I've been trying to diagnose a phenomenon that I noticed in myself for a few months. I don't know what to call it, but I'll go with "Involuntary Chants." That might not be a fitting name, but I'll describe it using two instances.
Sometimes I wonder if my high standards for good writing make me give up from the jump because I don’t trust myself to commit to a piece until it’s good enough for my taste.
Try to look back at some point in your life where you were either really sad, worried, fearful, happy, excited, or elated. Now examine your life in the present.
Imagine what it’s like to not look forward to anything, to not expect anything, to not anticipate anything, to feel as if there’s no new problem to solve, to feel as if nothing is coming.
One of the things I quickly realized, contrary to popular belief, was that meditation wasn’t a practice to change your state of mind; It was merely about noticing it and being aware of what arises in consciousness.