Ever since I kept a diary, a good portion of what I wrote concerned what I wasn't doing. I drew sketches of different directions to take, people to see and write to, places to go, books to read, writing and artistic projects, martial arts and music to practice, esoteric arts to engage in, and of course cleaning up the mess.
It doesn't get any easier with kids, a busy career, married life, a home to maintain and the rest of the bourgeois grand wad of existence. These wonderful shared parts of life form the roots and base of my life.
Aesthetic pleasures devolve into consumerist acquisition of media and equipment to present it. Lacking dedicated time, fine music remains in the background, DVDs gather dust, digital pictures and video remain unedited, unproduced, unshared. Books, magazines, on-line bounty get no attention, even if paid for.
The immediacy of shuttling kids, getting them through the day fed, intact, clean, prepared for the challenges they face overwhelms so many 'fine pursuits.' Work has a bottomless character - no matter how much one does, it doesn't reach an end - or a point where it couldn't go better or bring further advantage. And many other obligations permit only so much neglect and procrastination - taxes and so on.
The challenge I share with so many others comes down to a continued desire to enjoy and develop the individualistic periphery of my life while still engaging heartily in my shared existence with family, friends and colleagues.
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