i have been meditating on a certain phrase for a few days now: wanting to write vs. actually writing. i have been thinking about it because i want to write every single day. every day, i think about writing. not even updating this blog - just writing for me.
and i don't. i don't even keep a journal. i don't write at all, ever. i even stopped trying to write good e-mails.
this has been disturbing me this year. i have been in hot pursuit of a craft project for at least a year. i have tried crochet, knitting, sewing, paper crafts, even counted cross-stitch. i am rolling my eyes as i type this. i have felt this need to create something tangible. something i could hold up to someone and say, as nonchalantly as possible, "i made that." here's the kicker: i never stuck with ANY of those crafts.
about two weeks ago, i had a revelation that caused me to pack my sewing machine away in a rubbermaid tote. the creating that i really love? i already know how to do it - at least at a higher level of mastery than these crafts i have been pursuing. i love writing. i love taking pictures. yet, at some point, i allowed myself to start thinking a few weird thoughts about my crafts.
first, i started thinking that other crafts are better. i can largely attribute this to the fact that i was subscribed to about 30 craft blogs through google reader. i started getting jealous that i didn't know how to quilt or knit or make a cake stand from a tree trunk.
second, i started doubting my own abilities. probably because of my lack of practice, i decided that i was not a good writer. and i know that i am just an ok photographer - i just score the occasional lucky shot. but i just decided that it wasn't worth it to keep trying. that a higher level of mastery was out of my reach.
third, i made a choice when it came to spending my time. i would sit in front of my laptop, feel a compulsion to write... and go surfing the web, as the kids used to say. check my e-mail. my bank balance. my facebook account. my message boards. anything to distract myself from practicing the craft i decided to give up on (even when it refused to give up on me. more on this later.).
and when i realized this pattern, well - that brings me to this post. because after a week or so of straight meditation on this topic, here is my revelation, as it has come to me this monday morning.
and in this, i realize that every perceived failure i am feeling bad about right now - not writing, not eating as well as i could be, not working out regularly - is simply the result of a choice that i made to spend my time somewhere else. time is just like money. if you don't budget it, at least for the essentials, then you won't have enough.