“Left to myself…”, a phrase that keeps running through my mind.
Left to myself I would keep myself happily occupied with music, writing, eating, reading, learning, enjoying life.
I realize that “left to myself” implies I’m being browbeaten, hassled by forces outside my control, obligated to do things I’d rather not, at least not just now. I was thinking how charming it can be to overhear a child’s conversation with itself as it plays…”now the bunny is going inside the hole. No! It’s dark! So out it comes and here’s some food for you, Bunny…” I find myself in a mild state of awe witnessing such an inner dialogue made audible, demonstrating an imagination at work. Then I listen to my inner dialogue, and it’s all about to do lists, how to be a healthier, more compassionate person, how not to piss my partner off, how to make the most of my creative hours. No wonder my still, small voice is crying out “left to myself…”.
I wonder how I can make room for more play to happen. Many of the goals my inner voices are urging me to achieve are laudable ones. They have their uses. I just want to free up more mental space for the “not useful” ones. More fun! Yes, I need more fun!
Excuse me a moment, please, while I get out my coloured pencils!