Pure freedom is terrifying.
It can be a paint canvas, an empty notebook, or a screen of white.
In that moment, perfection. Any thing I do, action I take, addition I make will break the perfection. I will forever be chasing to recreate.
It’s easier to not start. Leave the page blank. Do not disturb.
But then, I do not own the blank canvas. It’s not mine and never will be.
So I force myself to take the first step…
and the blank canvas is gone.