Ever feel like you are so obsessed with the proverbial forest that you are anxiously cutting down the trees surrounding you to have a clearer view of that elusive big picture?
I've been doing that, caught in an evil thought cycle of a thousand questions:
why am I in theater, is theater artistic masturbation, does it matter if it is, what will I look like when I am 40, who will hire me when I am 40, who will love me when I am 40, will I be homeless when I am 40? Is having children unethical, is organic food really organic, is Fair Trade a scam, are grad students really smarter or just more programmed, and of course, if none of it matters on a global scale is there any purpose for my existance?
Round and round I go.
The more I think, the less action I take, generally becoming everything I dread becoming.
sigh.
Guess it is time to save the trees, and hope the forest will take care of itself.