I often find myself overwhelmed with all the beauty and inspiration online. I go through waves where I find it inspiring and captivating, to other times where it leaves me with a feeling that everything has been done before and that I have nothing unique to add.
My life is often filled, literally, with piles of laundry that we have to step over in the upstairs hallway. The garbage does not get taken out and needs it badly. My baby weight persists around my middle. My boxes remain unpacked from our move a year ago, and my countless photographs remain unorganized and chaotically saved on an external hard drive, some compact discs, and flickr. I long for organization, for pretty photo albums, for an outer reflection of the internal constant creativity that is going on.
But then instead, I sleep. I have dizzy spells. I curl up under a blanket and wish it were not so cold and gray outside. I daydream. Does anyone else have this problem?
Lately it has been sparked by reading some of my favorite blogs. For example, on Pacing the Panic Room recently, there was a post where Cole is adorably riding a bicycle and the theme is "Do What You Love." The same blog talks frequently of things like how when the couple met, they determined neither would give up their dreams just to be able to pay the bills. I read that and think how they are lucky, beautiful, and living a dreamy life. Lucky. I watch the video with the adorable song (by the band Rabbit!) that is the score and think, bah! I similarly read the posts on Soule Mama where she is fixing up and painting her new beautiful farmhouse and I think, bah! And I also think, I want that too, but I want it mine.
Does this attitude make me jaded?
I think that what it really makes me is tired. Tired of the bills that haven't disappeared. Tired of having no choice but to continue at the job that pays the bills. The job that is sometimes very rewarding, but not the same as living the dream.
And then, if am even more honest, it is the constant busy-ness that spurs me to dream. If I had endless free time, if I had an endless budget and no duties - parental or work-related or whatever - then I think I would not have the drive to create and work towards something lovely and inspiring. Something to give my life meaning.
My normal course is to find the beauty in every day. To find meaning in the slightly squinty eyed smile I get from my toddler. From the exuberant excitement of my three-year-old trying on her new rainbow dress. From making something deliciously satisfying to eat and to feed my family. These things are undeniably great.
But still I yearn. To make something greater than myself. To get the thoughts out.
This is where my newfound obsession with writing a book is coming from. And I am determined to work it into evenings and weekends. To cram it into the spaces where I could be just relaxing and daydreaming, or reading lovely blogs about others pursuing their dreams.
And when it is done, it won't be picture perfect. But at least I can have the satisfaction of following through. And of persisting even when it seems so impossible.