As all things go, all things grow; even if into a circle upon a circle upon a circle where the lines drawn only seem to thicken, deep and dark. The move is forward, however slow.
The past week fulfilled most outside obligations for the next two weeks. My jobs now resting for a short winter break, their demands and their delights holding steady. They are now but errant thoughts to whim and wish as to how they’ll be approached and what comes next. A good place to be.
In ways they hinder and help creatively. Interactions and experience gift new thoughts and possibilities yet to be mined for the treasures they release. Practically, though, there is time taken from practice. I’ve folders of forgotten premises, little blissful voids that have no open room, there just isn’t the space.
But it’s important to note what is done, in such a way, the waves of rest and work and play. What happens in moments we won’t soon forget, what interactions we have, conversations we participate or eavesdrop in. Words and actions form stories as thought and care in how well they’re received and taken.
So, we’re always doing too much that’ll probably never be recognized. Judged for the lack of accomplishment, as what can’t be seen is quick to be disregarded. Inner growth is a charm that usually arrives too late as the battles with our inner demons manifest in reality, the damage often collateral and, often, unexplained as who has time for a history lesson that spans ages past? And yet fewer still have the skill to listen and understand with a mindful, caring, and appreciative will.
So, if you’re reading, good on you for all you’ve done. There’s so much more that you’ve accomplished than could ever be said, and probably more that can but probably cannot properly be shared.
How this impedes is, oh, how only we know.
With the rant out of the way, My accomplishments were great but little. I’ve been doing a 12 days of Halloween before Christmas thing on Instagram, filled with quirky quips and melodramatic delights. So far each day has been met, some closer to the next day than I’d like. I’ve managed three days of writing my new book, a list of new ideas and standup bits, a few sketches, some doodles but nothing fleshed, and put in a lot of work into a family photo yearbook.
I’ve been overwhelmed by other people’s cares and distraught states. And probably will be for quite some time. Until then, Works will slow in the name of self-preservation, feeling, and endurance. Final products ways off from being measured by hearts of gold.
Originally published at http://lifeinthejon.wordpress.com on December 20, 2021.