Writer's block hit me like a two-hour flight delay—fitting as my kids prepare for their first flight this Friday. At ages 4, 6, and 12, they're about to experience something I didn't until I was 21. Seeing them have this adventure so early in life is extraordinary. The leadup's been busy, but that's just how it goes. I find joy in both the chaos and the calm.
Sitting down for my daily writing, my mind felt like a plane stuck on the tarmac. The ideas are scribbled in notes, but the spark isn't igniting. Usually, I can stare at my thoughts for a bit, and something clicks. My hands start moving across the keyboard like that scene from Ghost in the Shell - the anime, not the live-action, which shouldn't need clarification, but here we are.
But tonight, the robot hands aren't cooperating. Writer's block has grounded me, and with it, those familiar thoughts:
Who cares if you stop?
What's the worst that happens if you miss a day?
You're the only one who'll notice... and will you really?
You're tired. Who wants to stay up cobbling together half-baked ideas?
I'm not too fond of these thoughts. They've derailed me before like turbulence, knocking a plane off course. The block is real, the fatigue is real, and the headache is definitely real. It's all valid, and it's okay to acknowledge that.
It's okay to be tired. It's not okay to break my word.
Your word has to mean something. So here I am, showing up, keeping my promise, pushing through the headwinds.
This struggle to write when I'm tired mirrors the larger challenge of showing up for our families when work has drained us. I have more significant ideas I'm working out. Questions like:
I don't match my career efforts in other areas of my life. As a husband, I've often fallen short in the work it takes to make a house a home. These topics deserve exploration when I have the mental fuel to do them justice.
For now, this is me bypassing the default of quitting. It's not my best work, but it's honest. It's showing up when it's hard because that's what matters. Sometimes, the victory is in simply refusing to let writer's block or any other obstacle keep you grounded.
Until Tomorrow,
John D