My day off

My day off has come and gone, and I wasted it.

I had big plans, a noble to-do list, and a good night of sleep on my side. Yet, nothing much happened.

I wanted to get some things done and then enjoy the rest of my day. I planned on writing, getting outside, and being creative. I imagined I’d go to bed that night feeling quite pleased with myself.

But my tasks daunted me. I procrastinated doing them, and some of them I never did.

Come afternoon, I still wanted to write. I had my pen and notebook and a steaming cup of tea beside me. It started well enough, but, after five sentences, I thought of everything else I should be doing.

Creativity comes with boredom, they say. But how can one be bored in a world that is built to stress us out and keep us working?

It’s conflicting. I know my worth is not based on my career, my education, my finances, my living situation–and I don’t much value these things myself–yet I can’t let my mind rest and wander enough to do something anywhere near unique.

So the question is–and I think Charles Bukowski pondered this in much the same way–are there certain conditions and lifestyle criteria a person must meet to be creative? Do you need a certain level of comfort in order to breed creativity?

The answer must be dependent on the person, but, in general, I think it to be “yes.”

But now, how exactly do you define and establish these conditions?

And then from there, how do you stabilize these conditions without using all your hours on their maintenance?

To me, either way, it seems that creation would be a highly unlikely and miraculous thing.

Creatives must be self-disciplined in a way that goes against their own art.

It’s a hard life. Somehow you must be content with the little you are able to accomplish, while forgetting that there is so much more you didn’t.