The Art of Procrastination

By Hadassa Daniels

You're super excited. 

You've just gotten an incredible opportunity. You're brimming with so many original and creative ideas that you can hardly stand it. In fact, you're so pumped to get started that you keep fantasizing about the final product: what it'll look like, how people will respond, perhaps it will even be a global success! You roll your eyes at yourself, even though you're still smiling. Fixing yourself a large cup of coffee, you're a jumble of nerves and excitement as you start thinking about how much (or rather, how little) time you have to complete the project. But today you put aside two hours of uninterrupted time, so you relax a bit, knowing you could potentially get a lot done. At the very least, a good start. Grabbing your mug, your phone ("just in case"), and your overexcited mind, you sit down in front of your laptop. With a dramatic sigh, you open a new project in _ . Your fingers hover over the keyboard, awaiting the abundant brilliance that is about to flow through them and onto the screen. You hold your breath, waiting expectantly and... 

Nothing. 

Fidgeting impatiently, you decide to check your email/Facebook/Instagram, because let's face it, nothing gets your creative juices flowing quite like perusing through the productive and prolific lives of your social media friends. One sandwich, two Netflix episodes, another coffee, and an hour and a half later, you've resigned to the fate of your neglected project: it just wasn't meant to be. You'll get started tomorrow. 

Now, I may be exaggerating here, maybe not, but how many artists experience this on a regular basis? 

Balancing school with family and domestic life tends to be somewhat time-consuming, which is why I generally prefer not to take on (m)any extra projects. That's what I like to use as my practical, "adult" excuse. Works every time. 

But the real reason? Fear. Perfectionism. Can'tmakeupmymindism (also known as "avoidance"), Etc. 

Little did I know about the "extra project" that would soon fall into my unsuspecting lap. One day I received an email from the head of my department, Dr. Amit Weiner, about ARTS by The People's Intonation project (an international collaboration between composers and poets), and admittedly my curiosity and interest got the better of me. I decided to go against my rational, time-frugal, better judgment and sent in an application. 

A few weeks later I sat huddled with my fellow composers in a cozy room at the Jerusalem Academy of Music, while Amit was setting up a Skype meeting with Paul Rabinowitz. I was busy giving myself an internal lecture, muttering about self-imposed deadlines and superfluous commitments. At the end of the meeting, which was very pleasant, Paul said something that grabbed my attention and, quite frankly, surprised me. He told us to be as experimental as we wished, and to focus on the creative process itself (I'm paraphrasing). 

I left that meeting feeling 100 pounds lighter... and actually pretty excited! And as it turned out, the project ended up being quite enjoyable, and I have fond memories of working on it. 

Sometimes we lose focus. We forget why we do what we do in the first place. We wonder why we stopped loving our art, why we've lost our passion. We become hyper-focused on the results, and forget to stop and smell the roses. Writing, dancing, or composing becomes a chore, a burden, a deadline to make. 

So, at the risk of sounding dreadfully cliché, maybe life isn't about reaching the goal, but rather how we get there? And who knows what we'll discover if we stop to look around, take a deep breath, and enjoy the view? Maybe the secret lies in the joy of remaining present. Maybe then, we'll learn the true, delightful meaning of play.