Most days it can be hard to find any motivation at all.
I slug through them, looking for something to grasp hold of, something that will invigorate me with the energy to actually do something – getting out of the house, writing, anything at all…
Something… the word, the ideal, is always something.
Yet, the actuality seems to be nothing.
I – and I suppose everyone – wants to awake, filled to the brim with energy, inspiration, motivation, anything but the lazy languish that currently resides within me. Anything but that. To start the day ready for everything that it might thow our way. To create and animate our endless ideas and stories. To be useful, good at doing whatever we do. Needed.
How do I arrive at this destination, that fated station?
On the illusive days where motivation shows its face, the words, the ideas flow from me in an endless stream of beauty. These are the days I live for. Only, I wished each day was like this – fruitful and happy. Because creation is the spark to my happiness. Words, they run through my veins like blood. Without them… I cannot comprehend myself, I would be an empty shell, structureless. It is something I need to feel, my only orifice off expression.
I long to never feel de-motivated. I long to sit at my desk and be able to write with the click of a finger, free of procrastination, free of idleness.
But that’s not how the world works. We push through the bad to arrive at the good. We cannot always sit at the top. So, grasp hold of your motivation, keeping it close for as long as possible, because it is one of the dearest things in the world.