It’s Sunday night – long after I usually know what I’m going to write about for this note. But nothing is coming. My mind is blank. I’m tired.
Most weeks, I’ll be going about my day, and pop, an idea will light up in my mind. I’ll know exactly what I’m going to write about.
But sometimes it just doesn’t come. It gets to be Sunday and I get worried. I worry I’ll be found out as an impostor. I worry the ideas will never turn on again.
My first reaction is to try to force something, to come up with something I can maybe pass off as halfway new or thought-provoking. I’ve done this plenty before.
But maybe it’s more helpful to just accept these blank moments, to leave them be without resistance. Maybe the moments that feel the most blank, uncreative, and unproductive are the very moments when our best ideas are forming themselves, somewhere beyond our conscious thoughts.
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