Resistance to work again. I once saw a TED Talk on introspecting where the main point was that introspecting should be done trying to examine the why, but the what. In essence, we can come up with ten thousand reasons why we feel like we feel, but useful thought is not directed at the why, but how do I change what I feel. Looking at the why only makes up unhappy.

My release date was set for tomorrow, but I won’t make it in time, at least not in the scope I was planning. But I will make a run anyways, and at the end of the day I will decide if I shall have a private release or a public one. Towards this end, I will need to put myself in a library instead of working from home, where resistance seldom finds me.

I’m not even sure why I don’t do this every day. I know I’m more productive from the library, but then at home I have my coffee, my bathroom, my desk, my large monitor. There I am getting into the why!

I was walking towards the gym feeling quite miserable, and I thought: even the most wildly successful release wouldn’t excite me. But, as usual, exercise put things into place, and as I was coming back I thought: It may be true, but failure wouldn’t sink me down either. I ought to take note to see if any of these outcomes truly matches the predictions that I’m making in this state.

I was about to write a closing sentence, and then I remembered that today is my birthday. It went by like Christmas and New Year’s: working, thinking nothing about it. I spoke with mom on the phone, and she told me a story which I hadn’t heard before: my father left for Canada while my mom remained in Mexico with my older brother. She called him to let him know that her period was a couple of days late. When it was confirmed that she was pregnant the family was reunited in Canada. While there, my grandmother counted the days and predicted I’d be born in the first days of February.

My mother interpreted this as doubt of fatherhood by her mother in-law, which would be verified by the date of birth. So she grew anxious as the days of February dragged on without me being born. Fortunately the effect of my father’s genes on my physical appearance is evident, more for the relief of my mom, because I don’t think my grandmother meant it this way.

So I had predicted my project would be born tomorrow, but in creative endeavors it’s the project itself whom chooses the date of birth. I’ll just nurture it until it’s ready.