in-between week.

I finished reading The War of Art yesterday, and it prompted a flood of questions and urges and ideas. The book itself is a little ridiculous, especially the third of three sections, which talks an awful lot about praying to the Muses and angels etc etc. But even still, it manages to issue a rallying cry to do your work and to fight the forms of resistance in your life.

I finished it yesterday morning, while listening to Jean Sibelius’ Finlandia, which I’m listening to again now.

And for the hour or so after, I thought about what the point of this writing here is. It’s part journal, part freewriting, part stream-of-consciousness, part soapbox. What is it? It’s my practice. It’s the place where I remind myself that I can show up day after day, or even hour after hour if my goals demand it. It’s the place where I dull my nerves and my fear of success and failure and being good and being bad.

It's that awkward time between Christmas and the year’s end, the time when I find myself reflecting and planning. The time when we feel prone to eating a lot of cheese and cookies (just me?) because the fresh start will come in the new year. The time when we feel prone to laying around and blowing through episode after episode of that one show we finally got hooked on. But it can also be that time when we take stock of the past year and lay the groundwork for the next. I think I will only set one resolution again for 2015, because it felt good to see just one thing through the year. It was a touchstone to remind myself what one of my priorities is (and by extension, what the rest are). I don’t know what that one resolution will be this year, but I have this in-between week to figure it out.