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You are not lazy—far from it. Would a lazy person take the time to reflect and write this post? No. Recognize first that what you’re feeling isn’t laziness but a common struggle: the loss of motivation. Let’s explore why this happens and how to move forward.

Motivation is a tricky thing. It feels boundless one moment and vanishes the next. That’s why people say, “Don’t rely on motivation; build habits.” But even habits require some motivation to start, and motivation itself is tied to your values, experiences, and mindset. It’s natural for it to fade over time, especially when tasks feel difficult or non-rewarding. This isn’t a flaw—it’s part of being human.

The good news is that motivation can be reignited, often by rethinking the task at hand. For example, ask yourself: Why did I want to draw in the first place? What excited you about this journey? Revisit those feelings. Seek out artwork or ideas that inspire you. Try to view your drawing practice through a fresh lens—find something novel and compelling about it. Our brains thrive on novelty; it’s what keeps us engaged and curious.

You might also be facing hidden mental barriers. If your brain associates drawing with frustration or failure, it might be exaggerating the difficulty of starting again. Combat this by setting a tiny goal that’s impossible to argue against. Draw one box. If that feels too much, draw one line. Once you’ve done that, reflect: Was it as hard as you imagined? Often, the first step is the hardest, but it can also be the most freeing.

Finally, consider this: drawing isn’t just about making art. It’s a form of exploration—a way to understand how your mind interprets the world. Practicing illustration sharpens your perception of space and form. It’s not just an artistic skill; it’s a cognitive exercise that changes how you see reality itself. Yes, it’s humbling—our vision often outpaces our ability—but that’s what makes the process so rewarding. Each flaw you notice is proof of your growth, showing you what to work on next.

How would you frame drawing practice in a way that excites you? For me, it’s not just practice—it’s a journey into perception, humility, and creativity. When I struggle, I remind myself of that. Maybe you can find a perspective that resonates with you, one that turns drawing into something you can’t wait to explore.

Co-written with ChatGPT. Original text: https://chatgpt.com/share/67598b9f-59f8-800a-a884-ec14341dbc98

Thank you for a well thought out response and apologies for the late reply. Despite being intelligent and well thought out, your reply didn't stir much interest. This juxtaposition between what I would expect to feel and what I actually felt was in itself quite interesting to me.

I have extensively read self-help resources and various frameworks to try and overcome what I perceived to be personal flaws. I had a strong desire to be able to produce meaningful work, but somehow I wasn't able to turn it into action. It was only after my deepest struggles of anhedonia and reaffirming that no external solution would work, that I started to make meaningful progress. This includes the self-help books and any frameworks of understand the self or otherwise. None of them helped me.

In retrospect I believe this might be because the frameworks people create, although they may feel universal, are actually based on numerous axioms that we call biases. Biases are not inherently bad, they are a highly effective way to utilize the mind. They are like shortcuts. Simplifications that enable further thought, but also inadvertently introduce problems when we aren't able to perceive them and consider them a part of reality itself rather than a construct of our mind.

One such axiom or bias is the assumption of free-will. I don't believe it, but when I look back at my experiences with self-help books it's quite clear that the authors do believe in it. This creates a problem because when the axioms are different, the resultant proverbial proof is meaningless. The books were meaningless to me because my understood and felt reality was simply too different from the people who wrote the books.

I have rejected external frameworks of understand the mind save for neuroscience, which is very different in that it doesn't seek to solve any problems people may have in their daily life. And in rejecting these frameworks I have actually grown a lot. I feel the frameworks create more limits of thought than they are helpful. For me that is. So that is likely why I didn't feel enthused about your response despite being intelligent and well thought out. Thank you for inciting this introspection.

Do you in contrast feel that the lesson from your personality development class has helped you? If so it would be interesting to hear in what ways. Don't feel obliged to respond though.