I believe intellectually that ideas aren’t precious. And I’ve learned the hard way that works doggedly pursued at the detriment of my health and happiness are rarely better than those I pop off quickly from a place of ease after a period of rest. But emotion often trumps intellect, and I find it hard to trash ideas and snippets and notions and drafts, to let go of Things That Might Yet Be (TTMYB).
I spent four days in New York last week, and now I don’t want to work on anything I was working on before. Specific things, not categorical things. I still want to write, even another UX book, maybe. Still want to post to my blog, write songs, make illustrations. But I came back feeling like I wanted to empty every drafts folder, burn every notebook, trash every TTMYB. Not in a manic way, not in a judgmental way (this is all trash, get it outta here!), just…a needful sort of way?
Maybe that’s the sign of a good trip. Feeling…if not changed, at least reset. I’ve been turned off and on again, and am slowly booting back up. I was made in the 80s, after all, when RAM was limited and memory management was poor. Right now, I’m enjoying having capacity, to feel like there is RAM available, if I need it.