Squeezing Time and Letting Go

Where does the time go? Yesterday I was so blue about all the time I spend at work – 45 hours a week. After the day is over I feel like I have nothing left. I work hard. No creative energy/stuck physical energy = no good. I have to move my body to push the sadness out.

Tom told me I’d feel better after a ride, and of course, he was right. It wasn’t too cold – we did hill repeats (I did three, he did five) up a very steep street by the railroad tracks. Endorphins and exhaustion are often good remedies for anything that ails me. My legs hurt today.

Performing with The Halfbreeds, 1996. Francis Didonato on guitar. Photo by George Tiboni.
Performing with The Halfbreeds, 1996. Francis DiDonato on guitar. Photo by George Tiboni.

I looked at the full moon last night and thought about painting and writing, and how when I was in a band I managed to paint and write and rehearse and work and go to school – and now – I am lucky if I can squeeze out maybe an hour of writing a day, go to work, and ride my bike. (Of course, when I was capable of juggling so much, I was about twenty years younger and I lived in New York, and, I had a creative community where feedback was immediate so the work was energizing). I asked the moon to give me the strength and energy to follow through with my creative ideas while still having time for relationships and work.

When I ride I get clarity on things. Last night it became clear to me that I am afraid that if I have a career as an artist (and/or writer), I will not be able to maintain a love relationship. That fear has got to go! For me, career is part of my identity. Since last spring, I’ve stopped pushing creative work; I’ve been reevaluating what is important to me. Mostly, I’d rather cook and enjoy a shared meal, or stay in bed lying close to my man, than carve out the time for art. It’s been good to relax, though sometimes I feel like I’ve found myself in the middle of deep water with no land in sight. Maybe I am overfilling the well!

The longing to create is surfacing. “What next?” is the big question – why does it scare me? How do I make art a fun part of my life again?

Today I feel more open and hopeful. I feel alright about acknowledging the things that need balance and improvement – now I can take action. I edited the final three poems in a manuscript I’m submitting to a writing program. Two were attempts I began while taking a class with Nada Gordon at the Poetry Project, and another was from a journal entry.

And now I am taking baby steps. I came across two affirmations yesterday that are working for me:

There is always enough time for everything.

Everything happens in the right time.

I made this one up:

I surrender all fear to the healing power of love.

“What next?” is going to be fun.

Of course I can’t look ahead without looking back. I made a video a few years ago to go with some basic tracks of a song I recorded with my 90s band, The Halfbreeds. It’s a cover of Roky Erikson’s Slip Inside This House. The band was recording an album, when the project came to a halt. We never released it, nor got past basic tracks. This is a reminder that I don’t ever want to leave a creative project unfinished again.

So, on I go to, “What next?”

Om shanti.