Restlessness

The inclement prevailing climatic conditions - or bloody awful weather, if you will - of this bank holiday has prompted me to begin work on a major project.  It's one which I've been putting off for a while, for the sensible reason that it's daunting. 

And it's also encouraged a little of the dangerous pastime of doing some thinking, of which more in a moment.

First, that project.  I'm off on a cruise at the tail end of the year (the first time I've ever tried one), where I've been asked to give six lectures, each of an hour, on my books and writing.

I'm not complaining, naturally, but it is a little worrying.  Never before have I tried to string together so many coherent talks about how I write, the important question of why, my thoughts about how to do it, characters, plot, all that heady stuff.

At first, the main worry was that I wouldn't have enough material - which may come as a surprise to those of you who could be of the opinion that I can talk all day on just about anything. Well, I now think I'll be ok for content, but it did nonetheless give me a few fretful hours.

As for the spectre of thinking it created, that went roughly along these lines -

Why?

As in - why do I get myself into these things? And that's where the title of this blog comes in.

I've been forced to conclude a major feature of my personality is a restlessness.  I never seem to be able to stop.  I set myself one target, then have to move on to the next almost as soon as I've come anywhere near to attaining it.

I wanted to go to university, then be a DJ, then join the BBC, learn to be a reporter, then work in TV, then write a book, get it published, then do another one, then start teaching, write a play...

I seem to always need something new to entertain me.  I don't think that's necessarily an unhealthy thing (he attempts to comfort himself), as it certainly makes life interesting, but the question is - am I missing the occasional time when stopping might be a good idea?

Ah, maybe.  But then, it comes down to this, doesn't it?  How can we change what we are, and why should we?

And with that, I sense it's time to stop this musing.  Except to say - as I mentioned a few weeks ago - I'm coming to the end of the favourite songs I'm going to choose to accompany these writings. 

So, the tune I'll pick in my next blog will be my all time favourite.  Which means I'm not going to mention one here.  Instead - and I don't often do this - but how about a little quotation for a change? Oh, go on, you know you want to...

It's been sitting in mind since my thinking on the subject of restlessness started, to the extent that I added it to my new fangled internet Facebook thingy earlier -

"Clay lies still, but blood's a rover;
Breath's a ware that will not keep.
Up, lad; when the journey's over
There'll be time enough for sleep."

A E Housman - just wonderful.  He was a restless soul, too.