My life has undergone a number of significant changes lately, and I lamented when I realized I hadn't indulged in any writing for a number of weeks (both creatively and for this blog). Life is a funny thing, however, and I began reflecting on how our priorities can change depending on where we are and the people we surround ourselves with. I've noticed a number of patterns in my own life; self-analysis can be a sobering and eye-opening experience.
I've come to the conclusion that I go through phases where I give myself projects that, once I master (at least to a degree I deem acceptable) I take a satisfied step back before incorporating them into my usual routine and move onto something else.
The pursuit of self-actualization is something that I've always romanticized - to be the best version of yourself. As I've stated before, I'm fascinated by the ability of certain individuals to take the knowledge and resources they currently possess, and teach themselves how to be more - to reach new potential, to evolve psychologically in ways beyond the basic maturation that comes (or doesn't, in some cases) with age.
I've always been driven to succeed. I'm an incredibly goal oriented individual, and when I set myself to a project, I pursue it until I consider it fulfilled. Normally I would have only applied this to simple tasks, but lately as I look over my life, I realize that this applies to my hobbies and passions as well. When you've lived long enough to be able to recognize patterns and habits in your own behavior, you get an uncompromising perspective on yourself. As I stated in the first paragraph, I've lamented lately that I haven't written anything in quite some time (something I'm obviously remedying right this very second) because I consider writing both a passion and a hobby - a crucial aspect of my identification. Looking at it from a more self-aware perspective, however, I realize it is actually simply another pursuit that has lacked priority in recent years.
I accomplished what I deemed my most successful writing pursuits while I was in university and college. I wrote four full-length novels in the span of about two years. It is now almost two years since I completed my fourth novel, and I've only produced snippets and half-finished volumes since then. I still have many projects I wish to work on and many more stories to tell, but the motivation and drive to flesh them out has been somewhat lacking. For a long time I thought I simply lacked the spark, but then I realized (while considering the patterns and behaviors I've etched for myself) that isn't the case.
This is where I tie it all into life priorities.
Another major hobby/passion of mine is music. I picked up the guitar as a personal challenge when I was seventeen, taught myself to play, performed in a band for several years, recorded a few songs/CD's, and now I only practice on occasion. Like my writing, I'm a bit frustrated I haven't made it more of a priority lately, but now I know why I haven't; I'm simply not in a position to prioritize it.
When I first picked up the guitar, I was living at home surrounded by friends who also played music. I got the chance to practice with several groups of individuals on a weekly basis. My band practiced and started performing gigs regularly. I was in an environment that was conducive to playing. As the years moved on that same environment vanished. I moved away from my hometown, the venues where our band could perform started drying up, we all had different priorities . . . and yet my best friend/singer and I still sat around wondering where the "magic" had gone. It's rather obvious now that the magic never left, but like classic rock itself, it was tied to a particular place in history. The same holds true for my writing.
When I was in university and then college, I was in an environment that bolstered creative thought and encouraged artistic expression. It would have been impossible not to want to write. I was inspired and motivated; the world felt full of possibilities and I was still coasting on the dream that I could some day become a successful, best-selling author. Then that environment disappeared. I finished and self-published several novels, and my world didn't change. I tried to market myself as a writer with little success. I got a full-time job in the entertainment industry that left me creatively fulfilled. As with my music, I still have the desire to practice and (in the case of writing) tell stories, but the urgency has eased a bit.
And the list goes on. After school I became passionately involved in advocacy work, and although I still maintain an interest, that faded too as the people I spent time with changed. There was a brief spike in music and writing as I spent time with more art-oriented individuals after that, but that too passed. And now I've settled on my latest endeavor: health and fitness. I've spent the last several months throwing myself into proper nutrition and exercise because I'm surrounded by friends and an environment that is conducive to such a thing. I have no doubt that over time the same urgency will fade, but like everything else it will still remain an important facet of my life; I'll just learn to balance it more equally with everything else.
And who knows what the next project will be? I've always wanted to learn French, and I've been pushing myself to try and learn, but I'm not in a position that necessarily fosters it. Were I to be thrown into a French-speaking town, I have no doubt I would pick it up almost immediately. As it stands currently, I have only a handful of French-speaking friends (all of whom speak perfect English) a couple of "how-to" manuals, and no urgent need to be bilingual. Perhaps I shouldn't push myself as hard since the circumstances aren't right yet.
Or perhaps I should just stop being so goddamn lazy.
But this whole thing just makes me think about how easily our individual priorities shift and change, like the ebb and flow of rushing water taking us to different places at different times, into new environments that alter and shape us.
Five months ago I began my foray into online dating. For many years I was determined that I wanted to be in a long-term relationship and thought it was high-time I settle down. I thought I would be the sort of person who would throw themselves into a relationship with gusto, making it my number one priority and altering my entire lifestyle to accommodate it. For years that's how I felt, and now, five months later, my entire perspective has changed. After dipping my feet into the online scene I realize I don't want the hopelessly romantic, doe-eyed love that I thought I wanted for many years. Now that I'm living on my own, embracing my independence, if I were to be in a relationship now, it would have to be one that values and respects individual space without the need to constantly hang onto one another. It would have to be completely opposite from what I thought I'd wanted for years, but that's simply how I've evolved and adapted in the last few months. My life, and my priorities, have changed.
Life is a funny thing. I don't know whether to think of it as something that changes us continually into the "version" of ourselves that we must ultimately become, or if instead each "version" of ourselves is less like a staircase leading towards one inevitable outcome and more like a hopscotch chalk outline, with each square just as equally important as all the others. I can't say I'm a better person now than I was a few months ago, although I'd like to believe I am, but for all I know a few months from now I could be in a completely different place, valuing completely different things than I do currently.
Life is a very funny thing indeed . . .
