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magic?

How is it made? How does it get in? How does it manifest itself in a life?

Magic, or grace, or whatever you want to call the intangibles that make it all not just bearable but exciting will get in the cracks, that’s true. But maybe there’s a bigger chance of it showing itself if we make actual room for it.

I stopped using that productivity planner. I think those things are great. I like figuring out when I have the most energy for a thing and making a schedule for my days based on that information and that leading to the possibility of fitting all of the things, creativity included, in. But please, using it not only made me have to make time in my day to use it, hence another thing to have to do, it also started to make me feel like I was in kindergarten. And I never even went to kindergarten. My Mama thought I was above and beyond it.

Whether she was right or not, I don’t know. But I think she knew I was ready to start busting moves and didn’t need anyone to tell me to do so.

I have never been the sort to let things that need doing go undone. Irresponsibility is not my problem. I grew up hearing, “If you want someone to remember something, tell Allison,” and “She’s the responsible one.” But I am the sort who, if I’m not careful and leave myself unchecked, will leave no room for anything else. I’ve carried the weight of those early projections and I’m no longer satisfied with that saddle (this makes me put on my list that this topic would be good to write about) so I’m trying to shake it off.

Cultivating ideas and digging deep into creative work usually requires some time for dreaming and softness. It hit me that I feel like I need to give myself permission to take that time. As my own harshest and most judgmental critic, I’ve been pointing fingers at myself for not doing enough since I started making to do lists, some time around 11th grade. Oh, have mercy. Screw this productivity, this seeping in of the voices of headset wearing task masters who would urge me to “crush” my goals and “kill” a performance. Why all the violent words? I don’t want to crush anything or anyone and I certainly don’t want to kill the making of art (I’m going to write that down to go over later too). I’m trying to avoid violence in my life at every turn — why such language? I digress…

I need a to do list, for there is indeed a lot to do. But I’m trying to leave more space in between the entries. Even if it’s just time to have a cup of coffee right by myself and not over a meeting or desperate catch up with a friend, even if it’s listening to a record and doing nothing else while the sun is still up, even if it’s taking a walk and appreciating where the inspiration to do anything comes from in the first place, or, horror of horrors, even if it’s taking a nap. If I never leave any space for air, for yes, magic, to get in, then how do I expect it to show itself to me?

This missive, from spiritual idiot headquarters, is sent earnestly.

Happy Monday Y’all,

AM