The worst feeling in the world, part two

I've known for a while that it's important to keep something on you to write on at all times, like a small notebook or an app on your phone that you can use to jot anything at a moment's notice. It's to capture those thoughts and ideas that are only there for a minute, before they evaporate. But even knowing this, I still ocassionally get the notion that I can remember it and that I don't need to record it. Maybe because I think it's an especially huge thing, or maybe because I'll be at my computer in five minutes. And half the time it's true, I can still remember. But the other half, well that's the worst feeling in the world.

When I hit these walls, I can never resist trying to get it back. The thought that's definitely there somewhere, but it won't come out when you call for it. It decides on its own when it wants to show itself. It's like there's a part of your brain that has a life of its own. It's frantically searching for something that isn't there. It's a hopeless feeling, because once it's gone, it almost never comes back, at least at that moment.

The only thing to do? Let it go. Don't worry about it. Besides, how many great things are you already working on, and need to work on, thanks to the times where you did jot things down? Things in the moment always seem the most urgent but it's when you take a step back that you realize what's really important. Besides, it's not like the thought is lost forever. I've found that if you resign yourself to not being able to rerieve it, it will find its way back to you, whether you remember it was that thing you forgot or not.

And you know what's the crazy thing? It's an incredible relief to know this. That if you don't stress it, your brain can and will do wonders for you. That it's on your side. Just let it do it's thing. So suddenly, this worst feeling in the world, it always segues into one of the best feelings in the world, the one of letting go and knowing it's okay.