Weekly Words 1

What's in a title change? Less obligation to an arbitrarily specific idea and more flexibility in this case. I get distracted by my weeks sometimes. Coming off a weekend and wrestling with the fact that I've got another 45 hours of work time before my next weekend, obsessing over the things I didn't get done. Life gets away from you when you pay too much attention. Needless to say I've decided my goal isn't a specific day of the week to spill my head, as long as it's done once a week. This could be the death knell of my whole effort: giving myself room to ignore my goals. I don't think so though, but this will be a good challenge for me anyway.

This week The Midnight Disease by Alice W Flaherty has been staring at my from my shelf for a while now. A book about inspiration as a replicable brain state that is written by a neurologist. She talks about how certain brain states caused by trauma (two examples she uses are postpartum depression and people that had injuries to their brains) compel the person toward creative express without every really knowing why they have this new need for it. Some people turned to painting pictures after a brain injury, after having spent a life with no interest in it previously. Her own experience with postpartum depression caused her to write prolifically. The book is very interesting in parts, but then other parts read like they were written by a neurologist.
It forced me to confront the idea that all the periods of my life that have been filled with my most prolific writing have been a result of whatever unique brain chemistry cocktail I had pumping through my noggin at the time. It is strange trying to wrap my head around the fact that my inspiration had been a compelling force out of my control, but it came from a place within me. Inspiration from my brain guts and not some exterior force. The idea helps put my efforts into perspective. At least in the sense of knowing that my chemically induced brain state is replicable. At least I don't remember any physical trauma to brain during any of these times; and I don't have any new scars on my head that I can't remember getting either.
I don't know that bringing about those specific brain states that caused all that activity in the "gotta write" center of my brain is necessary. I think moving forward is more a matter of training the conscious part of my brain how to better interpret the parts of itself that I try to avoid. It will be an effort in understanding the absences and silences in all my thoughts. When I find those places where there are things I can't say, won't say, or don't know how to say I'll look for the shape, broad strokes, and edges of it. The details come out in whatever I end up writing. Now if I can just figure out how the hell I'm supposed to do any of that I'll be set to have carpel tunnel inflaming hours of writing.