Writer * Worldbuilder * Life Coach
I’ve been way too busy for my own good lately. Mostly stuff I put on my own plate, so to speak (which is another issue, but not one for today). But the other day, I reminded myself of a great lesson:
We have to make time in our busy lives for our art!
Let’s start with the second half of that first. What is our art? Well, to some in Texas, that means “huntin” (this is similar to hunting, but a little more redneck – and NOT in a bad way). To at least one friend of mine, this means making stained glass. To another, it means writing screenplays. But this does NOT include Facebook games or shopping. There are thousands of things we can do as humans that with effort we can improve at. Learning an instrument or another language. Building furniture. Arranging and decorating rooms. Creating music or writing poetry. Painting wall murals. Assembling culinary masterpieces. Whatever we love to do that we enjoy investing time in and, therefore, getting better at – THAT is our art.
The first part of the statement above is a little more obvious, but more difficult to do. How do we cut time out of our lives to make sure our art is prioritized? However we can, friend. Me? Well, glad you asked. I joined me a choir where I muddle through sight reading and keeping pace with the other singers. It’s sometimes a bit of a trainwreck, and other times (generally out of sheer dumb luck) I hit the right notes at the right times. It kind of feels good to see progress too.
The other night, I really wanted to just relax and boob out (translation: feet up, TV on), but I forced myself through sheer Jedi Mind Will (on myself…) to go to choir practice. Two hours later, after a bit of real focus and work, I realized I felt great. Working at your “art” means investing time in something and recouping experience. Art growth is always a worthy endeavor, and whatever yours may be, it’s often just what is needed to unwind from the stressors of our task-related culture.
So don’t forget it, friend. Make the time to work for whatever art brings you bliss. You’ll thank me later. Or rather, you’ll thank yourself.