Tuesday, June 21, 2016

How do you make it stop?

I hope the person asking this is healthy and not suffering from mental illness. The title, below, is the link to the Quora post where one other (at the time of writing this) has posted as well.

Brian Dean
Brian Deanstudied creativiti for 7 years and counting - some day I'll have it figured out
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I have the opposite problem. My final paragraph directly responds to the question but I ramble a bit getting there.
I have trouble with the motivation to write. I want to but ‘wanting’ doesn’t put me in the seat, tapping the keys. During NaNoWriMo (an international writing festival) I get motivated enough to really write. The urge to write and the ideas needed flow the entire time.
Yes, I have trouble sleeping. Yes, I keep a notepad by my bed and that eases the pressure a little. I don’t entirely like it. I feel pressured. The ideas distract me. but I am grateful because I feel I am doing something.
This pressure is identical, by the way, to the stress and nonstop internal dialog I experienced as a competitive swimmer at a big swim meet. I went to sleep in the hotel room thinking about swimming and woke up three times thinking I was late for the competition or that I had already swam it. I would finally wake up near the proper time thinking about nothing but swimming. I suspect I was selfishly focused and my parents were tolerant.
Entrepreneurs talk about the long hours they put in and how they feel exhausted…and great! I have a bit of that feeling as the work is mine and I am creating something meaningful.
I’m a lazy man who is lucky to have a satisfactory job but it is difficult to make myself write. I am too comfortable so when I am a little discomforted by many new ideas, I make the most of it.
There are people who legitimately could be diagnosed as obsessive and I hope such people can find peace.
For the rest of us, I find a notepad beside the bed and a few minutes at the end of the day writing or mind-mapping my ideas for the next day and beyond relaxed me. That way, I don’t worry that I will forget them. And I am grateful for the pressure and, well, colour, in a life that is a little too gray sometimes.

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