a dark corridor

There are some days that I can look at a piece of paper or the blinking cursor of a document, and let words flow from my pen or fingertips.  Those are the days that I, an aspiring writer, cherish.  It's rewarding to see ideas travel from one end of the page to the other.   It makes me feel that I'm not wasting my time with the passions that I hold in my heart.  Having tens of hundreds of ideas running around in your head is wonderful, to the point where you're creating more and more, and you're feeling happier and happier.  The days that I can sit and release those ideas are ones that invoke the best feeling of pride and excitement for the next brainstorm to make its way out in the form of ink.



Then there are the days that I see a blank piece of paper and all I see is white.  Those are the days that I fear the most, and when they make their way into my brain, it's all I can see for a while. These days can turn into weeks, and then you're stuck wondering if there's anything good left in your brain to share.  It's like I'm abandoned in a dark corridor, but I have to navigate it blindly to find the exit.  The exit, of course, being a word covered document and a feeling of accomplishment.  But as I'm stuck feeling my way around and coming up empty, all I can feel is disappointment and anger.  Disappointment, that the ideas that I had written so long ago are the only things I have to offer my own self, in hopes to unblock the barrier that's holding all my ideas for ransom.  And anger, for not being strong enough to combat the darkness of that corridor that keeps me from inspiration.



When I'm stuck in that corridor for what can be many weeks, I can easily find myself becoming bored with my day-to-day life.  I don't think my body becomes aware of the repetition yet my brain is in overdrive with the realization.  I sit in the same spot for hours trying to fill the time that I would usually be placing words and forming art, but instead, I'm trashing useless pages and falling down the Netflix rabbit hole.  This continues until I fall asleep and I wake up to do it all over again.  The dark corridor that I've been walking down has only gotten longer and if I'm being honest, darker than when I first entered.



The dark corridor and I have spent so long together that we are well acquainted, but I can still feel the impending goodbyes that we are bound to have, as I traverse my way to fresh creativity.  I've become jaded with my lack of ideas during my stay, so much that I fear I'll end up right back here after my departure.  But, eventually, I'll have to muster up the courage to be willing to have ideas, despite the possibility of their unpopularity in my brain.  The darkness that I've been walking in for what feels like a lifetime finally allows me to see the door that leads to a plethora of new ideas to explore and expand on.



As I open the door, my brain is swept up in the feeling of euphoria and immense inspiration that I can't manage to fully comprehend.  I find that I no longer resent the empty notebooks and blank documents that I have left untouched, but I'm drawn back in, ready to let my fingers take over and let my brain shut off.  I feel like I'm in a movie montage, rapidly creating words at a pace that would take too long to capture.  It's refreshing to enjoy looking at blank pages again and see an entire concept roaming through my brain.  The dark corridor that I had lost all inspiration and gained circles under my eyes has become the spark I needed to welcome colored sticky notes on my desk again.



Whenever I find myself back in that dark corridor, I realize that I don't need to rush my time there, but instead embrace the time away from the countless ideas and taunting blank pages.  If anything, my brain feels free, and there's no weight of trying to perfect the words I write.  Inspiration will spark at the moments that I need it most, and maybe at the most inopportune times, but they'll make themselves known nonetheless.  I know that no matter how long I am without ideas and stuck alone in the dark corridor, a freedom with words will always be within arms reach.

(Share your personal creative obstacles in the comments below!  I would love to hear from you. 😊)