My life right now, sigh... is uncomfortably still. I'm in wait mode and have been for several months. After leaving a temp job, studying and taking the GRE, applying to graduate programs and trying to kickstart a career, most of the work is done and I'm in the dreaded waiting period. Waiting for grad decisions, waiting for more interviews, waiting for fun, waiting for love, waiting... waiting... waiting... waiting... and more waiting. And with old friends and past mates quickly leaving me behind, it can be a discouraging place to be (to say the least).

Last weekend, I attended a production of Guys and Dolls at my old high school (where today I occasionally sub) and got to see some of my old friends and classmates. It was difficult not having more to say to them than... "I'm waiting (just like I was the last time you saw me)" Whats even more difficult is that not many see the work you put in for the results you're waiting for (wrap your head around that one). They just see what looks like stagnation. Wow. This is getting depressing but I'm getting to it. The truth about this waiting period is that... its not uncommon. In fact, we all wait. And usually covet those in their hour of success not recognizing their period of struggle and stagnation.

So then what now? I had a chance to think about when my life was moving at lightening speed and those tiny pleasures I used to grasp time for: In college, taking time on the weekend, rain or shine, to walk to Borders (RIP) with a good book or an idea for a short story (was a joy); Catching a movie alone just before award season kicked in. Before the real world-- or the realist in me rather--put my dreams in a box, I was inspired to create by any and everything. A lyric inspired a story, a cheeky love movie inspired a choreographic piece, a need inspired the giver in me, even the mere yellowing of the pages of a book inspired a concept on which I'd build a creative piece. Now, I have the time to fall in love with those things again but the motivation has worn off. Its strange, though; I was just thinking about how my creative spirit is not what it used to be, my wit is dissolving and my intellectual stamina... well it's going too. This is when I appreciate those times getting through the impenetrable Ulysses by James Joyce in college which once used to drive me insane. There's a void now where that hidden pleasure once was.

The good news is, once you've recognized a desire to go back to that thing you once loved so much, motivated or not, there's just the matter of encouraging yourself to fall in love again. I'm more determined now than ever, to enrich my life with art, express myself through fiction like I once did--my true first love--and get back into film what with award season coming to a close. I'm even prepared to take on the challenge of reading Ulysses without help!

Have you lost sight of your first love? Encourage yourself to go back, it may not be done with you just yet.

mwah.
Tolani