Finally a diagnosis...Friday one of the Rouge Running trainers put a diagnosis to my disease, FOMA (Fear of Missing Anything). It has a name, and I’m not alone.
Everyone else seems to be content to do a couple of things a week, but I love variety and feel like I’m missing life if I say no to an opportunity even if it means that I miss sleep and down time. Yesterday ran 8 miles, hung out at Barton Springs for several hours, read a book, talked others into joining me at the springs, went to mass, out to the Oasis for dinner, and then almost got roped into going to Momos for music. Just looked at my workweek schedule and outside of work: Monday (it’s Presidents Day and I have it off) – running, Barton Springs swim, violin lessons, yoga (maybe dinner with friends), Tuesday – run 3 miles, Capoeira Angola class, Wednesday – run 5 miles, yoga, play “Death and the King’s Horseman”, Thursday – run 3 miles, play “Beat Voices”, beers with friends, Friday – collapse? (or get talked into whatever someone throws out there).
So am I embracing life or just racing through it?
Friday night I had dinner with a new friend and he described his life as a canvas that was being wiped clean of memories every time he goes into work. That increasingly those things he thought he’d always remember and didn’t need to take pictures of or write about in a journal have simply vanished, but somehow the blank canvas has become soothing. My life right now seems to be a bright canvas and my workweek only adds to the color, which seems good right? Then he pointed out that often beauty comes from simplicity.
So do I guide my life toward becoming a garish abstract, an elegant and focused study, or something in between? If the color added compliments the overall work and in the end all of the little dots merge to create a lasting and cohesive work of beauty then doesn’t that show that we can have it all and embrace the journey?
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- Country or City Girl
- On March 13, 2020 we left the City for a three day weekend in the Country. We were going to, "The Property" where I grew up in East TX & more than two months later we are still here. This is the story of a Country girl who moved to the City and came "home" during a global pandemic.
2 comments:
and it continues...just got talked into a house party on Friday night
One of my best friends from uni just posted a fantastic blog...here's a bit of it...great minds both thinking about canvas? Coincidence, I think not.
"My sister sometimes tells the story of one of her professors in art school. The assignment was to sketch an image of the nude person in front of them during the time of the class period, about an hour. If after ten minutes a student was still standing before a blank canvas, the professor would come up from behind with a big piece of charcoal, slash a long line across the canvas and say, 'There. Now it isn't perfect. You can begin.'"
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