Snow blind.
I don't personally know what snow blind means (I'm a native Floridian).
But I know what happens when I stare at a big white screen: the blank page. Something starts to burn. Not my eyes. My confidence.
I sit down to write. I think I can just start. And then…nothing comes. My mind goes as blank as the screen in front of me. I'm just a woman staring at nothing, wondering if I ever knew how to do this. How to create anything.
This is the moment most people quit. It's also the moment Steven Pressfield built an entire book around. He calls it Resistance — the invisible force that shows up right when we're about to create something true. Resistance tries to talk us out of it. He also believes we're not alone in the fight—there are forces working for us too.
“As Resistance works to keep us from becoming who we were born to be, equal and opposite powers are counter-poised against it. These are our allies and angels.” –Steven Pressfield, The War of Art
We know the ancient Greeks didn't think creativity came purely from inside a person, either. They believed nine sisters—daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne—each watched over a different art. The nine “Muses” include Erato for love poetry, Euterpe for music, Thalia for comedy. When a writer couldn't find the words, they didn't say "I have writer's block." They said, "My Muse has left me.”
I don't always feel my allies and angels, nor do I summon a Muse. But I've learned something that acts like one: practice.
I was only 7 when I learned to play the piano. Oh, boy, did I have to practice. Would you like to play? You don’t start on the concert stage. And, you cannot learn by only watching YouTube videos. Or by listening to Mozart piano music. Or by memorizing all the notes on piano sheet music. Or even by reading 5 books on how to play the piano. Practicing every day is what works. You’ll sound awful…until you don’t. By giving it a go every day, you’ll soon be creating lovely music for yourself and others to enjoy.
Facing a blank screen with not a drop of inspiration, I have a choice: snow blindness, quitting, or simply starting. I take a deep breath in, as I remember: Nothing manifests without practice—not skill, not confidence, not a book, not a life. I look up at the landscape painting on my office wall, the one that always seems to loosen something in me. And I start typing. Not brilliantly. Just practicing. And that “awakens the Muse” so that I begin to formulate what I want to say and I say it. The invisible helping hand is there, making me feel alive again.
Here’s one of my favorite quotes, where one such force is called “Providence.”
“Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now.” ― W.H. Murray, The Scottish Himalayan Expedition
Creativity seems bold, feels brave. But everyone goes snow blind sometimes—staring at that white space until it burns away your nerve. The trick isn't waiting for your sight to clear. It's moving anyway, before it does. How fortunate we are that Homer, Beethoven, Monet, and countless others practiced and produced what only they could produce. Such gifts we've been given. More importantly, how fortunate they were to be able to get out of their own way, sit down to work, and create.
Ever think, “I’m just not a very creative person”? If you’re alive, you can create. That’s why you’re here.
Be bold, sit down to work, and create. That’s what it is to live life.
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