This year and last year were learning years. I was getting used to how getting older is affecting me — both physically and emotionally. I’m not young anymore. I don’t have the mental constitution that I used to. Emotionally, I can’t not live my life and just throw myself at work.
I really have to learn how to prioritize and focus because I can no longer multi-task like I used to. I can’t juggle multiple big projects like I did in 2012 to 2014.
In 2012, I was juggling five film scripts and never missed a deadline and passed good work and still had little projects on the side. I had energy and drive and the mental stamina to soldier through and still have a life. That’s not me anymore.
I’m wondering now if No Filter had anything to do with that. I was working solely on the play, attending every rehearsal and spending all my energy on the show that my brain sort of wired itself to that sort of process. Afterwards, my kidneys failed and I was gone from any work for a whole year, recuperating, and now that I’m back, it seems that my process has changed.
I just want to work solely on one thing at a time.
I’m almost done with this script that I’m working on. My first feature film in four years. My first since T’yanak back in 2014. I’ve got a documentary coming up next and another big project that I’m taking a step back from (but will still be working but with reduced capacities). I’m also going to finish the television show I’m doing with Lifestyle Network, the second season of At the Table and then I’m going to take a break from big projects.
I want to focus on teaching and putting together the means for beginning my post-graduate studies (see my post about that here).
It’s not a bad thing. I’m understanding my limits and working with it and around it. It’s painful to realize you aren’t as strong or as a capable as you once were but I know my writing will only improve with the dedication now to one project.
Knowing your limits is a strength, I would like to think. Recognizing it and respecting it. There’s no point in burning out. Not now. Not when I’m leveling up with this new movie. Not when I’ve discovered this new passion for teaching.
I always play the long game.