I’m a fully-paid-up, signed-in-blood member of the Cult of Busy and I love it! This time of year is wall-to-wall events, performances, classes and inspiration.
Let me show you what I mean… These are the events I’ve been at this summer:
- Dancing at Ceithofest, Lampeter Food Fest, Cardigan Belly Dance Festival, Brynog Arms, A Hawai’ian birthday party and the Steampunk Extraordinarium
- Herbal Foraging Day in Longwood
- Crafty classes most Wednesdays in July/August
- Goblin Circus at Ceithofest, the Steampunk Extraordinarium, a friend’s daughter’s birthday party, a Wellbeing Day in Porthcawl, & Wyrd and Wonderful Fest
- Plus a trip to Druid camp, my 31st Birthday (and thus an Unbirthday party) and our second wedding anniversary, a visit from Mother, socialising, working the day job… and AT LEAST a day’s worth of preparation for each and EVERY event or class!!!
Busy summer, right? I’m flagging now though, and finally learning to make space
without resenting my limitations.
This week I’d booked off work to go adventuring. Whether touring living rooms with the Goblin Circus or visiting Edinburgh Festival or whatever, I knew I wanted to be out enjoying the last of the summer season. As August began and I looked at the weeks ahead however, I did something important. I checked in with myself.
And myself reminded me that I also needed to rest and wanted to write.
Writing, whether for the thesis or creatively always takes a chunk of time for me. All the excitement and inspiration from my travels needs a little space to catch up and brew.
I was then invited to another event for this period. I realised my other plans had fallen through or not materialised and I could finally get to this event I’d wanted to go to for ages, and be both useful and inspired… and I declined. For once, I’m not regretting it. I’m not feeling like I’m missing out, I feel, instead, like I have space to create.
And yes, I’m still a true believer in the Cult of Busy (“Better busy than bored!” is a favourite saying of mine!) I love the thrill, the excitement, the stimulation… but perhaps, just for a week, I’ll sit on my garden steps with my blossoming roses and be a heretic as well.
Now, who’s for a cuppa?