3 years later: a perspective on a cup of tea
Good morning, Internet, it’s Friday, August 2nd, and – wait… August? When did that happen?
As my web server continually reminds me through “renewal is coming up!” emails, this website has been live for almost 3 years. Every now and then I go back to revisit my old video-blog posts (man, were those things ever time-consuming) and cringe at my terrible, terrible vlog-making skills. And, occasionally, wish I still had tea that came with inspirational quotes.
But mostly what I notice in newly-26-year-old Sharon is how tireless she was. That woman was running a theatre company, writing things, working 3 jobs AND spending upwards of 3 hours/week making youtube videos. How did she do that?
I think that one of the things that drives me – and always has driven me – is the feeling that I should be doingÂ more. Playing more, reading more, creating more, writing more, working more. I still feel that way all the time. I should be out running. I should be working on that adaptation. I should be producing that show. I should be updating that blog I’ve been neglecting (this is a constant feeling, by the way). I haven’t lost any of that.
The thing I haveÂ gained since starting this website 3 years ago is a keen desire to sit still for a while.
Remember when you were small? Really small – 4 or 5 years old – and time went on forever? I remember once being so bored by a museum that I counted seconds for an entire hour while my parents apparently doddled about reading silly, boring placards and looking at silly, boring artifacts. I also distinctly remember once sitting next to my father while he “napped” and asking him to get up and play with me, over and over, for 20 minutes straight – the time he had allotted for a nap.
What an arsehole of a child I must have been.
One of the discoveries we make as we get older is exactly how short an hour is – especially when you have to get something done in it – and how short a day is, and how short a year is. Years, it turns out, are very short. In the past year, I have had 4 jobs, visited 5 countries and more cities than I care to count, made dozens of friends, fallen in love, written about a hundred lines of poetry, and read about 20 books… but this time last year still feels very recent. Almost, as the cliche goes, like yesterday.
And sometimes, all I want to do for an hour, or, sometimes, for a whole day, is sit still. Drink tea, not for its caffeine content (or, even, for its inspirational quotes), but because it makes me feel good. Cook a real meal and enjoy it. Quiet the noise in my head for a while and not pressure myself to be always making, always creating, always at some interminable task. Read something for fun. Go ahead and watch television. These things are not vices. These things are to be classified in a very important category: Maintenance of Sanity.
So, while I work at this excellent festival and enjoy a brief, blissful period of being artistically and financially satisfied at the same time, I will be enjoying the stillness, the time to breathe, and most of all, the time to drink an entire cup of tea without moving.