The Illusion of Progress

This past Sunday was an interesting day for me. It started off with me visiting my parents briefly, I vented some of my frustrations and discussed upcoming events with them, and then headed into town to pick up groceries. I returned to the apartment, started my laundry, and sat down to work on my research paper for my Interpersonal Communication class. It promptly started snowing, and heavily, outside, and I knew that I was confined to the apartment for the remainder of the day.

I finished the paper within about an hour, spent some time talking with my roommate about our summer plans, graduation, and other topics, and then sat in front of my computer to work on Round 10.

And I sat there, and stared at it, yet couldn't bring myself to type anything out. Nothing was coming to me. Here I was, the whole evening ahead of me, a mountain of time that could allow me to make tons of progress on Round 10, and all I could do was stare at the document blankly.

And then Monday came around, and between classes, in the matter of an hour and a half, I started and finished three different sections in the rulebook, fingers hammering away faster than they had in a while. Yet I did this in the college cafeteria, rather than my own kitchen as was the case on Sunday.

I realized that the change of environment was what did it. It offered a change of pace, a change of scenery, which dramatically affected my writing. I realized that, as I have mentioned in previous blog posts, that I am fearful of my own stagnation in life, and the simple change of scenery was enough to kickstart my writing juices, oil the gears in my creative mind, and get more work done than I had seen in a long time. It was an illusion of actual progress, with me fooling my creative brain with the idea that I was in a different place, at a different time in my life.

That simple illusion, that simple head fake, was enough for me to temporarily forget about the stresses of the direction and pace of my life and to focus on the task at hand - my writing.

Here's hoping I can continue to make it work.