How I wrote with a writer’s block

Photo by Tomas Tuma on Unsplash

I am sitting here, happy with my ‘doubts’ checklist for my contract. I lean strongly towards signing it despite the open questions. If I could just hear back from my tax advisor, I’ll be happy.

Hmm. Now I feel a strong sense of uselessness. I feel there are important things to be done, that my time is valuable and something needs my attention — what could that be?

I could write.

I could write about something useful.

What is useful?

I don’t know. I am stuck. I want to train the muscle of writing without a definite idea. I look around the room. I see flowers. An empty box. I see the jarring ceiling light that I normally keep OFF, but accidentally left ON this time and now I am too cozy and warm to walk to the switch to turn it back off. I am now comfortably stuck, and might as well write about that.

Okay, so we have started.

The words should flow now, the wheels have been set in motion, haven’t they? But apart from random thoughts, I can’t think of anything meaningful to write about. Ideally, I would have talked about my achievements of the day — like signing a new freelance contract, selling products, making money — but the day has been relatively eventless.

I wonder if that’s why I feel stuck — Not knowing how to act, because of lack of achievements?

Buddhism talks about the concept of Acting vs Waiting. It says that most of our life is about deliberately waiting for the moment of action arrives. And the right moment is recognised when one is completely mindful and present. Buddha prescribed mindfulness in everything, including the mundane tasks of cleaning, sewing and walking.

The right moment is missed if one is distracted by their thoughts or immersed in pleasure. The mind constantly wants to do both, or either. This is where the practise of meditation comes in. We must train our mind to do neither, and nothing else. When we train our mind to be comfortable with the nothingness of the present, we learn how to wait. I have often gotten more constructive ideas after a painful hour of being stuck, than an entire day of binge watching Netflix.

So far so good!

I look over at Steph as she pounds away at her keyboard with a disgusting sense of purpose. So jealous! I look for my moment, and ask her, “How do you feel when you’re stuck?”. She’s too nice to show she’s annoyed. She thinks for a minute and answers, “Bored, uncomfortable and uninspired”.

But I feel the same way! Before starting this article, I played 3 games of chess trying to wriggle my way out of stuck-land. I won 2, lost the 3rd one in a way that made me want to switch to a different hobby — all because I was horrifyingly stuck.

But if I act on stuck-ness because it’s ‘uncomfortable’ or ‘boring’, I would contradict my own 2 principles:

1. Never act on negative feelings.
2. Wait for the right moment to act.

A paradox!

So I can’t act on my fears of being stuck. I guess the only other option is to surrender. The only way out is by getting comfortable with the stuck-ness. Staring at the boredom, discomfort and lack of inspiration with a smile. And then waiting fearlessly for the right actions, over random fearful ones.

What do you think?