You’d think being inside all day and away from a rigid work environment would make productivity shoot through the roof, but that’s not how this works; not how any of this works.
I call it having a “quarantine-block”—this blockage that is somehow an invisible hindrance to our productivity and creative energies, not seen but surely felt. Being inside every day, often for days at a time, living life with a pandemic as the backdrop—all of these things contribute to the hold-up many of us are feeling. It might be from feelings of shock or being paralyzed by reality. The severity of it all is very real, and it’s enough to throw anyone off their game, whether for a couple of days or a couple of weeks. Though our circumstances are unique, we are all experiencing this in some capacity.
As a writer, I’m used to the idea in the form of writer’s block. Even with all of my efforts, it feels like someone or something is stopping me from gaining access to my own creativity. It’s like someone or something has locked the door to the room I’m trying so desperately to gain access to. This time, this person or thing happens to be this global pandemic.
Like writer's block, this pandemic does not have a time limit. It is not predictable. It is not convenient. It is a hindrance, a threat, a thief. And even still, it does not get the final say.
There’s a thing I do when writer's block becomes severe and drawn out. It’s what I did today when I wrote this blog post. When things aren’t coming together, and I can’t write anything, I just write something. I write my thoughts as they come to me, raw and unorganized and without structure. I type random keys on the keyboard until somehow, someway, my words find a way of coming together. Until I can write something, I do something. This is how I’m trying to approach the crisis at hand: look for peace in the midst of chaos, make my home my safe space rather than my prison, find joy even on the tougher days. These things don’t eliminate my larger problems at hand, but they do ensure that I don’t suffer in the midst of my struggle; they reduce the blockage.
I know there are gonna be more roadblocks ahead. Writer's block wasn’t my only, and quarantine won’t be my last. The difference is now, I realize how important it is to work in spite of the things that stand in my way; it’s the only way I’ll get where I’m going, especially now. Learning to live beyond this block won’t happen overnight, and won’t be mastered in one sitting. But like anything else, with practice, and by doing something, it’s doable.
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