It’s dark out. I can see the silhouette of a dog against the sliding back door light of the house behind mine. I can’t tell if the dog is waiting to be let in or waiting to be let out. My cat, Nick, is sitting on the floor a few feet away from me. His eating habits have been off for a few days. He was sick and wouldn’t eat, and then once he started eating again, he would only pick at his food. I’ve had to leave food out for him so he can eat when he feels like it. Two years ago the vet had me put him on a diet, now I feel like he’s gotten too thin and I’d like to find ways to put some weight back on him – he’s not the ravenous eater that he used to be. I am more at ease when he does the things he’s always done – eat in the morning, eat at dinner. I know he’s eating – the bowls get emptied at some point. Not following his routine worries me.
Two nights ago I wanted to read, I wanted to write, I wanted to exercise and couldn’t settle into any of those activities. My excuse was a lack of energy and focus. Despite my efforts over the past year and a half to become more of a wandering, go-with-the -flow free spirit, I am still, very much, a creature of habit – someone who does best with some routine and structure (however loose that may be). Even in what felt like one of the most “free” periods of my life (those few months without work and ample time) I established a routine of writing and walking and exercising – maybe at different times each day, but I still built my days around these activities. I know I’m not alone in thinking this – but for the better part of a year, nothing has been normal. The dog out back was waiting to be let out.
Two nights ago, I was “restless.” My friend Stacy and I have gotten in the habit of video chatting most nights. We have a pretty set time for this. She’s down in TN and is a night owl – the hour time difference is something we’re mindful of. She also does pet sitting on the side. She had a gig for a few days that disrupted our routine. It threw me off, made me agitated. I felt like I was waiting around on her availability or that she wasn’t trying to meet me part way. Not knowing when, of if, we were going to talk made me feel like I couldn’t settle in to anything else. Saying no, I’m busy isn’t something I’m very good at doing.
For years I’ve struggled with relying too heavily on one or two people to meet my social needs. Feeling like I’ve fallen into that old trap again made me annoyed with myself. I think my lack of options here compounds the issue. When I was married, I could always putter around the house as a way to occupy my time. When I was single, I went out to listen to live music a few times a week and was also meeting lots of new people – and in nicer weather went on hikes or to the beach. When I was engaged, I went to the corner bar in Philly or took the dog for a walk – though I definitely found myself happily anxious to do something together (cook dinner or just chill). When I was down in Memphis, I didn’t have many connections, but I took walks along the river, had a few local pubs I’d go to, and always had the option of live music. Right now, I feel like I don’t have as many tools at my disposal. There are fewer restaurants to go to. It’s cold and dark – so outside activities are off the table. I don’t know anyone to hang out with. And because I’ve gotten out of practice/habit with writing, it’s a struggle to make the time to do it. I’m finding that in the morning – my mind is focused on what I need to do for the day for work. In the evening all I really want to do is have a glass of wine, maybe relax, read the news, talk with my friend. This leaves little time for outside stimulus or personal reflection.
I didn’t want to write another post about not being able (or motivated enough or disciplined enough) to write. I didn’t want to write another post about trying to find a groove. I didn’t want to write another post about not having a good mix of social outlets or relying too heavily on a select few people. Last night I told my friend, Stacy, I feel like I need a few more options or tools in the tool box. That maybe I need to train my brain to sit down and write for smaller chunks of time or to be ok with starting a painting and stopping midway. She suggested just going with the flow – write if I want to write, read if I want to read…. I just don’t think it works that way – or at least not for me. I’ve observed my behaviors enough to know that I need to clear out all of the garbage (bitching about not writing or not finding a routine, etc) before I can maybe do something better. That it’s like exercise – most days I might not want to do it, but if I get in to a good routine of doing it almost every day, it gets easier to do it almost everyday. When I get in the habit of reading or writing, it’s easier to sit down and read or write.
The dog has long since been let out and gone back inside – probably curled up in warm spot for a day of napping and doing dog things. Nick still hasn’t eaten which means I’ll worry about him on and off throughout the day – he’s in one of his hiding spots for when he doesn’t feel great. I’ll reflect on these things some more: routines and habits and minor failures of discipline. I’ll go back and forth between being self-critical and cutting myself some slack. I’ll check on Nick. I’ll fret about not having enough time to get done what I need to do for work. I’ll talk to Stacy later. And for a brief while, I’ll feel a little good about having set aside some time this morning, however brief, to write, to clear my space, to take one more stand against atrophy and inertia.