I promise this is not an advertisement for a convenience store.
Rather, it’s a rumination on the abundance of creativity in this world and the sadness I have over not being able to consume it all.
I spent the last year or so re-committing to a creative life. Slowly, month after month, spending more time on the things that fill me up (writing class, this blog, running) and letting go of the things that don’t (Facebook, the news, The Real Housewives)
It’s an ever-evolving process, that ebbs and flows between a tight grip on rigid rules around time limits and specific types of content and a free-for-all all down a rabbit hole, subscribing to dozens of podcasts and blogs.
The problem is that there is just too much good stuff…
and it’s overwhelming and a little sad too.
Too many wonderful choices is a good problem to have, and a position of privilege, and still, I can’t shake the loss I feel when my friend starts her sentence with, “I heard on Arm Chair Expert…” Even though she explains the context and I can contribute to the conversation I’m still bummed I missed the episode. I love Arm Chair Expert.
But there are so many other things I love just as much:
There’s a new book out by Line Moriarty, a collection of essays by Ann Patchet, and I want to re-read Shonda Rhymes Year of Yes because I need a year of yes after the last two years of no.
The Great Read from the New York Times looks so good and I saw a cool essay in Catapult about running in Taiwan.
I love the Rich Roll Podcast and The Tim Ferriss Show, but the episodes are usually two-plus hours and I don’t always have the time.
There are so many good stories to consume and be consumed by.
And what about my own creations?
Right now I am choosing to write this blog post, but I could have spent this time editing an essay about an Easy Button for my writing class or outlining another about ditching New Year’s resolutions and opting for a project instead that I want to pitch to magazines.
I have an idea for a memoir about how I ran every street in Santa Barbara. I have an idea for a novel, actually a few novels.
I can write them all, but only one at a time, and what happens if I run out of time like Sue Grafton never finished Z is for Zero? What if the story leaves me Elizabeth Gilbert’s did when she gave her story idea to Ann Patchett with a kiss? I guess I could just avoid kissing people?
I wish there was an extra pocket of enrichment hours to read, write, or create but there is no upgrade, no bonus PDF in exchange for an email, no coupon code for referring a friend.
Last week, Modern Mrs. Darcy pointed her readers towards an essay from NPR from 2011 called, “The Sad Beautiful Fact That We’re All Going to Miss Almost Everything.” The author concludes that, “well-read” does not mean to read everything, but rather to make “a genuine effort to explore thoughtfully.”
Essentially, wear it all like a loose garment.
