It was something of a shocking revelation to me, an epiphany, a breakthrough — these daydreams...
I let my mind wander a lot. I think it's good and healthy. Lots of good ideas will come suddenly to me.
But there's a whole class of thinking that seems valuable and is pleasurable at first, but of which almost nothing useful comes out of: daydreams about future successes.
There's a word for that —
Fantasies.
I'll often fantasize about how enjoyable it's going to be when I have spare time and a good environment for writing, and I can sit down and write a particular piece I want to write, or whatever.
Meanwhile, I've got some very good mostly-finished pieces that aren't getting worked on. But in fantasy-land, you don't have to slog and grind and make the brutal sets of compromises and mind-wracking for word choices and eventually just... settling... when you can't get the wording perfect according to some divine standard.
Over and over again, I see my mind want to seduce me sit and idly enjoy the future's rewards, always cast in this bright glowing light, no hardship, no strife, no struggle.
No.
No.
Lies.
It is 9:59AM on a Wednesday in Taipei.
I'm a little tired, a little over-caffeinated, a light glistening of sweat from fitness an hour ago... things are not entirely perfect, but certainly good enough to do something useful.
My mind wants me to daydream of perfect setups? This setup is better than 99.99% of people all-time had. I've got my Mac Air plugged into a power outlet, light Italian music is playing in the background, the coffee is excellent, the staff is friendly, I'm in good health, and I've got things that are worth writing.
What else is there? What else could there be?
These fantasies are an assailant, a mugger, a robber of time, a liar, a wolf in sheep's clothing. Damn them. There's no living in the future. It's time to get to work.