I don’t want to write this blog post.
I don’t want to finish revising my manuscript right now.
I want to draw.
This, my friends, is called procrastination.
I used to dedicate this blog to it. Sometimes, I can make it work in my favor (ask me how!), but not today. Today, I’m writing about not wanting to write in order to underscore the fact that doing something else—even if it is a productive activity—does not make the anxiety go away.
We procrastinate in order to avoid facing our anxiety about (insert anxiety here). Instead, we color, or organize a closet, or shop on Amazon.
But the anxiety perches and grows—anxiety about the outcome morphs into anxiety about not doing what we should be doing. We have to escape it, so off we go to Trader Joe’s or to paint a wall mural.
Maybe, instead of doing the thing that we’re supposed to be doing, we’re ticking chores off of our list. But the anxiety has a list of its own.
It is yammering in our ear about its list and all we can do to run away is to rent a plane and skydive into the next county, where we pick green beans before climbing a small mountain. But look, the anxiety is climbing with us.
Should we research Aruba, volunteer to milk goats, or learn German?
Or should we buckle down and do that thing that we need to do (like writing this blog post)?
I say, do it!
(Look, my blog post is done.) 😌