Matter Over Mind

A micro essay on getting out of my head and into my shoes

I’m an imaginative person.

Maybe that goes without saying because I write fiction, but it also goes with saying because I’ve been in something of a creative rut over the past few weeks, and in attempting to unearth the reason behind this I came to the following conclusions:

First….

I spend entirely too much time in my head.

I’ve always been a dreamer. I fantasize, romanticize, hypothesize, and catastrophize like it’s my job. Some of these habits can be useful. Being able to conjure an emotionally riveting scene out of thin air, then allowing that scene to feed into another scene, and another, and another, is essentially how I went about writing all of my novels. But one thing these habits all have in common is they don’t require any action. They don’t force me to get up out of my chair, out my front door, and into the world.

Second….

Out in the world, I’m still in my head.

I walk between two and four miles every day. Sometimes in my neighborhood. Sometimes a short drive to someplace a little more … naturey. And anytime I’m walking, I’m thinking. A LOT. Sometimes it’s about my writing, but most of the time it’s about stupid stuff. Stuff that’s already happened. (The stuff I can’t change.) Stuff that could happen. (The stuff I can’t control.)

In essence, my head is full of bullshit. I’m barely seeing what’s in front of my own eyes or feeling what’s under my own two feet because I’m too busy running scenarios with meaningless outcomes.

Third….

I may have strained my resources.

For the past two years, I’ve been digging in my brain’s backyard. Mining a dormant decade’s worth of story coal from an untapped vein. And now, after months of blasting out content, all of a sudden … that vein’s feeling a little thin.

I’ve chosen a terrible analogy for my brain here, because it sounds like what I’ve done is irreversible. That I’m accepting defeat.

Photo courtesy of Canva. Self-deprecating humor courtesy of Meg Oolders.

But for the sake of me not having to choose another better analogy, let’s pretend that the vein can be restored. My well refilled. My muse resuscitated. And to make that happen, all I need to do is exercise my EGO. Acronym incoming…

E

Experience.

As is get the F away from my desk. Get out and do something.

G

Grounding.

As in dismiss destructive bullshit thinking and put my head where my feet are. In my shoes. On the ground. On earth.

O

Observation.

As in look, listen, feel, and LEARN something. Something new.

Fourth and final….

I haven’t lost my fire. I’m just low on fuel.

Nothing a little less dreaming and a little more doing can’t fix.

Photo by marko on Unsplash