I woke up the other day and came to a startling realization. My life is half done. It was a staggering thought, nagging at my mind all day long.
About now you’re probably thinking that I’m grappling with some mid-life crisis. But I’m not. I’m dealing with another, perhaps more insidious problem – a life half done….things started but not completed.
I mean its all around me. Everywhere I look. The painting project propped in the corner, waiting for new inspiration. The scrapbook pages sitting on the table patiently waiting to be glued and put away in the scrapbook. The plaster pieces naked in spots, missing paint, with dust catching in the crevices as though to taunt me. The novel that’s still a series of notes and half chapters on my desk waiting for the time when I have that ‘extra’ minute to begin deciphering the scribbled, inspired writing onto my computer.
A glance around my office reveals so much half-done, in some stage of creative development. I don’t want to die saying I wish I had written that story or painted that painting.
Will I die saying I wish I had finished it? Or is that just the way life is? A series of starts – dreams and promises of your life’s masterpiece just inches out of reach. Each beginning a realization that there is so much inside you to get out – so much potential.
I look around my office and I’m dazzled by the dreams I’ve had. And still have. Perhaps today is the day to start that new painting. And when the wet paint smears across the fresh canvas I’ll be so inspired to not only finish it but its companion sitting patiently in the corner.
I wouldn’t trade my ‘half-done’ life for anything.
And those half-finished projects? Are they doomed never to be completed for all eternity, thus serving no purpose. Or do they inspire us to keep reaching out and trying for perfection – that one thing that will live on long after my life is done?
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