Then, in the far distance — as it sped faster and faster — it saw something emerging out of the Nothing. An object of sorts, still too distant to discern, yet rapidly approaching as the speed of the Train of Thought had accelerated to exponential, existential proportions. The object grew larger and larger, directly ahead — on track, on the tracks. As it neared, the object revealed itself to be a block. A block of immense proportions.
Though it was painfully clear that there would be no stopping in time, the Train of Thought pressed the brakes with all its might. But as time did not stop, neither did the Train of Thought. It struck the object — the block — head-on.
The Train of Thought had hit a writer’s block.
It reversed. Changed tracks. Sped off in another direction — still manic — now escaping the block. But before long, an even larger block than the last one obstructed its path. And so it reversed again. Changed tracks. Hurried forward, desperate to make up for lost time toward a destination it did not have. It had lost its train of thought — and kept searching for a way around the block, though it did not know what to do were it ever to evade it. It was blocked either way — neither way to go.
With each detour, the blocks grew in size, until finally, it gave in at the next one, knowing full well it was truly blocked.
The root problem needed to be addressed.
Writer’s block is the act of criticizing something that doesn’t even exist yet.
You can edit bad writing, rethink the idea, adjust your course — but you cannot work on what hasn’t been created. You can always change it later.
The Train of Thought took a different track, away from the writer’s block — only to hit another. A quick switch of tracks — and it hit another. And another.
Allow yourself to choose the worst story arc, the weakest narrative, the most unconvincing plot. Go for the bad choice, the wrong option. It is only the pursuit of the best, the good, the perfect, that deceivingly blocks, tightens, restricts — boxes — creativity.
Perfection paralyzes because it allows the fear of doing it wrong. But the choice to do it badly — the flawed, the poor, the imperfect — that is what sets you free. For once you accept that you are already doing it wrong, the only possibility left is to do it right.
Do it badly.
And if you still feel reluctant, then make it worse. Be low. Be filled with errors and mistakes — illogical, irrational. Aim to be last, forgotten, unrecognized.
Allow yourself to be the failure you fear to become, so that failure ceases to be a possibility. It becomes an actuality.
And once it is real — the only possibilities that remain are..
good.