I’ve been making a living as a writer since I was 22 years old. Even when I was mostly editing, I was writing. Even when I was running a section or department, I was writing. I knew first-hand that the idea of “inspiration” had almost nothing to do with it.
Sure, inspiration happened sometimes—a bolt of an idea out of the blue, a lede or framing or kicker that helped me get unstuck—but I also couldn’t wait for it. (Deadlines: they’re magic!) So earlier this month, when I decided that I’d post every day on LinkedIn for 40 days, I never considered that I’d fall into the inspiration trap.
That was dumb. Of course I fell into it.
Every time I went on there this week, I saw the same things. People arguing about that guy who did that thing. (We all know what I mean. Don’t bring it up in the comments.) People making grand pronouncements about a certain technology. I get it. It’s LinkedIn. But it also felt … barren. There was no springboard to propel from, nothing to respond to unless I wanted to perpetuate the same navel-gazing, counterproductive tropes.
And somehow, that turned into me feeling barren. If I’ve got nothing to say, I reasoned, why would I say it? So I didn’t post anything that day. I didn’t post anything the next day either.
None of this mattered to anyone else, obviously. But it mattered to me. I couldn’t figure out what had changed. Until I realized I was doing the thing I knew I should never do: waiting for something that might not even exist.
That’s the inspiration trap.
Anyone with a meditation practice is familiar with the idea that “emptying your mind” is a canard. Inevitably, a thought will float through your head. What’s key is to watch it float by without becoming attached to it—without following that first thought to the next thought to the next thought. You notice it, and you let it go.
Noticing the inspiration trap changed it from something I felt to something I saw. That didn’t mean that I suddenly had world-changing insights about RTO or AI or [choose your preferred acronym]. But once I noticed it, stepping out of it got a lot easier.
Why bother writing this out? Believe me, it’s not because I like talking about myself. It’s because chances are you’ve fallen into the same trap at some point. You might not think about it as a trap. You might not even realize you were waiting for something.
But maybe you are. Take a look. See what you notice.
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