When one is task oriented and working to deadlines,
the work becomes scripted and static.
Sure there are moments that shine,
but they're in the initial spark of the idea
or reserved for the intro or concluding paragraph.
Never in the middle, in the meat of the piece.
When one is free to write for writing sake,
the work becomes invisible
or even ceases to exist.
When creativity has no bounds
it often flies away.
I’m completely convinced that if I talk through an issue or situation thoroughly with a trusted individual or take the time to sit and write it out, I will arrive at the problem or underlying emotion at its core.
Not because I’m a genius. But because I know myself well.
Both my interior movings and motivations and my ability to let the hectic pace of life pull me right along with it, blurring the signposts along the way.
If I moved slower or stopped more frequently, I would see the patterns of programming peeking through. I would be alert to the where and why-for of my feelings, thoughts, and actions. I would be able to stop at the head of a trail instead of barreling straight down it. I could course correct before the wheels locked into the well-rutted tracks.
Having such an epiphany when talking to my therapist today, I put my folded hands to my forehead and sighed, “Ugh, reprogramming is so hard.”
She started tapping her forehead, as if pressing a button with a beep to stop a function, saying, “Yes, I am worthy, I am loved, I can change my conditioning.”
For that’s what it is: social conditioning, programming – call it what you will. It is the patterns our mind has learned and practiced that we think are gospel simply because they are so well traveled.
We can change the paradigm.
We can force reboot, restart, turn off then on again –
and start fresh.
Chopping Potatoes 