Avoidance Tactics

6 Mar

Several hours ago, I sat down at my desk in front of my computer. I clicked aimlessly through Pinterest and re-read blog posts I’d starred in my Reader (and saved on Pocket, and oooh! Feedly!) and put on more old episodes of How I Met Your Mother. I also bugged J, who was actually working hard on building a model of the set he designed for Pygmalion, all while I desperately avoided this self-imposed task of writing–creating–a new blog post.

I rearranged my desk, ostensibly to avoid the drip that might materialize during the night since my landlord came to investigate they mysterious stain spreading on our ceiling tile (that’s another story. For now we haven’t found a leak.) and wound up removing the tile above my desk. I stuck my face in Saffron’s face and scratched behind her ears. I stared at my own face in the mirror for way too long, cataloging all my various imperfections. I checked Facebook and Twitter and Tumblr and Facebook again. I  looked at my knitting in progress (I taught myself a few weeks ago! Go me!), but since crafting is also an act of creation, I can’t very well do THAT. Instead, I consumed.

I want to be creative. I’m pretty sure I am a creative person, actually. I was as a kid. I mean, most kids are, and the theory is that adults are, too, they’ve just learned to suppress their creativity in favor of conformity. I used to draw all the time, and write. I’d trace characters from storybooks and collage them together to create visuals for my own stories. I’ve absolutely retained that magpie tendency, but now I hoard bookmarks in Chrome and starred blog posts in Reader and regular books, too, some of which I don’t actually read because, well…

A few titles in my library. I've read three of these books.

A few titles in my library. I’ve read three of these books.

I’m not sure where my creative aptitude lies, and even if it turns out I have a talent for some creative venture–writing, or maybe design (boy, typing that was scary. Even admitting that I might be interested in such a thing was so very, very scary)–could I have the balls to pursue it? I can pick up a book on a subject I think might interest me, but there are some I’ve had for years without cracking the covers.

I’d rather continue to consume–pins things to my boards and read other people’s blogs and maybe take an online class in coding a website (but avoid the homework! wouldn’t want to actually produce anything!). I watch a ridiculous amount of tv for someone who doesn’t have cable, and I spend hours upon hours in front of computer screens every day, not producing anything, just consuming more content. Numbing, in other words. Avoiding something I may want to do, because even wanting something scares me at this point.

I’ve been reading a lot of Steven Pressfield and Brené Brown lately, and even listening to a podcast of Oprah’s 10 part webinar with Eckhart Tolle for her “Spirit” channel on XM radio, so I KNOW what this is. Resistance. Fear of vulnerability. It’s “me” struggling against my “self”, if you’re into Tolle’s teachings.

Even these journals are mostly blank!

Even these journals are mostly blank!

But knowing what this is doesn’t make sitting down to do the work less scary, especially since I don’t have a defined end goal. I don’t know what I want out of this blog. I don’t really even know what I want out of this life. I certainly don’t know what I want out of my career. So why am I even doing this?

I guess to try and figure it out. To find my voice, or talent, or develop a passion for one of the things that right now, I’m only curious about and deathly afraid of actually saying out loud that I might want to pursue.

Thanks for stopping by today, and I apologize if this post is a bit of a downer. I’m still trying to figure out a lot of things, especially how to live with all this confusion.

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