Remember the Ritual
Remember the Ritual.
Write, Walk. Write, Walk. Write, Walk.
I missed writing a couple days ago. I missed walking for a week.
To quote the sword master from Game of Thrones: Not today.
The thing I'm struggling with is that I want to work. Not work for my employer. For me. On my stuff. I no longer have the nuclear burn to work on everything, but I've got a medium-to-high heat desire to work on my online world. My blog, my vlog, and my stream.
I'm settling into this new feeling and experience. It's awesome. (Not cocaine manic awesome though, which is nice.) It's just taking some adjustment. For example, I have to pull myself away from the computer. Once I get away, I'm fine. For example, when I get out the door to walk, I'm not jonesing to get back, fighting the urge to turn around at every step. There's a pull, but it's mild.
The biggest example of this change is the Bama game from yesterday. It was against Texas A&M. We beat the snot outta 'em. Even with the lopsided score, Manic Me would have been laser focused on every play. Yesterday, after the first quarter, I started looking at my RSS feeds on my iPad. At halftime, I moved into the office, pulled up the game on the web and fiddled around with stream notes from the night before.
I could never understand how people didn't watch every second of a game. I'd be so into it, I couldn't sit down. Now, I get it. Or, I'm doing it. I don't really understand it, but it's what's happening.
The good news is that this shift in focus (and, I suppose, ability to have a lack of interest) isn't from the numbness of depression. It's just a change in how things work now that I'm leveled off and stable. Also, it doesn't mean I've lost my ability to concentrate. It's just that I'm less interested in mediocre games and more interested in making <strike>things</strike> art to put out into the world.
(And, yeah, I've decided to call what I'm doing art. If enough of us do that, we can knock the term down from the highfalutin to something that's for all of us.)