how to draw the line between fun and avoidance

Time for a confession.


I’ve been avoiding you.


Well, not you specifically, but the idea of you.


The you that hears me and sees me and maybe starts to expect me every Friday.


This blog has been my weekly practice for over a year and a half, acting as a consistent reflection point and signal to slow down and get real with myself by sharing with you -- But what happens on the weeks when I just don’t feel like slowing down and showing up? (No matter what your work or creative practice is, I’m sure you can relate.)


Well, it’s Friday afternoon and I finally made it to a park bench with enough time alone to ponder this question, and here’s my report:


Let’s put it into context by tuning into the wheel of the year...


It’s summer.



Less clothes, less barrier to the world.

Going out more.




It’s a rush of freedom before we start hunkering down into the more orderly rhythm of the fall.


This all can make it hard to be focused and centered, right?


It’s easy to skip over the time usually spent journaling, yoga-ing, meditating, or practicing whatever keeps us centered, and instead luxuriate in staying in bed later, or dance under the moonlight until later than a “responsible” hour.


What I’m learning is that there’s a line between fun and avoidance. What I’m questioning is:

When is it healthy and beneficial to let loose and break the rules, and when does it become a way of avoiding something deeper or pushing past healthy limits?


Everyone has their own threshold and I’m not here to tell you what yours is. I am here, though, to give you a loving nudge in the direction of your creative self.

When the time is right, check in and see what’s happening below the surface:


  • Is there something you need but haven’t had time for?
  • Is there a place you’re longing to visit or a conversation you’re longing to have with someone?
  • Do you need to let some tears go or dance out your frustrations?


Indulge in the summer rush while it’s hot, but slowly begin to make time to listen and reflect. In a few months from now, you’ll thank yourself for doing so.


If you need an open ear, you know where to share. (right here! in the comment box below)


I read and respond to every message, and will gladly accept non-avoidance at it’s finest.


There. I feel better now.

Hope you do, too.


with cheers, fears, and sometimes beers,