Deciding to do something is not the same as doing it.
You can spend as much time as you want writing lists of things you're going to do; wonderful, adventurous, rapturous lists of life goals and diet plans and daily tasks, but at the end of the day, the list is proof of nothing. The intention to do is the art of not quite doing.
We've been kicking an idea around here for a little while now, and the idea has changed a little bit and grown a little bit and shrunk a little bit and we've talked about it and looked into different options and started sort of nibbling at the edges of it.
And this is not entirely because we are not do-ers. I'd consider us do-ers in the grand scheme of things, but life at the moment (at all moments, but particularly right now) is not the simplest and sadly Colour of Fruit does not exist in a vaccuum, and we haven't been able to really get going.
There was a conversation this week that felt a lot like the tipping point. We've got all of our ducks in a row and we've decided - as far as you can decide before you involve other people and their schedules and all of the unforeseen mess that that inevitably invites.
And still, even though we have everything ready that we can, there was still a certain amount of..."are we doing this then?"..."yes?"..."we just have to actually, you know, do it"..."we're doing it"..."ok we're doing it"...involved in the conversation we were having.
And it made me wonder why it is this point that is so difficult, like activation energy for a chemical reaction (science simile! woo!), you have to overcome this point. You are teetering on the edge of doing but the act of jumping in and doing it is the hardest part of the journey from conception to completion. That leap.
And I think, for us especially because we tend to struggle with this fierce and occasionally stupid kind of independence where we think that everything will just be easier if we do it all ourselves - direction, production, set design, props, costumes, marketing, if we had our way venue, lighting, etc. - it's because this is the moment where you lose control a little bit.
When you have an idea it's entirely yours, you control it, and you know that if it's just you, with your dedication and your smooth working relationship with yourself, you can definitely do this. But at the point where other variables are coming in to get involved: will we find good actors? Will the actors turn up to rehearsals? Will people buy tickets? Will the people who buy tickets LIKE the show? Will the people printing your marketing material understand how crucial it is that the text alignment is exactly 13 pixels from the left edge of the poster?
All good questions. And all impossible to answer. And it is that impossibility, that uncertainty of how your venture is going to go, of the things that you can't control, that keeps you on the edge, that keeps you in the realm of deciding, and out of the realm of doing, that keeps you from taking that leap.
We're about to take a leap, and it's always scary and never goes how you want it to. Your trajectory is never quite as clear as you see it in your head, you get buffeted by an unforeseen wind and twist your ankle on a hidden boulder and when you hit the floor you are scraped and scruffy and tired and overwhelmed and this is not at all what you had in mind when you decided to jump off the cliff.
But the thing is, you still hit the floor, and you survived the leap, you still did the thing, even if it went slightly differently than you had imagined. And that's what I'm trying to keep in mind this week as my feet forsake the lovely safe certainty of the ground for the uncontrolled resistance of the rushing air. This thing will get done. One way or another, we will hit the ground. We just have to keep our eyes on the landing zone and ensure that our body positions are as aerodynamic as possible.
Did I take the metaphor too far? Not even a little bit.