One of my annoying qualities is how quickly I move on to the next Big Project. Something catches my fancy, I jump in, complete it, and then I'm onto something else.
Later I stumble across a previous project, and think, "How long ago did I finish this? Why didn't I enjoy it?"
Case in point: I love to make music with some great musicians. We recorded a concert in March. What a great night! Now the CD is at the manufacturer and sounds fantastic. The countdown is underway. I can't wait to share it with the world. We've started a small promotional campaign to get out the word.
This morning, I came across our last recording project, released just over a year ago. Still got boxes of those albums, on top of boxes of the previous recordings. Granted, CDs don't sell like they once did. Notable sales opportunities are rare. We don't order as many from the manufacturer as we once did. And yet I keep making more stuff.
Is this the curse of a creative soul? Or an imagination not balanced by retraint?
Or is this a slice of the human condition? This is how the book of Ecclesiastes sees us. An overachiever surveys his life, scanning his acquisitions and achievements. He was so busy moving from peak to peak that he doesn't even enjoy where he is or what he is doing. "Better is the sight of the eyes than the wandering of desire," mused the Sage. "This also is vanity and a chasing after wind." (Ecclesiastes 6:9)
The antidote is to pause. To savor. To inhabit. To sink in. And to enjoy.
Nothing needs to fills the empty space. It's enough to be full.
