Ever have that feeling when your mind feels like a gaping void, with barely a thought to disturb the passing tumbleweeds?
Those times when you’re scrambling for something cool and interesting and creative, but nothing comes to mind.
Then a great idea finally comes to you, and you get excited. You start to write, only to experience the creeping sensation that this is all too easy; too familiar. You realise you’ve had this idea before. Maybe you’ve even written this same blog post.
You’ve come full circle.
Is that it? Is there nothing else to say?
What if ideas are finite and you’ve used up your stock?
Are you doomed to recycle thoughts over and over for eternity, in an echo chamber of your own making?
There’s a stutter, a false start; an idea that fails to be realised, to come out into the light. You can’t quite put it into words, into the right tone. It won’t be moulded.
Is this the beginning of the end, the slow decline into irrelevance and apathy? Or only the end of the beginning; a lull in ideas as overwhelm and burn out threaten to strike.
But then, the spark. Something living, breathing.
A moment worth sharing.
An idea. A promise of inspiration.