A few weeks ago, a friend told me that he was proud of me. It was a very odd feeling. I've always been fiercely individual. My work ethic tends to lean "nose to the grindstone" as opposed to "squeaky wheel gets the oil." I often found myself getting passed over for recognition because I don't really seek it. I am not patting myself on the back, just making an observation - honestly, I have found this to be a weakness in many fields, the inability to sell yourself.
The friend who complimented me works with inner city children in Texas. He is an art teacher who started his own after school program for at-risk youth. He just finished his master's degree.
Here I am, one step above a college dropout with a messy ponytail eating a molasses cookie for breakfast blogging at 10:30 in the morning on a weekday. I don't think I am a poster child for success.
The show opens tonight. We don't feel ready to me. Things will be fine - we have some really great actors, and it's a funny script - but I don't feel that this show is up to my standards as a director/producer, and I am disappointed in myself. I miscast a few people, which I haven't ever done before. Our time frame was really tight before we had several setbacks, and it's really difficult working with so many volatile personalities (who are all volunteering or donating to us... so the question of how much to demand is always at the back of my mind.)
In all the bustle of the last couple of weeks, I have been neglecting the garden. (As a side note, I don't know what to call it - urban homestead sounds pretentious and clunky, but garden brings up images of old ladies in sun hats cultivating hydrangeas...) Some of the herbs are looking downright wilty, and the strawberries are dead and gone. I'm worried that the cherry tomatoes aren't getting what they need, and the pea trellis needs to be finished NOW. I have no idea how people manage a full time job and a full time farm (although I do think one full time job would be easier than three creative part time jobs.)
I am frustrated with the Housemate. He lives like a pig, and the dog keeps getting into his room because he can't seem to figure out how to shut the door after himself. The last time the dog apparently ate 25 bone-in chicken wings. He could have died. He still might. The thought of losing him is scary enough, but the reaction from Housemate was more of anger at the DOG. The dog can't open doorknobs. If your room is being accessed, it's because you aren't closing the door all the way. I hate when people don't just admit that they were wrong and try to be proactive about solutions to the problem. They have to dance around the issue and try to shirk off blame. It has been happening in a lot of areas in my life, so this particular instance is really getting to me.
Photography is a joy. I only hope that I get more business - I worry about expansion. Everyone oohs and aahs over the pictures, but finding the time in their lives to get their own pictures is another story. There is something so immensely satisfying about it... maybe it appeals to the organizer in me. It's like cataloging beauty. Which probably sounds crazy to anyone who doesn't share my particular mix of right and left brained-ness.
I have been utterly neglecting the school. I hope I haven't bitten off more than I can chew. I am already on shaky ground with my skill level...
And all the while, as part of me is working toward this great sense of community, the other part gets nervous when, say, people at the farmer's market start remembering me, or I see kids from the school out and about. Part of me likes the anonymity of being backstage - the hard worker that nobody knows about. I guess it's less pressure. Once you're out there in the spotlight, it's make it or break it time.
I don't really know what the purpose of this post is. I guess in my life I am trying to deprogram myself from being so goal oriented. That sounds odd, as it is what our culture is all about, and I definitely think that micro-goals are important. But the plain fact is, life isn't a race. It's not a game, and there are no winners or losers. We just have to do the best we can with the time we have.
And I don't want to miss anything.
1 comment:
Aw, Jess, this post is sort of hypocritical. You shrug off the idea of being successful, but then in the last paragraph here, you give a pretty good definition of how I view success: Take what you got and make the most of it. And what I've seen in your blog is that you do just that far better than most.
The way you can focus, get inspired by and be excited about all of the small things in life, the truly important things when you boil it down, is so refreshing and uplifting. Our lives never look ideal to us when we hold them up to a magnified mirror, but you are constantly making me smile with your posts, and I find myself even envying you at times. For your endeavors and for your perspective.
Just try to take some time for yourself. Breathe. You'll get through this little slump, and hopefully come out with a newfound energy to tackle all that you are pursuing. I'll pray (in my own way, as I do) that you receive some kind of sign that what you're doing all matters so that you can get the satisfaction you deserve.
And also, I love the line: "Which probably sounds crazy to anyone who doesn't share my particular mix of right and left brained-ness." I totally feel you there!
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