All of us who write, act, dance—create!—are familiar with the labyrinth that opens up under our feet when a project is finished and sent out for response. Currently, that’s the space where I find myself: I am waiting for agents to read my new book.
And I can’t help but wonder… is it anywhere as hard to be the Decider as the Creator-Who-Waits?
I have, many times, in these interim periods, considered ways to make use of myself that could be meaningful—or at least stop me from feeling doomed and eating too much sugar in order to cheer myself up. I’m still looking for ideas, as most of my solutions can only go so far…
I tried gardening, but we have a real gardener for all but my personal plants. And surprisingly, he doesn’t want or need my help doing the work he can do better.
Since I love cats, dogs, horses, goats, pigs, really most all animals, I have also gone to visit Wildlife Waystation and marveled at the beauty of this safe space for any living thing. Even the rats have a home there! Unfortunately, it is the ground around the only outside toilet, so I bring my own cup and tissue to dispose of very ecologically. I am glad the rats have a safe space. I just wish it wasn’t our human toilet.
The real problem with animal rescue volunteering is that if somebody furry dies, I am no longer waiting to hear the response to my book (play, blog, etc.). Instead, I become consumed with grief, and I will feel doomed. And once again, I will feel called to eat too much sugar.
Before you ask, I can’t cook. (Remember: I wrote an entire essay about it.) Any friend of mine will grimace and tell you this isn’t modesty on my part. How can a visitor not drink a cup of Keurig? Answer: Because I can very easily screw up even that.
This leaves learning how to crochet. Or knit. But forget it. It just is not going to happen. I’m better off with a TV binge a thon. The more I’ve seen the show that’s on, the safer I feel.
Fellow writers, creators, waiters—what helps you make peace with the time in-between? How do you get through the waiting? And seriously, how the hell do you put the water in this coffee maker?
Susan Rubin 