Here I am, about to go on an amazing trip. Still, I’m not leaving yet, and there’s work to do. It’s a weekday, so I need to get through my 1500 words of fiction today.
Likewise, there’s a blog that needs to be pre-written further out than usual. I’m not going to have the time or inclination to be writing this while I’m on vacation. Guess what? Doing art of any kind as your vocation is still work. Work causes at least some mental stress, even when you love your work. Ergo, you need to take a break from time to time.
Let me be blunt here. I’ve written the above more for me than for you. Convincing myself that I’m allowed to take a break is challenging.
However, that written, I’m not off the hook. There’s work to be done, words to be written, stories to be told. So even with the next book laid out, and work underway, why do I feel like the screen is just staring back at me?
I know that there have been numerous studies that show multitasking isn’t at all what most think it to be (none of which I’m reading or citing here, FYI). What’s more, women are better capable at it in its true form than men are. Still, I’ve long prided myself on my ability to handle multiple tasks at once.
However, this can take a toll on me. I feel overwhelmed, like I’m missing something, like there’s something I’m supposed to be doing or working on or some such that I’m not. And with a vacation coming and things that need to be put in place before I go, that sense is causing slight anxiety.
I’m not naturally anxious by nature. So to everyone I know who deals with this regularly, I’m sorry. This sucks. The coming and going tightness in my chest as I’m trying to figure out what important thing isn’t getting done that I’m supposed to be doing is irksome and distressing. The ongoing writing I can’t seem to focus on feels like a heavy chore.
It just feels like the screen is staring back at me. Mockingly.
In reality, however, I know the screen isn’t staring back at me. This is my own anxiety, uncertainty, and various concerns manifesting. This isn’t something new; I’ve dealt with it before. Ergo, I can deal with it again.
To say that I force myself to sit at the keyboard and write is not entirely accurate. Sure, committing the act of addressing the screen can feel like I’m pushing myself. But the truth is that it’s just me getting over my shit and doing my thing.
Nearly all the work I do, both full-time and part-time, involves being in front of the screen. Writing, website development, and SEO work are all screen-time jobs. When I’m at work, I’m looking at the screen. (And to spare my eyes, I’m wearing blue-blocker glasses.)
Nobody, and I mean nobody, is on all the time. And by that, I mean nobody is always gung-ho, ready, and able to do their work. Doesn’t matter the job, everyone experiences times of uncertainty, distraction, discomfort, and a sense of being off. That’s human nature.
Let’s face it, humans are utterly fascinating when compared to the rest of the animal kingdom. No other creatures on this planet force their way into living in any habitat of their choosing and rely on tools for an almost surreal amount of their existence. Dogs, bears, and frogs don’t rely on cars and computers to get places and make plans or communicate with their companions.
Because we choose to be the way we are, we also stress ourselves. This is especially true when we fight to uphold “norms” that are not so normal or “always been that way” as we might think.
The point is, I’m not alone in how I’m feeling as I work on this. Others probably also feel like the screen stares back at them.
Maybe the screen is staring back at me. Given the increasing proliferation of AI, I can’t deny it’s possible. Granted, these screens (I have 3) all have no cameras, and the actual camera isn’t on. Or are you? Nope, not on.
Anyhow, the blank screen can be intimidating. I know this. I’ve always known this. Still, while it might take some time and effort to get started, once I do, I tend to find my flow. Sometimes greater or lesser, yet before I know it, the work is moving and getting done.
In the end, I love this work. I do what I do because this is what I enjoy. Even when it’s not easy.
The screen might be staring back, but instead of seeing that as judgment, I can choose to see it as a challenge. Maybe the screen is inviting me to take a new step, find new ways to tell a story (fiction or nonfiction), and/or address something in a new way.
This choice is on me. And I know that there’s no wrong choice, save one: Telling myself I’m a failure or unworthy and walking away completely. Sure, I can walk away for a time, but I choose to come back and face the screen and tell it what I desire it to show me.
And would you look at that? The screen’s not blank now, is it?
Thanks for reading. As I share my creative journey, please consider this: How are you inspired and empowered to be your own authentic creator, whatever form that takes?
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