Self-destructive Confessions

Have you ever told someone something about yourself, and then soon after it was no longer true? Like, I might say, “I haven’t been feeling very inspired musically.” And then the next day, I’m starting a new project? And I might have been uninspired for a long time leading up to that moment of sharing, but just noticing it was so, in my own head, or even wanting it to be different in my own head, wouldn’t change it. It’s like telling it to someone was why it could not be true anymore.

This phenomenon does not have to happen in terms of accountability. I don’t have to say “Please, check on me in a week and make sure I’ve written at least one new song.” In fact, for me, something like that would probably work to get me to write a new song, but in a relatively dull and wooden way. No, the life of grace comes in, for me, when I confess to my lack of inspiration in a non-directed way, without intending to change myself. I’ve accepted that I’m uninspired, and I casually mention it to other people, as though I understand myself, and then I receive my inspiration.

I mentioned the word “confession” and I wonder if this is related to the confession of sins.