by Peter Deegan

Created on: July 28, 2009

I love to write. Ideas for things to write about come to me all the time. When I am mowing the lawn, driving, on the treadmill, getting ready to fall asleep and almost every time my body is otherwise occupied with doing something else, my best ideas are there for the taking. To capture the moment, I do what I am supposed to do. I write it down or even call my voice mail to "dictate" my idea so it doesn't slip through the sieve my mind becomes when I actually sit down to purposefully write.

It seems that when I do sit down to write, more often than not I can be goal oriented, rally and just get the job done. But, there are those times that I realize just how easily distracted I can be.

Pencils need to be sharpened. What irrational need do I have to sharpen pencils when I am sitting at my desk in front of a computer? I see those Ticonderoga #2's and I need to sharpen them "just in case."

Wow, is that a cardinal? I never pay attention to the birds, but looking out my window, I cannot resist staring a bird. Especially true for a skittish red one. Why am I spying on birds when I should be writing?

Snack time! Perhaps some weird association disorder that I picked up in college writing papers at midnight, ordering pizza. But, getting ready to write or use my creative abilities works just seems to work better with chips and salsa. If it does, then why am I still not writing?

Music! I need music! Perhaps I can just stream some music to get me going? I click into iTunes. Lo and behold, a new version is available. I better update my software. I certainly am not going to risk not having the most up-to-date version for my precious downloads. A reboot? Sure, I have the time. Where is that music?

Once I get the music going I realize how distracting it really is. I kick myself because I go through these same steps every time I want to be creative. The funny part about it is that I usually don't blame myself. Being the one who sees himself as purposeful, I reason that it must be others.

Who uses my pencils when I'm not around? Who feeds these birds anyway and why are they here? Why does this computer constant need updating? (I never complain about snacking!)

In the end, my ritual of excuses for not writing exhausted, I do get down to business. Perhaps after a cookie and a cup of tea...

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