It’s easy to come up with something to fill the space. Pass it off as art. Pass it off as meaningful. Pass it off.
It’s not easy to dig deep.
But what I want is to share something that comes from that deep place. It’s not like I never do. I have before. It’s just…harder.
I know there is value in keeping things light sometimes. Why always rake yourself over the coals or empty the tank? But I feel like I’ve got something more to say that I can quite reach yet.
I watched a movie last night that I really liked. The writing and acting was excellent. I was really surprised by it. It wasn’t at all what I expected but it had me compelled from start to finish. That’s rare. I’m often distracted and half paying attention.
And I want to write about the movie. But I haven’t left myself enough time to really write about it the way I want to. To take the time to analyze how it made me feel. The ups and downs. The subtleties and intricacies of a great film.
And that got me thinking about constraints. Sometimes they are good. They keep us in line. Like setting a deadline or a daily goal. But what about a lack of constraints? What could I write without a time limit? Or any limits for that matter?
I wonder. What if I had days and weeks and months to just write? Would I be able to write a book? Something that I’ve had on my list for decades. Or would the open space and time create its own version of constraint and keep me stuck in this in between. The in between where I’m getting words out there every day but not quite the ones I want to?
But that’s a fantasy. That’s not the real world. I have a job. And family. And things I have to do. I can’t just stop everything to write all the time.
Right?
