• The mountain of someday.
The other night I woke up with a start because I had thought of something I had been meaning to do for a bit but had not done. I lay back on my pillow and thought to myself that I would “add it to the mountain of someday.” Then I mused on that phrase for a bit and thought it would make a cool song -- someday. And suddenly my mind was off the races, madly cycling though the many, many, many ideas I’ve had this past year but not pursued, beyond jotting them into Evernote or Google Docs. Just before drifting back off to sleep, I resolved to try to remember the phrase (no, I did not write it down, foolish) and thought of an image that might help me recall it: a stack of New Yorkers. I used to subscribe to this venerable pub, but had to stop, because I never had time to read everything I wanted to read and so I kept piling magazine upon magazine and building a literal mountain of someday. I finally couldn’t stand to look at it, saved my five issues and tossed the rest in the recycling bin. I felt much better. But the ideas in my head cannot be so easily discarded, nor do I want them to be. There are songs, screenplay notions, sci-fi novels, business ideas, all mostly shapeless hopes just waiting for a forge and hammer. Someday.