Hurling over a waterfall into a pool of hungry crocodiles

When I’m really cooking with a song, usually by the time I get to the bridge, I stop. I walk away.

Because I want to be able to pick up right where I left off when I start again. This act of strategic friction takes deep trust.

In myself, in the process, in the universe, everything. It’s based on the fact that in most cases, I can’t override my fatigue or lack of motivation by sheer force. So I almost have to thread back the dopamine from the future, so I’m already starting to experience the win before the song is finished. I remember what it felt like last time to compose this new song, and I get excited about feeling that feeling again today.

Now, this approach won’t work for everybody, because it’s an internally generated award system. I find it useful because I don’t drink caffeine, and external accountability is motivating for me. So I play these little games with myself. And they work virtually every time.

Why more creative professionals don’t do this is baffling to me. There are so many wonderful ideas for beautiful art that vaporize like farts in the wind, solely because people don’t understand friction.

Why introduce resistance when speed is of the essence? Why make it hard for yourself to take what’s inside your head and get it on paper in tangible form?

Document everything. There will be time for judgment later. For now, keep your files organized so you can start and finish in a frictionless environment.

It’s funny, when generative artificial intelligence first came on the market, my first thought was, well, there goes every excuse for writer’s block. Gone.

Because now there’s no friction. No barriers to entry. If this technology exists in the world, and you still can’t write a couple of ideas down, then there is no hope for you. If you don’t know how to inspire yourself with the aid of the most remarkable machine learning intelligence known to mankind, you might need to speak with a therapist.

I’m sorry, but today is the worst that technology is ever going to be. Today is the slowest society will ever move. And there is only going to be less friction in the world with each passing year.

Each of us must learn to thrive in its absence, and also how to introduce it for our own benefit. Remember, friction is a current in the river of life. It can propel us forward with its steady flow, or hinder our progress with its forceful rapids.

In the right context, it can guide us smoothly downstream, helping us navigate life’s challenges. But if ignored, friction, or the lack thereof, can capsize our boat, drag us off course, and send us hurling over a waterfall into a pool of hungry crocodiles.

One moment we’re living an existence with no resistance, the next we’re slipping and sliding straight into the jaws of death.