It's not that I'm out of ideas. Perhaps I have too many.
It's not that I don't feel like writing. The click of the keys is as satisfying as ever.
I just feel... drained. A bit disenchanted. A bit like I have my hands in way too many pots.
I taught a musical theatre class today: 2 hours of full on singing technique, choreography, and acting from inner choices, with 7 kids in social distance squares and masks. Dance and song is as lovely an option as ever, though the prospect of Broadway and regional theaters being shut down for the foreseeable future is too depressing to think about. I have dance projects on film ready to be edited but, I'm stalling.
I have so much to write and read. I sometimes wish I didn't need to eat. I could use that time for creative prep and flow. I understand now why people in Hollywood use cocaine and adderall just to function in their careers. This advanced age of tech and efficiency wasn't exactly made for us squishy, sensitive humans.
I could probably stop saying Yes to everything. Saying No sucks but I have 20 inquiries from friends and clients for free or cheap work of some kind. I have this old paradigm of feeling honored just to be thought of, and so I'm typically underpaid and overworked. I need to ask for a raise from Dance Plug. I need to utilize timers for free tasks. I need to streamline my emails and dm's. I need to find time to relax.
I have so much to give and I genuinely would like to give it all. It's like my brain has been trained to think of the best possible actions/ideas for the people around me. But there's no true satisfaction to be had from threading in and out of every schedule but my own. I was so excited to make my weekly schedule... I keep forgetting to follow it. Good old resistance. Same old habits.
I think... I need to just write, and read, and chill for the rest of the week. And garden a bit. If you are waiting on me for time and plans that involve uncompensated work on my end, I'm afraid you may be waiting longer. Gotta refill the old creative energy well. Gotta value myself more true to spec. Even if that means not taking little jobs for $35, $50, and $100 here and there--these gigs, as fun and fulfilling as they can be, work out to less than minimum wage when you factor in prep and travel time. Kids mow lawns for these rates. I have a consistent, cheerful output of creativity, patience, and flexibility, and when you don't see me I'm busy learning even more things. It's time to see value in that. Just because I write a half-decent blog every day doesn't mean I can do everything you want from me for free. These blogs are low-stakes, high-discovery practice sessions for what I see as a long, diverse career. These blogs are self-discipline. Just look at everything I worked out for myself in this 2 minute read. These blogs are life-giving, perspective-changing, purpose-branding nuggets of Loosh truth.
I titled this piece, 'Writer's Block', because I actually started three other blogs before I landed on this meandering route of inspiration. 'Comfort food', 'music jams', and 'too much empathy' will all have to wait, in lieu of this. Because life isn't always a perfect anecdote in a sleek box. Life is often a nagging sensation, a messy process to work out as best you can before the day is done.
I wish you room for kindness toward your own messy process.