Time Is On My Side
As a write this post, a few precious moments squeezed out before heading to a dance call, simultaneously on hold with my phone company, buying theater tickets, updating my online actor resume, and doing a vocal warm-up, I can’t help but laugh. This is exactly the state of the union in my life right now. Apparently being from Florida, I have never clued in that well to a sense of the seasons, instead of leaning into fall, laid back, I have jumped as though it were spring, tightly wound.
I don’t like to spend a lot of time wishing. Usually we wish for some event or circumstance in the past to be different, which until time travel is completely ironed out, just isn’t going to happen. If not, we wish for some dream so wild that it can only be expressed by a flight of fancy- “I wish I had a pet unicorn.” Although, I do, deeply, wish for a pet unicorn, I prefer to focus my energy on what seems to be semi-attainable, albeit only with a lot of blood, sweat, and tears.
But more times than I can count, I have found myself in the last month wishing for time. The amount of time I need depends on the day- 4, 6, even 8 hours seems like the bare minimum I need to get everything done. I’m starting to resent my commit to a good night’s sleep, my mind running wild with possibilities for those valuable minutes. I could scour plays for new comedic monologues (and then learn them!), finish up some lingering freelance work so I can actually get paid, stretch my tender hips, belt a high Q, do a handstand, read every issue of The New Yorker cover to cover, watch more documentaries, give my sad toenails a decent pedicure, call my grandparents, nail a rolling shuffle and a double pirouette, catch up with a friend, enroll in an Italian language course…. My heart clenches in my chest and my breath gets stuck in my throat in simply compiling the list of things undone.
“The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” That’s what keeps coming to mind. I have enough love and interest, and almost enough energy to do all of it and more. I feel constrained by the innate need to lie down and rest, to let everything hang, suspended in mid-air while I shut my eyes and let my systems recharge.
This is not one of those posts where at the end I write the lesson that I’ve figured out. I am not at the place of turning this experience into sage advice. I am right in the middle of the matter, trying to understand how I have turned loving so many things into a problem for myself. Though I suspect I am not alone. That word accomplish looms in bold at the top of every to-do list, and its absence is felt even more strongly every time I spend five minutes on Facebook or chat with an acquaintance after an audition. I can rewrite the calendar and make each day 29 hours if I like, but I suspect it’s not the sun and the stars that need to change. More than likely, it’s that vast universe inside my head.