I think it's time to accept something. I'm not a frequent poster.
I wish I was, I truly do. Unfortunately I suffer from jack-of-all-trades syndrome. I want to do everything, I keep discovering new things I enjoy doing, and seem to have a knack for, only to be distracted by something else. If I were to settle down to do a limited number of things I might begin to achieve some sort of mastery but nooo. My kitten-like attention span will outlast my interests every time. One of the stages of growing up is learning to close the circle of ones existence. To recognise the limits of time and choose what will be your life's pursuits and, importantly, what there will realistically never be time for. I can't seem to do this.
I recently decided that since I enjoyed drawing with pencils and whatnot (also a relatively recent discovery) I might get my hands on a Tablet and draw on the old PC. I figured it would take a while to get used to drawing like that but lo and behold I settled to it like a duck to water. I then added a book on cartoon drawing, which was my aim to start with, and the results of my first experiment lie below.
If you're wondering why he's wearing, what would appear to be, a pseudo-Starfleet dress uniform then your guess is as good as mine, it just kind of happened. I was only supposed to draw the head but the stylus just kept on going.
I'm describing what is, for me, an ongoing frustration.
I've also only recently tried writing as any regular readers will know, have I continued to pursue it? Nope. I started a story which got some really good feedback and which I really enjoyed, have I even looked at it in months, no. AAARRRGGHHH!!! Annoying much?
The primary reason is that the inspiration died; but a true artist pushes through that, tries to find it again rather than waiting for it to strike but since these are hobbies I find I move on with barely a whimper. Only to find myself regretting my lack of discipline a few months later. I also play the flute, something I was getting really good at before the inspiration died. Now, I've picked it back up again and am kicking myself because the flute requires the development of muscles in the lips to form what's called the embouchure, and since I've slacked off so have the muscles and I must develop them all over again...until of course I lose the will and move on to something else!
I have more hobbies and interests than any twenty people I know but lack the maturity or discipline to develop any of them to a level that my profoundly perfectionist self is happy with. I've been sitting here toying with the idea of starting a webcomic but know that it will die before it even starts, or worse still, once I've gotten going. And yet I know it's something I might do well if I could stick to it. Well, that or the any of the hundred other things I've learned about myself.
I have, over the last few years, discovered a great many talents that I never knew I had or had been told I'd never be good at. It sometimes feels like I was asleep for thirty years and have only just recently awoken to myself. As a matter of fact this is more true than I really want to admit.
I take some comfort from my work as a therapist, which continues to develop and grow. It's a rare field of endeavour where the personal and professional are often one and the same.
It seems that for the moment at least, I must continue to discover things and then watch them disappear until I am able to close the circle and discover what my life is really going to be about both beyond my professional activities and within them. The bugger is, I'm 35 and feel that I should be well past this stage but alas, it seems I still have a ways to go.
It's both a fascinating journey and source of immense frustration.