I’ve been drowning in a birdbath*, you guys.
For three years, I’ve been in and out of triage: bought a house, had another kid, got a job. Whether it was up till 3 a.m. painting the rental in my third trimester or up at 11, 12, 2, and 4:30 with a puking baby, my default mode has been On. And not that nice bright, incandescent on. More of a twitchy, anxious flicker.
So I haven’t quite known how to handle the space that has come with, well, stability.
I’ve been having lulls that last longer than 5 minutes, and I’m not feeling routinely on the verge of cracked out. Bonus!
Trouble is, I’ve built up a life based on a bunch of cracked out habits like nightly TV binges, drinking too much and staring at the wall anytime the kids are occupied or sleeping.
It’s left me bored and sometimes depressed inside a life that’s pretty darn ok. Death by birdbath.
I’ve been in a small-child-induced coma.
But not today! Because see? I’m sitting here on a bench at the Y after my dance class and writing this instead of staring into space for the 10 minutes before I have to go pick up Cal.
Turns out there’s more space in my life. And what requires empty space in order to exist? Ideas. Creative Impulses.
What if the boredom and even depression whose butts I’m all proud of kicking are actually a source of aliveness?
A sign of creativity yet to come.
What if the crumbs that collected on my sweatshirt as I binge watched 6 episodes of Transparent actually incubated the creative burst I’m having right now?
Well, kids, if that’s the case, I think we have a game-changer on our hands.
When in their midst, it is near impossible to feel the value of boredom or depression. But here I am, close on their heels, with ideas and vitality bursting out of my ears.
Every living thing has a dormant phase before it blossoms.
And apparently, so do I.
*This simile (and occult inspiration) brought to you by Jessa Crispin in her new, kick ass book, The Creative Tarot. It’s brought tarot cards to life for me, and I’m not looking back.