I finished my book--that's a good feeling. I feel like starting another book--that's a bad thing. I finished a painting--that's a good feeling. I'd like to start another painting. But instead I will take some time off.
The following poem by Joyce Riley expresses my feelings very well.
A New Page
I turned the pages, scene by scene
and filled the spaces in between.
"Grocery shop", "Clean and mop"
"An appointment and a meeting"
"Garden day, Bills to pay"
"Time to change the sheeting"
Some days I raced, pursuing youth.
I even wrote down, "pray for truth"
On any day the world could view
long lists of things I had to do.
That calendar has now been cast
into a closet called, "the past"
A new one bids me, "Start again"
"Be sure to write down where and when"
I fear to think what life would be
without those pages guiding me.
Still, I wonder, "If I leave bare
"One day here and one day there
"Would it make much difference when
"A new year comes around again?"
I think it might just suit me well
to plan on nothing for a spell.
To wake and rise just when I like.
To throw on clothes and take a hike
Or tuck myself into a nook
and read an uninstructive book
To be, not aimless but loose and free.
I think I'll schedule that day for me.
by Joyce Riley