Free Mind

I’ve had a few bouts of insomnia lately. I do not enjoy these solo journeys to nowhere. I’m the sort who tries to tough it out in my bed, stubbornly hoping I’ll eke out a couple hours somehow. Sometimes I succeed, but often I end up flopping from side, to back, to side again, my mind caught in a loop of gripes and concerns. These cranky, worrisome thoughts are like silver fish waiting for a quiet moment to slither from the cracks of my subconscious. Once they’re out, it feels like my world is on fire, and who can rest when the house is burning?

This is why it’s often a better idea to just get up and read or do a crossword. The world of things you can touch and see is a good distraction. Sometimes, though, as I sit in my office trying to divert my mind toward restfulness, I’m beset with a strange sense of failure. None of my troubled thoughts are new to me. Some feel as old as I am. Plus, there’s nothing original about fear; it’s boring and predictable and useless but coiled nonetheless with desperate energy. Success has always meant freedom to me, and here I am hounded by the same old crap. I can distract myself all I want, but those worries will be back.

Then, of course, the morning comes and, as I do every day, I go to my desk to write. My workroom is nearly as quiet as my bedroom at midnight. I love this quiet, however. It’s the perfect environment for fear’s only true antidote: a new thought. A new thought needs an empty mind and a blank page. Yes, they will come while I’m showering or mowing the lawn or even in a great conversation, but there’s nothing like sitting down and purposefully inviting them to remember what I’ve forgotten when caught in that same stupid, frenetic whirlpool.

The real problem with our fears is that they’re always readily available. You know where they are in your mind. If you’re like me, you might even pick one up just because you’re a little bored. A new thought, meanwhile, requires something else of us, though they are just as available. They’re all around, I’d say, but I must look for them and leave room for them. How friendly is my world when I live in it creatively, when the night is a time for dreams and fears are reduced to harmless ash.

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