The curse of curiosity is that it causes one to spread attention too thinly. I’m feeling it. I’m feeling rag-tag, superficial, scattered. I want too much, want to do too many things, and wind up doing some of them some of the time and never become excellent at any. Which does the dilettante want to do today? Knit? Draw? Take photographs? Write poetry? Memoir? Read? Garden? Exercise? Homemake? Save the world? (Several years ago I had the harebrained idea that I wanted to re-learn to play the recorder. I’d learned in elementary school and was given a soprano recorder in high school. My sister gave me sheet music for Christmas in 2000. I didn’t pursue the goal.)
My appetite is too large. Notice how the list above doesn’t mention friends? I actually have none here, at least none I get together with or talk to on a consistent basis. For the short time I hosted the memoir writing group, I felt it was rich and rewarding. But then I got a job. (Oh, that’s rubbish; when I was unemployed I still wasted a lot of time and didn’t see a lot of people.) Keeping in touch with other friends in Austin, and with family, is more a theory than a fact. I also spend more time on the computer than is helpful. At 43Things (another time waster of mine), a search for the words “less time internet” brings up 10,468 goals, all of which mention something about using the internet less. (Well, I didn’t read them all, but after the first 50 I assumed this was true.) So I’m not special, I’m not alone. Now what?
I wish I only wanted to do one thing, at most two. I want to fall in love, monogamously and forever, with one art form or life goal. I wish I preferred making visual art only. Let’s narrow that down, even. I wish I wanted only to draw, to really learn the principles and practice it daily to become better at it. Instead I want to also make collage and paint. I rarely do any. Or I wish my passion was only for writing. But what kind of writing? I want to write memoir, poetry, and creative nonfiction. Becoming a good writer requires taking time to read, and especially to read works in the genre of choice. Becoming a good writer requires spending time actually writing. But again, what genre? I wish I could decide on whether to pursue non-profit work or to devote myself to developing a life coach practice. I wish I would commit to exercising regularly, making it as much a priority as eating.
My life is cluttered with unused art supplies, unread books and magazines, yarn, needles. It’s gotten so crowded that I feel stifled. My home is chock full of tchotchkes. I long for clean space, clean lines. I have a gym membership that isn’t used as often as I’d promised myself. Stacks of printed articles on creativity and philanthropy and notes of half-baked workshop ideas crowd my desk.
It is tempting to delude myself with the label of “Renaissance woman” and to conclude it’s just that I’m bursting with life and creativity, a modern-day female da Vinci. Hah! I suspect this widespread interest in too many things is one way I protect myself and avoid responsibility. But protect myself from what? Maybe it’s how I avoid being still, because being still brings me closer to the unknown, and the unknown terrifies me. Or maybe all this busy-ness is filling the void of being childless. Avoid what responsibility? The responsibility of becoming really good at something so that people start to expect and rely on my performance. I also surmise that my scattered approach is an expression of immaturity. If I choose A, this means I turn away from B. “But I don’t wanna!”
So today I stew in frustration and self-loathing (actually, it’s been simmering for quite awhile subconsciously). I know this is not productive. But this is what is. I hate this part of myself. It is a deeply ingrained character trait. I remember in my youth starting projects and not finishing them, and the dismay of my elders over this. Hell, I changed my college major five times! And my decision process for graduate school was agonizing. (Did I want a Master of Library Science, to become an ESL teacher, or become a pschotherapist? I wanted them all. And these days I daydream about earning a Master of Fine Arts degree.)
Do I yearn for fewer choices? (Be careful what you wish for, Kathryn.) No. Back in my twenties when absence of money restricted my options, my devotion to one craft or goal was an adaptation. I devoted myself to earning my B.A., because I knew it was the path out of clerical hell and a poor income. For a decade I satisfied the passion to write by maintaining a penpal relationship with a man. It was a journaling relationship; we each poured out our lives to the other, had discussions, even debates, via pen and paper. Between full-time work and school, there was not much time for extras. Writing has always been necessary. So I focused on that. I simply did not dream of exploring visual art, for example. Ah, but now, with a better standard of living, I have been able to afford to explore. No, I don’t wish for fewer choices. I wish for the fortitude, the strength of character, to choose a path and devote myself to it.
What to do?
My goodness, this is an interesting post. I will have to read this several times, digest it and then comment further.
Don’t worry, I’m 55½, have four children (three now grown) and still feel scattered. It’s the sign of a lively mind. Anyway wouldn’t you get bored with having only one interest? And as for perfecting the craft, does perfection exist?
BTW I just looked at the map of who logs on to your site. And there was me thinking Canada was in the civilised world!
I’ve never encountered anyone virtually who appears to have as full and creative a life as you do. I would like to be able to do a millionth of what you do each day. However, as far as art is concerned, you will do what you are meant to do and wish to do no matter what else ever gets in the way. If you are reluctant to do something, it means you really don’t want to do it. If you have the leisure and the means to pursue any kind of formal art education, I would go for it.
Rooting for you,
f
Oh, my, I know this feeling so well! There is so much to do, so many things to be interested in. I actually get frustrated and bored if I’m NOT learning something new!
You’re on your path, don’t fret over it. Go for the MFA if that’s what you’re longing for. You’ll have a great time, and you’ll feel better about all the art projects. You could even go int oart therapy and workl in those interests as well. There is great strength in having a diversity of interests.
I have been reading your web site for quite a while but have never posted an entry. You are lucky to have such a diverse and full life. I see nothing wrong with having many pots in the fire.
Boy, I could have written this entry myself–and have many times over the years–and still am at 68+. In fact, I have a rant today that is the mirror of what you write here. When one does have what you call a scattered mind (and what is actually a very creative mind), it is very hard to narrow things down. What happens for me, I guess, is that yes, things do come and go–but never writing, never reading. I have a personal theory for myself–some of it is simply personality and maybe a little bit of pathology (I would think most very bright people have a hair of ADHD, by today’s standards, but that’s not all bad). But, in my own case, it’s always a feeling of time running out and I’ve got to cram a whole lot in. Maybe, at least in my older years, I’m trying to outrun death. I want it ALL!
If you haven’t already, I think it may be time for you to read this book: The Renaissance Soul : Life Design for People with Too Many Passions to Pick Just One (you can find it at Amazon, if you want to read more about it).
I’m working my way through it now, and it’s helping a lot.
You’re preachin’ to the choir, sister! 🙂 I did make a decision recently to cut back on my blog-reading. I read WAY too many blogs…and although I enjoy them, I’m going to scan through my Bloglines every 2 or 3 days now instead of daily. I’m also going to give myself permission to leave fewer comments. Because all of this online stuff is seriously tipping the time scales, and I want to have more time for reading and watching movies and going for walks and browsing in bookstores and maybe (gasp!) hooking up with some (gulp) in-the-flesh friends. 🙂 It’s a balancing act, for sure. And it’s probably a good thing that we don’t have more money right now or we’d buy a second car and I’d be all over the place in a frenzy…theatre, museums, art galleries, music venues. Maybe it’s a blessing that I’m given so much time these days for simpler pursuits…bike rides, walks, thinking, writing, mulling, germinating…
Kathryn –
I hear what you are saying. I also want to encourage you not to be so hard on yourself. It was difficult for me to read this entry because I truly admire you (even if your creativity comes out in many different directions and forms) and to “hear” you berating yourself so heartily …well, like I said, I hope you’ll be a little more gentle with yourself. You are an amazing soul.
First of all, the diversity of interests which you have, are typical of an active, thoughtful existence. Your mention of the da Vinci approach to life is appropriate….we are many…but few of us have jumped so far ahead of today as he did. A specialization, a “focus”, is actually a commitment to narrowness and eventual boredom. If one does a specialization, one must change it every two years or else be condemned to a rut and the frustration which accompanies it. I see you doing what you like, and what is attracting you. Never mind if it involves a wide variety of activities. As for why, well, it is because you spend your time thinking…fast…and, yes, if subjects in your thoughts shift every few seconds, it is thought to be a kind of mental disorder. Frankly, anyone who can write poetry, do a project, earn a degree, explore a new profession, does not have that type of disorder. One thing, however, bears mention: In heaven…a condition we aspire to…there is no room for hate. I recommend toleration of all things, including your own gifted behavior.