A while ago I watched the movie ‘Wild’, which is based on Cheryl Strayed’s memoir, detailing her hike along the PCT, which she did – she says, “in order to save myself“.
Now I’m usually a horror movie kind of girl, so this was not something I would usually choose. It actually appealed to me, because the thought of disappearing into the wild on my own is something I’ve thought about many times.
After watching the movie, I started googling Cheryl – as you do – and one thing she said made me feel sincere relief. A heartfelt smile curled up and rested on my cheeks. Dimples getting deeper and deeper. She said she was a binge writer.
Now, I have always felt like a fraud, and suffered from a mild case of imposter syndrome. I call myself an artist, but I don’t paint every day. In fact, I can go a year without even picking up a paintbrush. I’m a binge artist too. Because … life.
The older I get, the more difficult I find it to be creative after working an 8 hour day. I start the day with lists of what I will achieve once 5pm rolls around. But by the time it does, I’m tired. My eyes are sore from looking at the computer, and I don’t feel very inspired or creative. In fact I feel the complete opposite, and I just want to crawl into bed.
I found it hugely comforting to hear that someone I admire works in a similar way to me. I become so stressed thinking I have to create every day to be successful – that I often end up feeling so overwhelmed, and I do nothing. I’m quickly discovering that there is no such thing as life/work balance – there is only life. And I need to start adding more creativity into my days, and removing non-creative aspects.
So once again I am pushing back against my own perceived deadlines. For the mere fact that I have enough stress in my life, without adding more. I’ve always been more of a wing it and see kind of person. So I’m working towards removing my self-inflicted pressure, trusting my creative flow, and just enjoying life.
Now where did I put my hiking gear …