As if I don’t have it easy enough, I often daydream about what my life will be like when I am truly free.
I dropped the shackles of a full time job at the end of February. Gone are the soul-sucking days spent in an office (and out of the office – because, let’s be honest, I wouldn’t last more than a few months being chained to a desk), and long live the liberated days of being a contract worker. I am free in so many more ways. At 10am today, I am free to write this blog. At 3pm today, I can take a snooze. And between classes at 6:30 pm, I can read a book of my choice.
Yet I still often dream of a completely unstructured day. Structure feeds my perfectionism and kills my creative spirit.
I have often easily slipped into a state of “flow.” As a child, I am told I was content playing alone, and I remember playing imagination games in the backyard by myself. I have never needed company to feel content. I rarely get lonely. My imagination still soars.
But I have had to necessarily learn to reign it in to comply with our society. In kindergarten, I remember coming home and feeling so free. Playing in the backyard, in my imaginary world, daydreaming and enjoying being alone. I forgot I had a homework assignment, and so it went undone. When I had no homework to turn in the next day, I felt mortified. What could be more embarrassing? And thus began my perfectionism.
Now, work comes first, always. Whatever structural parts of my day, whether it be teaching yoga, or cleaning, or even creatively marketing, I do this before anything else.
Because I so easily slip into timelessness, I need to focus first.
And, when my days often run from 8 am to 9:30 pm, this leaves little time for flow.
And yes, I can set a timer. And yes, I sometimes do that. But there’s always that little discomfort: what if the timer doesn’t go off? What if I’m late? What if I slip too far in and fail a responsibility?
And so, I daydream about a time when most of my day is unstructured. Where I teach a yoga class or two in the morning, and have the rest of my day to write, paint, imagine, create. The confines of time and scheduling are too big a burden to bear when trying to access my creativity.
So for now, a dream. Perhaps one day a reality. But this is what daydreams are for, right?