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You know how it is when you’re in the zone. It doesn’t matter how long you’re in it, you know when you are, and it doesn’t get any better than that. It feels great, whether you’re writing or talking to a friend or dreaming of a new idea. You’re not worried about the future or mulling over the past, you’re just interested in what’s coming next. There are no cymbal crashes or fireworks, however. As good as it is, it feels very normal and familiar. It’s not new. You’ve been here before. Why, it’s so normal, you can start believing this will be your reality forevermore.

Until, that is, you’re out of the zone. How you wandered out of it is almost always a mystery, though if you want to keep score it’s because you opened some door of a thought that a small part of you knew was best left closed. You opened it anyway, and then started doubting yourself, starting fretting over results, started wondering what the world will think of your creations, and now the zone is like some fairy tale or a memory of better and bygone days. This doesn’t feel good at all, though it’s familiar too. You’ve been here before, also; probably more often than you’d like. You’ve called this normal, called this reality, lousy though it is.

If you’re like me, that’s when you start dreaming of cymbal crashes and fireworks. You want to feel better, after all. You always want to feel better. From where you are, it seems like you’d need something really big, something totally new, something that would change your life at last and get you out of this mess once and for all. That such a thing has never happened before to you doesn’t matter. You believe it is possible because you know you can feel better than this, you just at this moment don’t know how.

Until, that is, you stop spinning your fantasies and relax a little and get an interesting idea and decide to follow it because you’ve got nothing else going on – and there you are again. You’re back in the zone, and wondering what’s coming next and you actually, literally couldn’t be happier. And it’s normal again. If you can, try to remember it’s not a big deal, that nothing needs to be solved, that nothing was actually wrong, that you just drifted away. That’s all that ever happens. You didn’t fall off a cliff. You got a little lost and then found your way back, and home is always home no matter how long you were away.

Check out Fearless Writing with Bill Kenower on YouTube or your favorite podcast app.

Everyone Has What It Takes: A Writer’s Guide to the End of Self-Doubt
You can find William at: williamkenower.com