I’m thinking of my child self. The days when unfilled hours were simply filled with whatever I felt like. When the concept of purpose was not a course or a noose. When I drew just to draw. Who cared why or if it ever got finished?
For hours, I would stare at an object, glance at paper, draw, stare at object, glance at paper, draw, stare... With friends. With family. Mostly by myself. For hours.
There was no goal sheet I set up. No tick mark to say I had done the task for the day, good job me. No contest I was hoping to win. Sometimes the drawings were fine. Sometimes they were great. Frequently they were bizarre and maybe not so good at all, crumpled into a ball and thrown into a bin. Most often the reason why I drew was not necessarily to get better, but just because.
I did it just because.
I felt like it.
Remember when those were reasonable responses as children?
“Hey- why you doing that?”
“I dunno? Just because?”
“I dunno? I feel like it?”
I remember arguments with a man I loved in my 20s and considered settling down with: "but, Rina, why do you want to move somewhere new? What’s the reason?" I never had an answer that satiated him. “I dunno? Just because?” I empathize with his then-frustration.
But I still can't help but feel that as adults, it is still reasonable to just feel like it. Sometimes it seems like a part of ourselves we’ve lost. For many of us, the inequality somewhere between adolescence and adulthood switched to Think > Feel.
Let’s offer feeling back to ourselves. Between the duties and rent. At least sometimes.