Sometimes the smallest things stop me. I'm a writer first, so procrastinating comes easy.
My morning exercise is delayed because my headphones went missing. Then the dog came in the house with muddy paws. This morning's pages get put off because my pen is M.I.A.
Not a pen, mind you - THE pen. The one I scribbled with last night, when I woke up with a whole new Act Three resolution in my head. The one whose ink flowed so open and freely that my thoughts, too, whizzed miraculously across the page.
Never mind that I write mostly on, uhm, a keyboard.
Amid all this talk of action, and its motivation, which is essentially the point of this blog, it feels prudent to pause, to give some cred to the why nots.
Why won't she tell the man she loves what she's really thinking or feeling? Why doesn't he call?
The Bottom Line: Freud nailed it.
If Love brings out our Inner Hero, i.e, causes me to make the sacrifice, take the bullet for my valentine, or prompts him to make that call... the one that will stop her from getting on the plane... then perhaps its nemesis, Inertia, too can also be boiled down to one thing: Fear.
Beyond that, the devil, as they say, is in the details.
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