How Not to Do It
A few ways:
1. Backburner that thing, dream, idea, plan you’ve had running around in your head since you were ten, twelve or twenty.9. Make a criteria of what things need to be in place before you can begin.
22. Be devastated when there are no marching bands, accolades or public service announcements celebrating your progress and begging you to go on.
28. Eat another cookie.
30. Complain you don’t have enough time. Continue to say yes, when you meant to say no.
32. Refuse to make mistakes. Insist on doing things right the first time.
36. Read Blogs.
(more here)
I was out on a hike this weekend with my friend Josh and we'd been out for a few hours, merrily photographing the shaggy misty mossy Eagle Creek trail, when it started to rain. We stuck it out but ended up spending several hours soaked to the bone below our rain jackets (last time I'll forget the rain pants). At some point along the way, a thought occurred to me: I wonder what birds do when the rains come? How do their nests stay dry? Do they have holes in trees?
The thought of a snug and dry hole in a tree sounded perfect. I imagined myself as a bird and fluffed out my feathers, shifted my feet, felt the smooth wood against my body. I could actually feel all of this, and it startled me, this unfamiliar sensation of placing my consciousness in an entirely imaginary situation.
I'd used my imagination and it startled me. That's a pretty bad sign for creativity.
I spend a lot of time emailing, talking, problem solving, and organizing. I spend time cooking, driving, cleaning, and reading the news. I spend time shopping, drinking, and shooting the shit with friends. But I spend no time allowing my imagination free rein. I don't even remember the last time I picked up a charcoal stick or paintbrush or my mandolin. I might have written a poem in the last 5 years, but I don't know.
This is a problem, and it may have a lot to do with why I'm not really all that happy lately: I never let my mind out to play.
Hell, my body either. We met up with some Dartmouth people in Portland on Sunday and played round after round of screaming toes all over town. Just for kicks. And it was awesome.
I gotta get my imagination and my creativity back on track. End of story.