‘I would NEVER do that!’
I was milling around at a winter’s birthday party. The fire was roaring in my friend’s cosy lounge and there were hints of Christmas in the air. Nibbles, good wine, music and games.
And this.
A conversation I had stumbled into which surprised and fascinated me, one which has remained with me for all the years that have passed since.
Even back then, I was already journalling about, and grappling with, the crossover between our dreams and our work. The things ‘we love to do’ and the things ‘we have to do’. The way we spend our time and how much of this can be given to the things we dream of.
Those things.
The things that tug at our coat-tails like a small child, begging for more of our time and attention.
I love what I do now, but as someone who suffered regular bouts of feeling unsuccessful and irrelevant in past work, I have often found myself pondering how our need to achieve and the pressure for productivity can seep into the things we love and somehow steal the joy from them. How this need for accomplishment can weigh down the lightness of dreams with harsh over-expectation and fear. Lots of fear.
Perhaps we can be kinder to our dreams than this?
A couple of years ago, I watched the film ‘Tick Tick Boom’ the semi-autobiographical story of brilliant musical theatre composer Jonathan Larson (who sadly died in 1996). I enjoyed it all, but one line flew out and smacked me in the face. The main character is standing in the café where he works to fund his musical pursuits. Celebrating a landmark birthday without having progressed in his musical career, he says with disdain, something along the lines of, ‘At a certain age, you stop being a creative who waits tables, and become a waiter…with a HOBBY!’
I laughed. With tears in my eyes. Which probably isn’t quite the same thing as crying with laughter. His comment struck a chord at the deepest level. I felt it in my soul. It’s the best kind of comedy. The sort which manages to refine truth into the bare bones of a few pure words. Things we knew but hadn’t named.
It was then that the memory of that conversation, whooshed back to me. Amidst the music and camaraderie, I had got talking to this friend of a friend, someone with a unique take on life. He told me about his wide array of creative interests, things he was obviously gifted at. When I asked him if these were his work however, he was adamant.
‘I would NEVER do that. I would never attempt to get paid for them.’ He vowed fervently. ‘It would totally ruin my hobbies if I tried to make a living from them. It would take all the joy out of them. It would put pressure on them to be ‘good enough’ rather than simply being something I love doing.’
I got his point (he did make it fairly clearly). For him, money would taint his interests. It would make demands on the things he loved and spoil everything. He had literally chosen to be exactly what the film character was terrified of.
These two men, two creatives, were polar opposites. And yet. They did have one thing in common. They knew with an absolutely certainty what they loved, what they wanted to spend their precious time on. They knew it was important. And, one way or another, they made absolutely sure they did it.
One had the ultimate dream of being paid for his creativity so that he could dedicate all his time to it. The other wanted a day job to be the stability from which he could fully enjoy his spare time with creative pursuits. But both ensured they did what they loved.
The problem for me was always time and guilt. Not enough of one. Too much of the other. At the time of that conversation, I was in a season of life when every second of my day seemed to be allocated. I was constantly dashing from the office to school pick-up, on to clubs, to climbing the laundry mountain or whatever else awaited me at home!
When I did get some breathing space, it always felt selfish to use up the cavernous mouthfuls of time which creativity inevitably chomps through on my own seemingly fluffy dreams and enjoyment when there were so many ‘more important and worthy’ things to be done in the world.
It’s a difficult balance for those who want to create (or follow any other passion, for that matter). How do you do it in your spare time when there are always more pressing, things to do? But then, how do you ever delve into the depths, and get to the stage where your creativity feels worthy of such a time commitment, if you haven’t first put in the hours to hone your craft?
The truth is, I don’t know the answer. What I do know is this. Sometimes we have to take a deep breath and let go of the tangly stress that tries to wind itself around our dreams. The fear and guilt that bogs them down. We have to listen to our longings without letting them consume us. We have to hold them lightly, these, our God-given desires, dreams and gifts entrusted to us. Simply enjoy them for what they are and what they may or may not become.
With this in mind, as the year gets going, I come to my long-abandoned blog. I come a little red-faced for the complete lack of action last year. The gift of having a bigger chunk of paid writing work again (for which I really am grateful) has meant my own personal projects have been left to flounder alone somewhat, drifting out to sea with armbands on, before they have properly learned to swim.
But perhaps there is space for both? Perhaps it is, as with all resolutions, about just getting on with it. Trying, failing, trying again. As long as perfectionism is left far far behind, maybe dropped off at some lonely outpost along the way and ‘forgotten’ to be picked up again?
Perhaps too, it’s about treating those things we love as with a bit more care and attention, even when time is short?
So, as I begin this new year, I’m wading out to sea to pull my dreams back in, before they float beyond reach. I might not yet have the time to properly swim with them, but we can at least splash around a bit. Enjoy doing a little at a time
Because, when you do something simply because you love it, wonderful things can happen.
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