So, I've been writing blog posts in my head all week, but somehow never got it down on cyber-paper. A summary of what's been on my mind this week...
On Monday I stared ahead at the work week with dread... 5 whole days, are you serious?!? Yes, yes, I know... at least I have a job, and it's a flexible, decent-paying-for-being-a-student-hourly-job at that. But I'm struggling. I've been struggling with it since I've returned from Chicago. REALLY struggling. I'm stuck between boredom and guilt and paying my bills and fear and feeling like I'm going batshit crazy in the cave all by myself. I'm trying to be grateful, I'm trying to stop complaining, I'm trying to get motivated by finding new projects to keep me busy and distracted... Epic fail this week, schmeh.
And then there were the glimmering rays of inspirational sunshine that shone through the office-cave gloom... I attended a small business networking event early in the week to spread the word about an arts and culture group that I'm a member of, called Articulate City (the website will be up-and-running soon!). I also passed out business cards for my dance company, The Rhythm Company. Not only did I get all jazzed about the two businesses I was networking for, but I was also incredibly inspired to think about me and my own future business... being a li'l entrepreneur has always been what would just naturally happen "someday". I've always envisioned working for myself in some creative, artistic capacity... or several, really.
The problemo, however, is myself. I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned this here, but my first degree is in English/Creative Writing. I've fantasized about being a freelance writer for the big glossy magazines for years... YEARS. Article ideas pop into my head all the time... but then so does the doubt. And the whole, "oh, I can't shoot for the moon right out of the gate, so I better start small and safe..." There is another writing project, too, one that I allowed myself to start outlining and brainstorming about five years ago, before I freaked out that I might be full of myself to think that little old inexperienced, insignificant me could dream so big. (Omigosh, just thinking about this project gives me the butterflies...)
Now, hold on right there, missy... I thought you wanted to be a dancer?!?
Yep. I do. But I also want to write. Choreograph on the page, if you will. And design. And craft. And cook (have I mentioned that when my body craps out on me, I want my own cooking show on Food Network???). Alongside being the Artistic Director of some dance company. Oh, and I haven't even added being a wife and mom in there... Oh, I have a whole cache of pipe dreams.
[I'm curious - are they called "pipe dreams" because the dreamer is seen as crazy, like she is smoking something?!? 'Cause I'm sure some of you may be thinking I am smokin' somethin' gooooood with all these crazy ideas and dreams... My head feels like it could explode thinking about all I want to do!]
If I can go after my dance dream, why can't I go after the others?? Why do I listen to the fears and doubts?? I feel like I'm on the brink of something big when I start thinking about all of this... things start buzzing and stirring inside, like the engines are firing up and getting ready to rock and roll... and all I need to do is trust and jump... trust and JUMP...