Mice and Lizards

I haven’t written a post in almost two weeks.

Last week was my birthday. My 30th birthday. Is that a big one? I think they’re all big ones, but maybe that’s not a broadly held opinion.

Anyway, I was in France spectating the Euro Cup soccer tournament with my love, my brother, and his wife as well as his sister and his husband.

Our days were full of activity, so I reasoned that there wasn’t enough time to pen a thought into a post each morning.

This was a bad idea.

Bad because now I feel guilty. Guilty that I didn’t exercise my brain that I didn’t create, that I didn’t keep my streak alive.

That probably sounds stupid. Hear me out.

The downfall of creativity begins when we begin — even for a day — to justify that status quo is sufficient. When we stop connecting the unconnected dots, they stop appearing altogether.

I suppose it’s just the “if you give a mouse of cookie” metaphor applied to personal productivity.

I fed the mouse cookies, milk and plenty of beer last week. And now I’m struggling to write what you (maybe nobody) are reading. When I have three straight months of daily posting inside my finger tips — and my mind — the words flow like water. I write with confidence.

And, perhaps most importantly, I write without the voice in the back of my head. The voice the criticizes, that negs, that questions, that doubts.

When the lizard brain is quiet, I can write as if no one is reading.

That’s when the best stuff comes out.

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