I have no clue how to create something until I sit down and try to create something.

When I'm not in the midst of writing, it can feel like I'll never write again. There's no inspiration to be found. The thought of stringing words together into something meaningful seems so foreign and impossible.

I forget how I wrote anything in the past. It just doesn't seem like something I do.

And then I sit down, and I quickly remember: creating something isn't very hard. Much of the time it doesn't feel like work at all. It's just the sitting down that's hard.

I liken it to escaping bed in the morning. While my head is still on that pillow and I'm snug under my many layers of blankets (my room is forever cold), the thought of being "awake" and walking around is ludicrous. Staying right where I am is the only thing I’m capable of. If I even tried to stand up, I might just tip over. I could never operate out in the world while feeling the way I do while I'm still prone. I feel I should stay right where I am until something in me shifts and I’m prepared to get up.

But, of course, I’m never "prepared" to get up.

So I force it. I get up. And ninety seconds later I'm a completely different person. Now the idea of staying in bed is getting strange. In ten minutes, it will seem very strange. I'm an "awake" person now. Walking around and doing things seems perfectly natural now. Doing “awake” things isn’t hard at all. I forget how impossible it once seemed.

All it took to achieve the impossible was braving that first ninety seconds.

So it is with art: it can feel impossible to make something when your creative mind isn't awake and engaged. But if you sit down in front of a computer or notebook or easel or piano for ninety seconds: everything changes. Creative Mode is activated. Ideas start to flow. Making something feels natural.

Once that shift occurs: staying put isn't very hard. It may take a little willpower to continue working on something—there will be distractions (a phone addiction doesn’t help); there will be a voice telling you to stop—but this pales in comparison to the energy it took to start.

This idea is, of course, true for everything. "Inertia is a property of matter." (Did I get the Bill Nye quote right?) Getting the ball rolling is always harder than keeping the ball rolling. It applies literally—with balls. It applies to working out, working on a project, meditating or trying not to work at all—whatever.

But I believe it’s especially true with art.

I believe there is an artist in everyone. I believe the natural state of the universe is to create, and that drive is in every person.

So when we create deliberately—telling the universe we're ready to do some artist shit—the universe gets behind us. It turns on a tap of ideas and helps us pull inspiration from seemingly nowhere.

Whatever seemed impossible—whatever seemed like a foreign task—whatever you’ve told yourself “isn’t something you do”—starts to feel natural.

It only takes ninety seconds.