and a book about Volunteer Vacations last week). I daydream about new places all the time. And for your information, I also checked out The Cheap Bastard's Guide to Chicago, too. (Also, though Baltimore looks pretty, I have actually never been there and it does worry me, ever-so-slightly, that the only two TV shows to take place there, apparently, are The Wire and Homicide: Life On The Street). Though I am muddling through some enormous depression, I am still a generally optimistic human being, and I have not given up on rediscovering all that I fell in love with about Chicago. I am reminded of it in flickers with the arrival of fall, the autumn light and the colorful, crunchy leaves. Soon it will be winter and there will be silver snow (well, until it's packed and gray on the sides of the streets) and the very magical German market will be setting up downtown. There will be days of bundling in layers and sipping cider, reading books and, I hope, getting a little lost, in a good way.
My therapist and I talked a bit today about my constant need to keep lists. To keep things straight, check things off as I got them done -- a way that I feel productive. But he posed an interesting question that I realized that I don't have an answer to: when am I done? What would mark the completion of things? Because, when it comes down to it, I don't remember exactly when I started making lists. But I don't think I kept them during that period of my life when I was feeling things more intensely and being more present with myself. Now, I do it because I truly feel like I have to, and there is some anxiety behind that. Maybe even a connection to my anxiety getting worse over the years and this semi-muted, slightly numb version of life I have been living. Wow. Well, anyway, that got personal. I think I should end this here. Leave me love in the comments if you wish. I'm am rich in love, I think, but I could always stand a little more. :)