Wednesday, October 15, 2014
For me, boundaries between inner space and outer space can blur quite easily. There's a certain yearning that seems to be the catalyst, one where the place that I find myself is never the place I want to be.
Last week, when we were in throes of teething and sleeplessness, I felt the pull of elsewhere more keenly than I had in a long time.
I had hired myself a desk. A desk in an office above a restaurant that is walking distance from my home. My very own writing studio, nestled in amongst three thriving creative enterprises.
I knew when I signed the lease that I would not be able to use it much in the short term. There are partitions to be organised, as well as furniture and supplies to be moved in. But I needed to nab it due to the level of interest: it was just too perfect in terms of setup and location to pass up.
I also made myself a deal that I'd work towards reducing bambino's dependence on me for feeds in order to make more use of the studio in the new year. In particular, I'd focus on building a mealtime routine and expanding the range of foods he'd eat, gradually reducing the number of breastfeeds.
Our start wasn't exactly auspicious. Our routine was ad hoc and half-hearted. There were a few false starts and some very grouchy days (for both of us). But, gradually, gradually, we seemed to be getting there... and then two teeth appeared. The rest you know.
On top of the frustration and concern, there felt like another layer of failure: this setback was pulling me even further from my dreams.
I feel like am playing my hand here but the writing studio is about me taking a calculated risk. It is about me investing in my craft. It is a dedicated (dare I say sacred) space where I intend to make opportunities, follow leads, build a profile and basically, well, WRITE.
Now that we're gently course-correcting as far as the feeding routine goes, I am curious about the impact having a room of one's own will have on me. To get to this point, I have had to dig deep and develop firm answers to niggling questions about my entitlement to such a space. I've had to stay focused as traditional, more secure options have tugged at my sleeve. I've also had to justify the cost, to myself and others, over and over and over. I've also had to open up to support and encouragement from unexpected quarters.
It's been huge, life-shifting stuff.
Signing the lease felt like upping the ante on myself. I had a once-in-a-lifetime chance... and I sure as hell was not going to let it slip between my fingers. I am still not 100 per cent certain how things are going to pan out on certain fronts.
But, regardless, the next twelve months are set to look very different for me, both in terms of where I spend my time and how I spend it.
And I'm also thinking that this will be a unique opportunity to test something else. Namely, the hypothesis that filling oneself up is an effective way of fortifying those porous boundaries.
I'll be sure to report back.
This post is my response to Day Ten of the August Moon reflective writing challenge. You are most welcome to share your own response to the prompt in the comments below.
Otherwise, the next opportunity to connect is Reverb in December. Join us?