Presence

Since my last movie ended, while waiting for the next to begin in March, I’ve had time to fall into a natural daily rhythm, of which writing these posts is now a part.  Without work as an anchor, I try to keep to a schedule of sorts, albeit a loose one that involves afternoon walks, writing, and tea drinking.  Trying to fill these empty days in a way that is meaningful and doesn’t just skip over them as the time between jobs, is something I’ve spent the past ten years figuring out.

I wake, make my way downstairs, and turn on the kettle.  I open the curtain on the large, south facing, kitchen window and even on the rare cloudy day, light fills the main room of my house.  With my tea and my most recent gluten free (more on that to come) breakfast discovery, I sit at the kitchen table, turn on the computer, and after first clicking on The New York Times to make sure the world hasn’t ended (sad but true), I end up on wordpress.  I think for a few minutes of what I feel like writing and, more often than not, go with the first idea that pops into my head.

After posting my latest ponderings, I think of a plan for the rest of the day. Small tasks left over from my remodel kept me busy for most of January and February and recently I’ve turned my sights on my yard. It is still too cold to do much outside, but I’m coming up with a plan with the help of pinterest, books, and daily walks through the neighborhood, for what to do once spring arrives.

In addition to checking home projects and basic life organization off my list, I try to concentrate on things that I miss and have no time to do when working 80 hours a week on a movie. I cook, I baby my plants, I ride my bike around the neighborhood, I drink too much wine with friends on weeknights, I read until late, and I allow myself to be lazy.  I get great joy out of organizing my life, whether perfecting a new filing system or decorating my house, knowing that these things will be my anchor once the days are too busy to think or deal with anything other than work and sleep.

It’s a strange, imbalanced life and has taken me years to figure out.  At some point, when I was younger and new to the film industry, I realized that I was counting down the days in my life; I was either on a film waiting for it to wrap or between films, waiting for a new one to begin. I was never really present. This was a startling realization and one that I worked very hard to reverse and change.  I now try to do small things while working that keep me involved in my life, whether it is a yoga mat on the floor of my hotel room, weekly dates with friends, or simply remembering to be present at work, realizing what a bizarre job I have and appreciating it, even when I’m tired.  And, when I am off, I try to appreciate that time, taking care of business, going on trips, spending time with friends and family and taking time in the morning to talk to my plants.

By continuously counting down the days, always feeling like it should have been different than it was, or that happiness and contentment were things that would simply appear in my life when the outside circumstances were perfect, I spent years of my life unhappy and not really living. It was only when I became truly present, whether working or off or home or away, that I began to see the opportunities and beauty that were all around.