And that’s okay!
I’m trying to learn to set boundaries for myself despite my perfectionist and people-pleasing tendencies. Sometimes I know what I want—to have some time to myself, to introvert, or to enjoy my hobbies—but I’d often feel obligated to do something else. That I have to make a day count towards the goal or that I have to have all these experiences everyone else is getting into at my age.
I suppose that the fact that I’m used to living in a society that correlates one’s value to productivity and achievements could be one of the root causes of easy burnout. There’s also the case of ‘Fear of Missing Out’ and the question of whether saying No actually means I’m ‘Not Moving Past My Comfort Zone’ or does it mean ‘I’m Setting Boundaries and Being Honest With Myself’.
Honestly, I’m still overthinking my decisions.
But if my heart had to choose, it’s saying I’m tired and I want a slow day and, sometimes, it is on slow days that I feel a certain magic and promise in the way light pushes through the windows of our quiet house.
It is on slow days, the kinds where I have very little expectations, that I find the potential to do something creative. Slow days are like Time’s Blank Page because it’s like I’m allowed to do anything and be anything.
I’d painted whatever I felt like (traditionally or digitally) on slow days and relished the product of my spur-of-the-moment ideas. I’d sewn together colorful felt, stuffed the shape with plush, and made my own little dolls on days when I didn’t expect to make something too profound. I’d make the things only because there were ideas, bright, vivid, and exciting, and I wanted to see if I could do it. Because it was something I had the opportunity to do. It was in idle, slow, and careful days that I’d begin to daydream and get ideas for stories.
I guess I crave those kinds of days because some deep down part of me knows that I need them to keep my spirit going despite the circumstances life has thrown my way. It isn’t always easy to pick up one’s pen and take the road less traveled. Sometimes there are practical things keeping me from making rash decisions or, simply put, I don’t know enough about the world to make that trek just yet.
But that’s it, isn’t it? That word. Yet.
It’s as if on the days I allow myself to quiet down and feel at peace with myself I’m actually healing and hoping. Because if we take time for ourselves, to do the things that remind us what we value and who we are, it brings the hope that also feeds into the motivation to get back up.
I don’t wake up to go to my day job. I wake up because I know there are slow days and that someday I’ll get to the point where every day feels like healing, feels like growth. I wake up for somedays pushing through like sunbeams in todays.