Often, in the morning, I’ll get fixated on what I call the new notebook syndrome. What it is, is me thinking that if I had the perfect new notebook, I could write something great. If I had this or that or the other thing — or did this or that or the other — then I’d be good: then, I’d be settled and I could be all together and calm and have the space to do what I want to do.
I swear to God, I spent at least a decade racing off to Homegoods, or somewhere else, to get throw pillows, or a coffee table, a shoe rack, overhead lamp, bookcase, filing cabinet, or something else. I thought I had to get these things before I could get down to work.
Once my friend Jane said to me, ‘You know, we’re never going to get it all done. It’s never going to be finished and all tied up neatly in a bow.’
She meant life. All of it: the feelings, desires, dust, missing buttons, dreams. And I know she’s right.
I know much of the time when I think I need the perfect thing before I can get down to work, it’s an illusion: It’s not true. It’s some kind of anxiety that sends me on a detour as a way to avoid work. It’s resistance.
Do you know what I mean?
Thank you, I thought it was just me 🤗