Back in April, I was sitting in my Positive Psych class, and my instructor was talking about how he motivates himself.  In addition to practicing and teaching, he is also a surfer.  He said that when it is early in the morning, and he just wants to sleep in instead of heading to the beach, he engages in some self talk.  He asks himself, “Are you a surfer?”  And the answer, of course, is “Yes.”  So then he tells himself, “Well, surfers surf.”  And then he gets out of bed and goes surfing before heading to his office or classroom.

So, I spent some time thinking about that.  Like, a lot. I thought about how I say I am many things, or want to learn about many things, or want to try many things, but I don’t do/learn about/try them.  I’ve been writing a list of identities since then.  I planned to spend time this summer exploring and/or developing these skill sets.  And I am doing that, at least partially.  I haven’t gotten to all of them, and it is unlikely that I will be able to get to all of them over this summer.  But I have a master plan, an idea that guides my days, see.

So, to answer the question you haven’t ask, and probably don’t give two shits about, I am a:

writer, teacher, thinker, parent, student, homemaker, lover, meditator, reader, healthy eater, exerciser, flow  enthusiast, philosopher, counselor, crafter, minimalist, journaler, linguist, historian, music enthusiast, guitarist, chess player, camper, fisher, knitter, marksman, photographer, baker, chef, rose aficionado, flower gardener, wine connoisseur, sketch artist, painter, scrapbooker, bath taker, game player,  smart money manager, mentor, tutor, daughter, volunteer, self-sufficient person who is fit.

So all this seemingly random stuff I am doing, it isn’t random.  I have a plan.  I’ve had a plan since mid-April.

And I guess I am mostly writing this post to justify how I spend my time these days, days when I have no school and seemingly few responsibilities.  Days where I must sit around and eat bonbons and watch soap operas.  Except I don’t like coconut.  Or tv.  Just because I can’t hold a “this” in my hand and say “this is what I did,” doesn’t mean I am not doing things.

As an aside, this reminds me of the joke about the husband who comes home and asks his wife what she did all day.  It’s one of the reasons I don’t want to get married, or possibly even live with someone, again– because I hate justifying myself.  I hate accounting for my time.  If I want to spend three days in the same pajamas without showering or combing my hair, catching 15 minute naps at my desk because I am absolutely ON FIRE over something, and I cannot walk away until I have sated myself or spent that passion out, I want that to be okay.  I want the privilege of living the life I want to live in my own space.

You call it “aimless free time.”  I call it “working sabbatical.”  It is a complete update on my external and internal environments.  It’s a re-arranging of my physical, spiritual, emotional self.  And if other people can’t see it, I’m okay with that.  Because I know.  I know I am actually busy here.