It is the classic scenario: gripped with a burst of creativity, all you want to do is write, and so you do, sometimes for days without thought for anything else. Then, as quickly as it began, your creativity simply vanishes, and there’s weeks full of no desire to do anything. It’s a classic tale, and only now am I beginning to grasp how this malaise effectively prevented me from completing anything for close to a decade. Except now, finally, I am taking back control of my own brain.
The key, ultimately, is allowing brain the opportunity to filter everything. That’s finally happening with the inclusion of regular exercise, and an ability to step away from worries and fears. It helps greatly to have the support of family and friends too, something that was not really as big a deal as is now the case. Mostly, not being overly harsh on myself for shortcomings is the key. I am no longer my own worst enemy. This space and time has allowed so much to be not only organised but settled in my own head, for which there may be no real way to adequately thank my husband for.
What has to happen now is to capitalise on what is possible as a result of this change.
Well, Jean-Luc, I shut the fuck up and get on with it.