The Thing You Love

round & round we go

A post shared by Jean Jullien (@jean_jullien) on

 

It’s been another week, folks, and — surprise, surprise — I am once again behind on nearly everything I had wanted to do, such as, oh, I don’t know, writing another post for this here blog.

Of course, it’s partially a matter of what I choose to put first, but factoring the wearisome 10-to-6, the 70-minute commute each way, the emails to return, the taxes to sign, the X-ray bills to pay, the last-minute yoga class and the hurried “namaste”, the clothes to fold, the fingernails to trim, the trips to plan, the coffee spills to wipe up with a napkin picked out of the trash — somehow, after all that, those precious spare minutes always seem to escape my grasp.

Do what you love…in between work commitments, and family commitments, and commitments that tend to pop up and take immediate precedence over doing the thing you love. Because the bottom line is that life is short, and you owe it to yourself to spend the majority of it giving yourself wholly and completely to something you absolutely hate, and 20 minutes here and there doing what you feel you were put on this earth to do.

Seems like everyone I know is suffering from “full plate syndrome” lately. Some days, honestly, it feels like mine’s a limp paper plate of day-old salad from the office kitchen or a week’s worth of stale peanut butter and sugar-free-jelly sandwiches with a bite taken off the top.

So you decide: is this oldie but goodie from The Onion a knee-slapper or a tear-jerker?

For me, I suppose it depends on what kind of lunch I ate.

Happy Friday. Do what you love, y’all.

Instagram art: by Jean Jullien.

Quote: via Find The Thing You’re Most Passionate About, Then Do It On Nights And Weekends For The Rest Of Your Life.

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Negative Space

The negative space of writing — what we do when we’re not writing — is probably just as important, if not more, than the act of writing itself.

Which I suppose is one reason why writers are so notoriously tormented. Even the smallest decisions — what color to paint my nails, how to eat my eggs — always seem to paralyze me.

Loving this piece by Ingrid Rojas Contreras in Electric Literature about fretting over the many ways everyday minutia can impact the quantity and quality of your output. (See her chart below.)

Writing Output by Breakfast Types, by Ingrid Rojas Contreras

Ingrid Rojas Contreras

“All the hours I spend in the back of my throat, flexing my tongue, agonizing in unwritten sentences—is that writing?”

Food for thought.

via: On Not Writing: An Illustrated Guide to My Anxieties by Ingrid Rojas Contreras in Electric Literature