A good conversation
Monday evenings is writing night for me. I’ve been doing it for several years straight. And still, here I am, half past eleven when I should been in bed long time ago, blogging together this week’s piece. For some reason, I often end up in “talking mode” with my wife on Mondays, which is easily the worst day of the week to sit down and talk. Because I know that it is my sleep hours that will fuel the conversation. On the other hand, you will be hard pressed to find anything more meaningful way to spend your time than deep conversations with your wife. And thus, it is probably a price worth paying.
A good conversation has similarities with being creative and the state of “flow”. It is something that is hard to do on command. When inspiration strikes, I know my best bet is to start playing my musical instrument immediately to get the most out of it. It is impossible to postpone it and enter the same state of flow. That’s probably where the saying “go with the flow” comes from. For me, playing music is an integral part of my life and I have created a routine around it. Honestly, it is more like a ritual by now. I have my sacred 15 minutes of practice every day and have set up a practice room where every single detail is prepared so that I can literally enter the room and start playing immediately. Every cable is connected and every knob on the mixer is turned to the position where it needs to be. I even put my phone out of reach so that I am in radio silence. No one, not even my wife, can reach me when I am practising those 15 minutes. And it works wonders. Some days I can enter flow for 15 minutes straight (those occasions are rare), but almost every single time I can at least touch the flow briefly. So that I learn to remember what it feels like. A good conversation is just like that. In the flow state, the progress of the conversation is so natural that it feels as if time has stopped.
But I am no Yoda master and cannot stay in flow perpetually. So, reality does check in once in a while, and it can usually be an external trigger. Like a crying child trying to sleep. Then I realise that it is possible that I have to go comfort my son for the rest of the night and then that writing session is a case of “goodbye mr Bond”. And I run off and start writing as fast as I can. I have a nagging feeling that today is just what I have in store, so I better wrap this blog up now, while I still can.
Anyways, the moral of the story is that a state of flow is extremely precious when it comes in the form of a good conversation, and that you are probably better off in the long run if you cherish it. And accept that you’ll be tired tomorrow.