It’s after midnight, and my mind isn’t really sharp right now. I’m sleepy and hungry because I didn’t eat dinner. I had to make do with the two mini apples and almond butter I just ate. I’m still hungry, though. I shouldn’t have even eaten anything this late. I’ll feel it in the morning.
Nevertheless, I sat down waiting for something to come to mind like normal, but the only thing that’s coming to mind is how much I really wanted to skip writing tonight. I’m a little uncomfortable acknowledging that because I haven’t really wanted to skip writing before tonight, and maybe that means something. The fact that I feel uncomfortable about wanting to skip writing is also annoying because I don’t want this to turn into a task, especially when it hasn’t been.
But at this moment, I also recognize just how quickly my ego created a problem. This has happened before. The fact of the matter is I’m sitting down right now, writing. Yet, I’m thinking about the fact that I didn’t want to write and what it means that I have feelings about not wanting to write. What does it mean that I have these feelings? Nothing. It means absolutely nothing. I’m tired and sleepy, and I wanted to stay in bed.
So here’s what I think the lesson is in this mental merry-go-round I just participated in and that you’re reading. I didn’t want to write, and I felt disappointed in myself because this was the first time I didn’t. Then when I made the conscious choice to come downstairs and write, I was annoyed that I had to force myself because I told myself that not wanting to write would ultimately lead to writing becoming a task.
That’s what happened.
What also happened is everything I’ve written up until this point was me trying to write my way out of how I was feeling, hoping to drift into writing about something else. So you had to read through me working out what was happening. You also read through me realizing what I was doing in my mind. I was creating a story after I had created the unrealistic expectation that I would never not feel like writing. And what was behind that? Fear. Fear that if it starts to feel like a task, I will stop writing or stop enjoying writing. The way it’s been since 2012.
I have to remember that I’m different now.
Things are different now. Writing is different now. More to explore here.
That’s all I have for now.