Dates and Monsters

This morning I was thinking about what I would do for my weekly Artist's Date and I came to one conclusion: I have no idea.

In 2008, when I first went through The Artist's Way (Okay, honesty time here: part of The Artist's Way. Go away, Guilt Monster, I don't need you here. I know I chose to stop part way through the book, and no, that does not mean that I'll do the same thing this time.),  I was faithful with morning pages but never gave myself a weekly Artist's Date. Truth be told, I didn't see that as a priority.  And if we look at the whole truth, I gave myself plenty of excuses for ignoring the portion of the book that says "these are mandatory, just like morning pages." 

My resistance to the notion of Artist's Dates this time around sounds very much the same. My Guilt Monster (my own Jewish version of the Critic) rears its (ugly?) head and tells me all sorts of reasons why I just cannot buckle down and give myself time for a date:

• I don't have time to devote 2-ish hours to myself for something this childish. Couldn't I be doing something more productive? (My response, Guilt Monster: Go Away. I am taking care of me. I deserve a couple hours for me. Everyone else can have all my other hours, but these are mine.)
• I have no idea what to do. Isn't that a waste? Shouldn't I have a plan??? (Stupid Guilt Monster! I don't have to always be planned! I could try to paint something, or write a bit of my novel. I could decorate a cake or cookies.  I could go for a long walk.  Or maybe, just maybe, if the Universe gave me the snow day that I want for Thursday and just the right amount of snow, I could make a snowman! Or a snow family!!)
• If my artist is a child, that means I have no idea what my artist wants to do or would find fun because I have no idea what it was like to be a child (although there have been numerous times in my life when I have been childish -- sorry, Honey). If I never was a child, then this is just another ridiculous exercise in futility, this attempt to nurture some sort of inner creative child. (Guilt Monster, I am warning you -- you're on thin ice today! I may not know what children like, but I know what I like and I'll just go with that and eventually my creative child will let me know. Hopefully it won't involve adding more furry animals to the house...I think my child likes animals.)

 So I think that I've come to the conclusion, after a bit of Monster-wrestling (I won't say dragon-slaying because my Guilt Monster is still very much here and he's a bit too comfortable in his lair to leave just yet), that I do not have to decide right now what to do on my date. I will know later this week, Thursday or Friday or Saturday.  I will wake up, write my morning pages, and look out my kitchen window. And if I am really quiet on that particular morning, I will hear the whisperings of the Universe speaking to me on behalf of my silenced creative child, and I will know.  Or perhaps I won't, and that will be the day that I take my child for a walk and we learn to talk together.