Finding the time
Oh, hi friends!
Every morning, I do something a little strange.
I wake up, walk to the kitchen, and bring a book with me. And that book (or play) follows me around all day.
The idea is that if it’s nearby, eventually, at some point, I’ll read it.
But most of the time, I don’t.
And yet it’s still there, sitting by my elbow while I type, or on the coffee table while I eat lunch.
Soon it’s time for bed, and I’ll bring it back to my nightstand. The book watches while I scroll my phone.
On one hand, it’s a little funny. I continue to have faith that I will change my habits, that carrying the book on its own might have meaning.
Yet, it’s a reminder that hoping is very different from acting.
I can want to read the book, but I must open it first. Or set aside time to begin the first chapter. That’s all I need to do.
Eventually, carrying around your best intentions can become exhausting.
When that happens, break the routine. Start anew.
So my friend Danielle texted me this yesterday while I was fretting about things.
Sometimes deadlines can be magic.
And I was struck not only by her optimism but by the reframing of the word “deadline.”
We dread, we worry, we obsess. But can we also recognize there is a kind of magnetism and excitement involved in a deadline as well?
They can nudge you (or yank you) to find a new magic in what you’re making.
Taken that way, they seem a lot less scary.
(Btw, Danielle’s book Let’s Get Physical, which I’ve hyped in this newsletter, came out in January — while I was on a newsletter break — and got raves and glowing features in the NYT, The New Yorker, and The Atlantic, among many others. It’s remarkable to see her hard work get rewarded and recognized and move the cultural conversation forward!! Here’s the book on Amazon and Bookshop.)
Saw a production of the Stephen Schwartz musical The Baker’s Wife this weekend and wanted to share the opening number, “Chanson.” A perfect example of the marriage between music and lyrics, and the power of simplicity.
Every day as you do what you do every day
You see the same faces who fill the cafe
And if some of those faces have new things to say
Nothing is really different…
And the sheep dot the hill where the olive tree sways
And the world spins around with the greens and the grays
And you never take time out to think of the ways
Everything might be different…
And then one day, suddenly, something can happen,
It may be quite simple, it may be quite small
But all of a sudden your stew tastes different
And you hear the gull cry in a different key,
And you see with new eyes,
And the faces you see
Are people you don’t know at all…
And the someone who touches your hair every day,
Touches you now in a different way,
And you may want to run or you may want to stay
Forever
And since life is the cry of the gull
And the taste of your stew
And the way that you feel
When he touches you
Now your whole life is different
Now your whole life is new…
Do you like these daily emails? Please share with a friend!
You can also support my work by checking out my motivational journal, Do It For Yourself, designed to guide you through your creative and work projects, and my upcoming journal Do It Today, which encourages you to find time for the things that matter most to you.
Thanks, as always, for reading.
Love, Kara