Every morning it feels as though my brain has one quick burst of AH-HA! I'm awake! I'm inspired! The muse has arrived! I have so much I want to do/say/tell! Do! Say! Tell! Oh hell. It's gone. And then, well, it's gone. That quick burst of energy or insight or motivation or whatever the hell it is is gone. Where in the world does it come from and where in the world does it go and how in the world can I get it to stay juuuust a few minutes longer? Maybe this is why people do things like drink 18 cups of coffee before noon. I already kind of do that, though. Maybe the trick is to not drink any coffee? Pssh. Yeah, right. Maybe the REAL trick is that there is no trick and that I should just let it go. Who cares if I become a mass of dullness (a dull mass of nothingness? nothing but a dull master of nothing but boringness? boringness is not a word, and at one time "word" was also not a word) for the rest of the day after my brief glimpse into the world of awareness and cleverness and -ness words are really annoying me right now. You too? Good. We're in agreement. We agree. We totally get one another. Let's be best friends. Forever.
I need to stop dwelling on my little hangups before they turn me into a crazy person. How do I become that kind of person who is just, like, "Whatever! YOLO! I drink wine on my veranda and write sweet notes to the old ladies at the nursing home and sometimes I even wear funky hats into town and everyone thinks I'm so charming and approachable and here, darling, here's a glass of wine as well. I love your outfit, sweetie. Let's go get our nails done." In other words, how do I just reeeelax and live a relatively carefree existence? And what exactly is a veranda? Should I spend my time reading about the history of the veranda on Wikipedia? Please tell me! No, I'm kidding. You don't need to tell me anything other than "relax."
Ugh, I guess meditation is obviously the answer, huh? Not "ugh" in a "I hate meditation" kind of way. "Ugh" in a "I've known how to help myself all along, but I just wanted a super quick fix" kind of way. If I just shut up for a second and listen to my "inner self," I would know that doing meditation and yoga, eating a balanced diet, having NO stimulants (sorry, 18 cups of joe), serving others, and simply drinking water would probably turn my life around and turn me into that YOLO lady on the veranda with not wine, but, like, a green smoothie or oolong tea.
So why don't I just do these things? Well, easier said than done, for starters. And I've always been a little bit suspicious of this self-improvement business. Those self-help sections at the bookstore are tempting, very tempting, but they can also lead to failure/not measuring up, which leads to more self-hatred, which leads one back to the self-help section to purchase more books and try newer, shinier plans for a newer, shinier self, which will just be another set up for disappointment, which keeps the cycle going and going and going and I'm exhausted just typing this.
I also think that a part of me holds on to this "troubled self" because it feels more honest -- and because I believe it is part of a creative life. I don't want to feel wonderful and content because then I will lose that rich tension in my art, whatever the hell that means. It might be juvenile (and dangerous) for me to think this way, but I can't help it.
Oh, fine. I'll start meditating again.
What do you do when you get caught in this trap of wanting to get better, but also wanting to hold on to your neuroses? No, really -- I want to know what you do. Should we all just log off, close our computers, and meet each other for a glass of Merlot on the veranda? Wonderful. We are in agreement. We agree. BFF.