Epiphany

Creativity in an altered state.
For many and none reasons I decided to give it a shot.
I sat down at the computer to work on the cover for our bar menu, and was strangely aware of every movement on the computer screen. Every line shift, every opacity change had a purpose and I knew it. I was so absorbed by the work that even the crappy refresh rate of moving zoomed in blurs didn't seem frustrating. I, me, Martyna, patiently waited for the lines to shift, for the color to change. The world outside of me started to melt away. I was in the zone, truly enjoying the process of creating, drawing, vector art.
As I was adjusting the font colors on the subtitle it hit me, I was working extremely slow. Even though I was making progress, really enjoying my work, that clock in my head kept ticking. Tic toc, tic toc. When are you going to get to the next thing? This was taking forever and I'd never get anything else done. Frustration soon tried to follow, because of course I've been taught all my life to work faster, get shit done faster, just so I can move on to the next thing faster, and then the next thing and the next.
And here's my epiphany, and I underline mine, because many have been here before me and this will not blow your mind as it did mine. When you get everything done faster, you'll get to the end faster. At the end you're dead... Getting there faster, with just fractions of memories because you were so focused on the finish line you didn't bother to notice your surroundings, is not really a good thing.
I think that's why long distance running has so much appeal. Sure the first four miles I spend planning the rest of my day, week even, but that's all I have in me because without an iPad making lists and filling up your calendar is not really that fun. So I don't even consider the first four part of the run, it's more like a pre-run cleanse. At around mile five is when the real running begins. I am in only one place at one time, with one foot on the ground feeling every pebble, and my eyes focusing on the ground, directing where my other foot will land. The only thing I search for is the jingle of the dog collars to make sure my buddies are still close.
Realization, however, is only step one. Sure, it might be a big leap to acknowledge that rushing through life only gets you faster to your grave, but it will take a whole different kind of bell to get me to salivate for the now and not in anticipation.
Wish me luck.