Tuesday’s are the days I write blog posts. Usually because I have time while in transit. Thursday’s are leg days at the gym. Saturday’s are dancing and costuming days. Monday’s I watch the sunrise… except yesterday, where I opted to go home after the gym and go back to sleep because my body was so fatigued from the week before.
It seems like such a sensible choice, but I really battled with making that call. I questioned if I was just being lazy, I was already awake, right?
But the routine of it means that it isn’t an organically enjoyable experience. Yes, it is pleasant every week and the quiet time is such a blessing, but do I HAVE to do it? Of course not. Monday’s I have a lot of flexibility and if I need to rest, why not do that instead?
This is an old dichotomy of mine. Am I genuinely in need of rest, or am I looking for a way out? Probably a bit of both. In the past I have often used a need for rest as a way to jump off the wagon long term. I have also over worked myself because I don’t know when to stop.
I turn so many things into a routine or a program, something to be completed with tangible signs of completion. As I work on my artistic processes, I can see how stifling and anti-productive this habit is. Great for work and material goals, suffocating and counter intuitive to anything creative.
I see creativity as something fluid, something that moves and flows as it needs to. Every time I try to set x amount of hours to work on a project, or set tasks against other markers like I do at work, my desire and patience to create just dries up. And those are the times when I want to just go and sit in front of Netflix and eat donuts. I’m beginning to see a pattern that I comfort seek when my sense of freedom is blocked.
Anyway, I wrote this today more for me than for whoever is reading it, and ideas are starting to take shape. It’s a good feeling to start to believe that I don’t have to fit into a routine in order to just be me. Even if I did write this on a Tuesday.