He closed his eyes. The dark doors within him opened and he entered. The next performance in the theater of Grenouille’s soul was beginning. ~ Patrick Süskind
Maybe it’s the staid nature of the neighborhood around here, the increasing pressure on some time-sensitive projects at work, or the subtle undercurrent of the kids question, but I’ve been feeling itchy.
Since I began at this school two school years ago, I haven’t participated in any theater. I had to give up my folk duo’s monthly performance because it’s staged late on Sunday evenings, which also meant giving up my weekly practice sessions with my music partner. My piano buddy and I haven’t met since I moved up north. And my own piano stand is in Oakland, while the keyboard is in the attic.
While writing is a creative outlet—and when I blog regularly, it surely helps to calm the brain gremlins—I’ve realized that writing is a pretty solo and solitary venture. When I’ve felt most engaged, I’ve also been a part of something performative or collaborative. Something where I get to create with other people.
And I feel kinda itchy and lonely for that.
What happens when I neglect those social, collaborative arenas is that I begin to pick out the flaws in everything else. And, if you’re living with me, you’re probably going to get the lion’s share of that! And that’s not fair, because it’s also not reality; it’s a microscoped circle of vision about an aspect of my life since others are atrophied.
My energy gets low, my irritation gets high, and it’s easy to lummox into a myopic spiral.
It’s unclear to me at present the exact action steps to take toward broadening my creative and productive vivacity, but noticing that I’m teetering on the edge of Limited Perspective is a start.
Owning Voice 