Too Many Interests Make it Hard to Focus

A vague promise to be imperfect.

As I have almost made clear, this newsletter is meant to be a reflection on my slowing down, going gently, as Michael Nobbs, a leader, in my eyes, in living the slow life calls it, but in my writing and in my interests, I struggle to find focus or maintain a theme (the final criticism on my MA Thesis).

As example, the current stack of books next to my bed range from beat poetry, vegetarian cookbooks, executive function support, Roman Britain, Hercule Poirot, the science behind aging, and a chick lit book set on the edge of a cliff in Ireland that makes one of the characters sound like he’s got long legs attached to a neck. I don’t think it’s meant to be surrealist.

Not to mention the numerous writing drafts I’ve put down since I last wrote here, a number of drawings, a crochet shrug I’m in the middle of, bookbinding projects, domestic organizing, the numerous online courses I’ve registered for and started, the ever evolving quest for my Italian citizenship and practicing my Italian and Spanish and Welsh…, and the sewing projects I started just last night!

It’s all a bit—extra, even and especially for me.

I don’t know how many times I’ve blinked open my little eyes in the wake of shiny-new-object-excitement only to realize I’ve once again taken on a new project that I cannot sustain or registered for an online class I won’t finish (I’m no longer allowed to sign into Facebook, the ads know me too well) or checked out far too many books from the library in one go (I’ve got three waiting for me in holds now on top of that bedside pile!). Then I become overwhelmed and shut down.

Not exactly a shining example of living the slow life.

For these reasons, and for you, I have had trouble determining what this newsletter should be. Or even just allowing it to be all of the things or anything at all.

Sometimes I'm loath to fill your already full inboxes with just one more thing to do or delete.

I don't know what I might offer, or how often (for both our sakes), that might add value or invite you too to find small moments of quiet in your own over-full lives (as most of our lives are overfull). I’d like to offer you some of the things I’m seeking, but fear I'm only adding to the chaos.

I have no answers, except that when I came to edit this essay, which I started writing a couple of weeks ago, I added so much text that I broke 2000 words and lost my point; I clearly have something to say.

There are a lot of shoulds involved in being a writer, maker, and self-employed person which intermingle and challenge my own values and needs. I am trapped in the tension between a need to share and a need to hide, to paraphrase DW Winnicott.

The only promise I seem to be able to make is the promise to write here when I can and that what I write here I do so with intention.

In the meantime, if you’re so inclined, might I suggest Michael Nobbs’s podcast One Thing Today. It has been a model and catalyst for slow living, a beacon of hope for creativity in disability/chronic illness, a relatable companion, and each episode is a brief and gentle meditation in itself.

Such are the mysteries of early Facebook ettiquette, Nobbs and I were FB friends as early as 2008 or 2009. I honestly don’t remember why or how that came to pass, probably I was going through a phase of adding as many people in writing and the arts as I could find. After awhile I sort of forgot about him until I happened upon his a few years ago by means I’ve already forgotten, but am ever so grateful for.

In fact, I could use an espiode now.