On Writing and the Block

I have gotten to a point where I sit down and note thoughts in bullet points. Random thoughts, no structure, no punctuation, no caring about flow. I dealt with the writing block by deciding these were notes and not real writing. That freed the flow.

Now the project is asking me to write-write. And I’m frozen again.

The perfectionism that used to make every sentence careful is the same thing that makes the blank page impossible. I know this. Knowing it doesn’t fully fix it.

The solution, I think, is the same one that worked before. Don’t call it writing. Call it thinking out loud. The garden doesn’t open with a declaration. It opens with something growing.

This is something growing.

This reflection sits at the intersection of Creativity and The Threshold.