Back-up plans

My dear friend wrote to me today about a mantra she's got.  It's a good one for all striving/struggling artists: "don't have a backup plan because you'll fall back on it."

Her goal:  to avoid the 9-5 day job for AT LEAST a year, to make sure her energy is aimed straight at her writing.  I applaud that.

It also makes me wonder: what IS a backup plan?  Is it something you'd be happy doing if your dream plan doesn't work out?  Is it the way you make ends meet while you wait for your dream plan to work out?  When does a plan move from a "good, practical version of how to have a life doing what you want to do" to "backup plan?"

This is an honest question.  It makes me think about the obituary I wrote yesterday (for myself).  Is it truly the height of my ambition?  Is  it a "backup plan" with some bells and whistles?

Where do we draw the line between artists who give everything to our art, and people who MUST live in the world as citizens, friends, children, parents (with all the responsibilities to ourselves and  others that those roles entail) while STILL finding time to fan the flames of our "inner artist?"

That "flame" analogy may seem a little over the top...but sometimes I imagine that my writing is a small fire, zippo-size, that I can warm my hands at...but that I also have to protect from strong winds, with my whole body if necessary.  My job is to keep the flame going so that it can keep ME going.  Which maybe means I can't have a backup plan (which would snuff out the flame), or maybe means that I HAVE to have one (to keep the wind at bay).

I don't think artists have the monopoly on this analogy.  Most people I know have  their own flame, the thing that protects them and needs protecting, the engine that keeps them moving through the world.  There are friends for whom it's religion, family, teaching, service...important to remember and honor that, too.

All that to say, I think my friend has discovered what she needs to do to keep her flame lit.  Which is awesome.