I find it so hard to exist in the moment sometimes. Especially when I’m writing or sleep training or staring at my boring white walls; I want the end goal now, damn it! I want the novel finished, edited, enrobed in a glossy cover and out there making money for me! I want my children to be sleeping through the night and not waking every few hours for no reason! I want to be able to embrace the ‘dark walls’ trend without having to go through the ‘living-room looks like a bomb-site’ bit!
Who was it who said that being alive is basically just dying a little bit more every day? I don’t think that was my brain, though I frequently think similar thoughts. But it’s true; wanting the end goal in any situation is a bit like saying ‘I want to just get it all over and done with and do the being dead bit now, please, because all this bit in the middle is just a bit tedious. I’m impatient, you know? I don’t feel like I’ve achieved anything.’
It’s a really weird way to live. We all do it, but it’s fundamentally flawed.
I’m starting work on a new story at the moment, about a woman who wants to relive her teenage years because she felt that her own were such a disappointment, but when she does get to experience teenage life again, she realises it’s a total mind-fuck. (That wasn’t the word I was going to use, actually, but it slipped out.) Anyway, I wrote the outline this morning and then wrote the first couple of scenes, and then thought, ‘Ugh. This is going to take a long time. I’m still working on the first novel and I technically finished that two years ago. Why can’t it just be done already?’
Then I caught myself. What? Why would I want the thing that I most enjoy doing to be over? I love the act of writing. I love coming up with ideas and pulling almost-tangible characters out of thin air to go and live these adventures. I bloody love putting words in people’s mouths. I’d put ’em in yours, if I saw you. So why on earth am I wishing it was all over already?
Then I realised that what I actually wanted was the freedom to keep doing it. Even whilst I was doing it, I wanted to be doing more of it. The money fantasy…it’s great. It’s unlikely, but it’s a lovely dream. But even if I never made a penny I’d still write, I just love the idea that someone one day might pay so that it can be all I do. But it’s strange to fantasise about doing the thing you are CURRENTLY DOING.
I saw something on Instagram a while ago that captured that feeling of having a beautiful moment, and whilst you are still experiencing that beautiful moment (like a kiss in the rain, or a breathtaking sunset), you are simultaneously experiencing nostalgia FOR THE SAME MOMENT.
I guess what I’m basically saying is we are all screwed up and strange, wanting what we’ve already got but ignoring the magic of it at the same time.
I woke up the other morning and for a second, felt really excited. Like something amazing was going to happen. Then I remembered it was just a random Tuesday, nothing exciting was going to happen. But THEN (I know, it’s a rollercoaster of emotion in my head before 9am) I told myself: No! Something amazing COULD happen! Anything could happen! This is a brand new day, which you are alive to witness, influence and create, and damnit you SHOULD be excited! Every morning!’
This was meant to be a few words to say: let’s all stop being so focused on the end goal and just enjoy the little moments, shall we? They don’t all have to be amazing. Having my hair pulled by my 6 month old isn’t enriching for the soul. Scraping Babybel wax out of the rug isn’t invigorating for my well-being. But in every moment, anything could happen. Everything could change. It might not. But it could.
That’s what makes great stories. That’s what makes great lives.
Off to peel stickers off my laminate wood flooring now. #livingmybestlife