M
y mentality is usually one that asks itself "What should I be doing more of?". I rarely have the presence of mind to ask what I should be doing less of. Somehow, I'm always trying to convince myself that a truly enormous number of things can somehow fit into my life, without asking what needs to needs to be removed to make room for it.
Life is filled with little "blank" moments -- the time in between doing two tasks, the short minutes before something scheduled starts, the bleary-eyed sitting in the morning before the coffee kicks in, the indecisive times when we can't make up our minds about what to do. Part of me says that if I could just focus in and eliminate those dead times, I would have enough time to do everything I want to do. And then part of me fears greatly the killing of those times; worries that I would be turning myself into some kind of machine, ruthlessly assessing every moment for its efficiency.
I wobble back and forth between idleness and intense activity. I want to be doing things, starting things, ideally finishing things; and I want to just wander around my house and land, picking up whatever catches my interest. In my ideal world, these two would be the same thing -- I would wander aimlessly until something I wanted to do caught my attention, and I could work hard at it for as long as it pleased me, before moving on to something, or nothing, else; and the bills would still be paid. The little naive corner of my heart believes this could be a reality, but it probably can't, right?