Let's Try This Again

My mind wanders

I have been reflecting on why I struggle to do anything anymore.

That might be a little hyperbolic. I am primarily referring to creative endeavours. I used to sit and draw for hours every day when I was a child. When I was a teenager, I would play guitar for even longer. There was no notion of end product or concern about being particularly good. I did it simply because I enjoyed it. Somewhere along the way, however, and I do not think I am alone in this, I became paralysed by my desire to be good. To be the best. As I write these words, it seems so laughable. Yet here we are.

Beyond my crippling perfectionism/laziness, a key tenet of my avoidance strategy has been learning. Of course, learning is integral to life and something intrinsic to what I feel makes a good life. That said, learning is also a truly excellent form of procrastination—one that operates under the guise of productivity. When I am “learning”, I have a sense of motion. But it is a false sense of motion.

I have previously written about having a creative itch but lacking direction. I think this is ultimately the crux of the issue. I feel compelled to create but do not know where to start.

I recently finished re-reading Atomic Habits by James Clear—a book that has become so prevalent in the self-improvement space that it feels cliche to reference. It is interesting that books need to be found at the right time. I read Atomic Habits several years ago and whilst everything within its pages seemed sensible and somewhat motivational, I simply consumed the book without much thought and put it away. This time, however, I am doing my utmost to absorb the wisdom within its pages. More importantly, with so many practical takeaways, I am working to put James’ suggestions into practice. I am particularly drawn to the notion of small but consistent daily achievements as I work my way back to normality after a fairly debilitating illness. Suddenly James’ assertion that a single push-up each day is better than nothing doesn’t feel so frivolous.

My favourite anecdote from the book concerns a photography class where a teacher decided to split his students into two groups. One group would receive an A so long as they produced a set number of photographs by a given deadline. The number was purposefully high—around 100 or so. The other group would be graded on the quality of a single photograph. When the results of the groups’ respective efforts came in, interestingly it was group A, the group focused solely on output, that produced the best photographs. It seems as though whilst one group was busy taking as many photos as possible, the other was overly preoccupied with conceptualising the perfect photograph to no avail.

I know ‘practise makes perfect’ is an idiom as old as time but it is one that is so easy, for me at least, to forget. I am (slowly) arriving at the conclusion that I will not know what creative pursuit I find rewarding until I actually start creating.

With that said, I am committing to writing one short-form essay per week. Now that I have this meandering (re)introductory piece out of the way, I am really interested to see what comes next as I genuinely have no idea. See you next week.