I am out of ideas.
Ideas are my light. They are my motivational force. They are what makes me sit down and type and talk and shoot and draw and breathe.
But they have left me, alone, in the dark.
Ideas are like plants. And plants need to be nurtured. They need water and sun, but also healthy soil, and talking to them apparently helps, too.
Ideas are the same. You need to nurture them. But unlike with plants, there is no typical „idea-diet“. Because you can feed them anything, they are omnivores.
But I let mine starve. The pandemic surely didn‘t help. Because my ideas used to be fed discussions, and books, and movies, and walks, and meditations, and music, and food, and sunshine, and travels, and even other ideas. Yes, my ideas were cannibals because I steal other people‘s ideas and feed them to my own.
The pandemic stopped all this. And I hadn‘t realized. It put a halt on daily living because daily living wasn‘t – isn‘t – the same anymore. Nowadays, daily living means scrolling endlessly through social media, being scared for a disease you can‘t see, being jealous of a vaccine you can‘t get, being afraid to see people you love, falling asleep on the couch at 3 pm, because you can‘t differentiate between work and life anymore. I guess the pandemic is where ideas go to die.
But at least, now I know. I know why they died. And I have to bury them.
But again, ideas are like plants. So, I will bury my old ideas and hope something has survived that will plant new roots and create other seeds and cross-pollinate, and then suddenly, hopefully, break through the ground to display a fully formed idea.