Part 2: The Interference

“Original thought” sounds noble.

But lately I’ve been wondering if it’s actually very practical — just a name for the kind of thought that isn’t rushed, isn’t copied, and isn’t trying to prove anything. A thought that arrives because I made space for it.

And if that’s true, then interference isn’t just noise — it’s the reason I miss it.

That’s the idea I’ve been sitting with:

Does interference block original thought?

It seems like it does. But I want to be honest about that.

Not all thinking feels noisy. Some of it helps. Some is necessary. But there’s another kind that’s reactive — like it wants to get somewhere before I’ve really seen what’s in front of me.

I noticed this last week while writing an email. It wasn’t a big thing — just a reply to someone asking for advice. I started typing what I usually say. A version of the same answer I’ve given before. Polite. Efficient. Helpful on the surface.

But something about it felt off. Too fast.

So I paused. Cleared the draft. Sat with the question again — what are they actually asking? What would I say if I didn’t need to sound like I know?

And in that small shift — slowing down, removing the need to be right — a different response came up. Not dramatic. Just clearer. More direct. Less rehearsed.

It wasn’t genius. But it was mine.

That’s a small example. But it made something obvious: the original thought didn’t need more effort — it needed less interference.

Maybe that’s how it often works.

The moment I stop filling the space with preloaded answers, something else has a chance to show up. Something more alive.

So again — does interference block original thought?

It feels that way.

And if it does, then the work isn’t to push harder.

It’s to listen more cleanly.

To notice what’s already too full.

And to leave just enough room for something real to arrive.