Note takers, makers, apps, and shakers have been quite the rage in recent days. With a promised ease of writing, can we create simply by resting on the notes we’ve naturally squirreled away?

Or perhaps we can turn to AI. From a carefully crafted prompt or two, we can have the makings of a wonderful idea, ready for likes, bells, and subscription buttons hit with gusto .

Certainly, such tools bring great utility. They can smooth processes and present interesting unconsidered paths, all in interest of efficiency.

But, I’d like to make a case for not relying on any of these and instead in the practice of simply sitting by the blank page.

In the same way we can rest our fingers on a piano’s keys without a score, we instead seek to discover and craft from the materials already within.

Certainly practice is powerful as we study and build from the works of others. But there is a delightful fun to priming play, as the shapeless wells and tumbles into consciousness, only then to be finely formed for the senses of an audience.

What is there to fear of a blank page?

• Will nothing come out?
• Will what comes out be worth a damn?
• Will I be lost when I cannot come up with the ever-important third example?

There is an art to sitting with nothing. In meditation, the mind is allowed to be as we observe. At the piano, the keys may well sit in silence, a quiet lake…

• Will it be cold?
• Will it be invigorating?
• Will a slimy something swim by while I have no idea?

While the world swirls and twirls around, consumed as we are by its worries of work, family, and general doom, we can find a wonderful luxurious moment of rest, supported by a blank page and pen patiently waiting nearby.

Write or not.

There is something deeply grounding to a pause.

PS Of course, the silly hypocritical irony is that I looked at my notes before writing this.