In college and the few nascent years after that, my creativity peaked at night. At that time, I engaged in deep, emotional conversations with people (and myself) during those times. That’s when I was the most inspired to create. Brilliant ideas came naturally (although I wouldn’t always execute them) always then. My best writing dumped on the page after the day had finished. I needed to write all of that down.

Then I started working. In an office. I am not sure what happened, but my creativity and/or my willingness to let creativity blossom only happens in the morning. The day’s events bogs me too much now at night. The day’s activities take away any of my creative clarity and energy I need.

So what happened? What happened to the me that would need a day’s worth of turmoil, disappointments, activities…vs. a good night’s sleep to whisk all of that away? Maybe it’s because now that I have landed squarely in my thirties, that the brain is different. Or that I have gotten over the wounds and pain…and those healed areas…well they don’t inspire anymore. Or that clarity comes best with rest.

I wonder. But my best work in the last year have come in the morning. And also when I am stuck somewhere without purpose or intention.