Permanently on the back burner

There are many things I imagine I’d like to do and might perhaps do some day, but just not yet. I’m waiting until the time is right. I’m not talking about those pesky jobs that feature on a to-do list, but about full-blown projects requiring a significant commitment of time, energy and imagination.  I’m wondering what it would take for me even to start any one of these demanding projects – what alignment of stars and planets would be required.

For instance, I dream of being a calligrapher. I can imagine myself seated at an angled drawing board with a piece of buff-coloured parchment in front of me and my pen skimming across the page, forming elegant loops and swirls as it goes. In fact, I have had a calligraphy set for so long that I think the ink must have dried up by now. Not one to learn from experience, I bought another calligraphy set in Shanghai. It’s a beautiful thing and full of exquisite accoutrements that are no doubt essential to the calligrapher’s craft, if only I knew what most of them were for. The phrase “all the gear, no idea” was probably coined with me in mind. I even took a calligraphy course once, only to quit halfway through because I couldn’t bear the sensation of the nib scratching on the paper.

On the remote end of the probability scale, I also long to be a neuroscientist. I know, even I have to admit that I’m somewhat more likely to overcome my aversion to scratchy nibs than I am to be accepted onto a neuroscience course and then actually finish it. I have taken a few short courses on the brain, in a classroom and online, and found them fascinating, but also very challenging to one with no science background whatsoever. Some nuggets of information have stuck, but I’ve forgotten so much more than I can remember. If I were really motivated, I’d go over my course notes and properly learn them. Then I’d re-read the (few) books I have on the brain. I see one very chunky one is called The Brain in Minutes, but I have my doubts.

You could argue that, for some of us, one of the very few benefits of this grim pestilent year has been the gift of time. Surely those hours once spent socialising and travelling should have been filled with a grand project rather than simply sorting out the kitchen drawers? They weren’t, so time alone was obviously not enough. Maybe heavenly intervention is required after all. There is speculation that the eight major planets will next align on 6 May 2492, so I don’t think the world will be marvelling at my elegant calligraphy or insights into the brain any time soon.