Musings

Procrastination: My Jailer

Creativity is like hills and valleys. There are definite spikes—highs where everything and anything is possible. Ideas pour out of you like waterfalls, strong and unable to contain. Other times they’re valleys. Dearths that seem never-ending where you trip over your own feet as you try to see past the horizon. Nothing you do can seem to free you from this. All you want to do is find that sacred hill.

If I were honest however, writing is fraught more with valleys than with hills. The key is to keep walking even if you don’t feel like you’re going anywhere. Twice in this little bit I have stuttered trying to pull some brilliant prose out of this worn out brain. But the fault really comes with the expectation. The “brilliant” part. Even though I’m wise to know that everything first penned will not be perfect, I bring that expectation to the table and hope it will dance for me. All the while, I tiptoe past procrastination and hope I don’t wake it from its temporary slumber.

With accomplishment so little in my back pocket, I tend to hide away from those creative avenues that gave me such comfort. Communities that inspire and push towards improvement. I rather take comfort in my Youtube videos and social media dreams–procrastination shackling my mind from any creative efforts.

The result: absence and withdrawal. The “I’ll come to it later” curse. Procrastination convinces me that finite time is endless. Well, I’m shouting down that tricky demon. I lord my superiority over it by flirting with productivity. I have yet to make a serious commitment at present but I promise to do better by it in the future. Just give me some time to collect myself and find the key to procrastination’s shackles.

It’s strange the weird turns creativity takes when long oppressed. Personification was not on the agenda. Neither were mentions of fickle love affairs—a theme of June.

But to get back on topic: I want to do better. June has been…slow. Heavy and oppressive, much like a Midwestern summer. I’m slowly finding my footing again and taking stumbling steps out of my valley.

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