Time-waster?

Extraordinary.

Extraordinary how quickly it happens.

The guilt.

How it catches us out. Creeps up on us sideways and jabs us in the ribs, just as we were beginning to relax.

Until Easter, on top of my regular work, I had been flat-out for a full year on an extra freelance project, a fascinating privilege of a project. I loved it, thrived on it, felt honoured to be involved. However, it kept me so busy that many other things (um… sorry housework!) were put on hold. I kept up with my normal ongoing work of course, but could only do the bare minimum, and mostly, any personal creativity was unceremoniously dumped on the back burner.

While I loved this project, I yearned a little for that space to create my own things again.

When it came to an end, I spent a week after Easter busily catching up on some other editing work and then, finally, here was the space I had longed for.

Beautiful, glorious free time.

Think of all those things I had lined up to do with it. Things I had missed and dreamed of doing. It was going to be just wonderful!

It took precisely one week - One Week - to start feeling guilty that I’m working less than other people. And it’s not even that I’m not working, I’m just back to my normal shorter hours.

Immediately the resistance came trooping in, waving their familiar flags of judgment, reminding me that probably none of the things I’d put on hold were worth doing anyway. Predictably, a familiar thought popped into my mind: ‘maybe I should go and get a normal job? Be a normal person?’

Oh, the temptation is so strong. The resistance to working on my own creative projects, now that I finally have a little time, is overwhelming. How dare I give them any importance? How selfish! How wasteful of me!

But I had promised myself this: to be more available to family during exam season; to revamp my long-neglected website and to sort out my messy straggly email list…not to mention catching up on smaller commissions from elsewhere. To do some art, simply for relaxation and enjoyment and without caring about the results.

More than all those things though, this time was set aside to get back to my long-abandoned, half-written book of seaside stories for those struggling with vocations and work-life balance (It’s niche…I can explain!).

So, I am having to remind myself, and maybe this is a reminder for others too, that the busy seasons come, and we deal with them, even thrive in them. But when we are gifted a little chunk of free time, why not give ourselves permission to enjoy it as the gift it is? Don’t throw it back in the Giver’s face saying ‘I can’t possibly accept this’.

Like we don’t deserve it

And yes, it might turn out that all my projects dissolve into dust, that they don’t work out or nosedive embarrassingly, but it is still worth turning aside from the busyness and just trying. It is still worth taking this time to read and reflect and create.

It’s painful. This glorious free time. It’s painful because I’m opening myself up to all sorts of consequences. What if I just fritter the time away? What if nothing works?

Failure keeps poking its head around the door with raised eyebrows and a chirpy ‘I’m right here! Ready when you are!’

I’m learning to give it a cheery wave back and carry on. I know at some point it might come right in and sit with me. Nudging me rudely to the edge of the seat. And then I will have to let it. Just sit.

The fear of that cannot stop me now.

And nor should it you.