Something very odd happened today. As I developed the main characters for my next film, which I’ll introduce in a future post, I felt a strong urge to stop, cease working.
You might guess it’s because I was having a difficult time or, perhaps, that I was too tired; however, the weird thing is that I was really enjoying the work. Things were unfolding smoothly and I was fully engaged. Yet, I felt an impulse to stop.
Well, I did stop – I stopped to think. Why in the world was part of me trying to abandon the work, shut off the flow? And which part of me was this?
My suspicion is that the urge was coming from a negative place, some kind of censor. Fear, perhaps? Insecurity? I’m not sure, but I did the only thing I could think of to counteract the ugly little beast: I continued working…