"Full of Emptiness"

I am not writing these lines to promote a novel but to reboot. After fully immersing myself in the creation of "Robots with Soul: Trapped between Truth and Freedom," I suddenly found myself "full of emptiness." A paradox I experienced after feeling full of ideas, energy, and purpose, only to fall into a deep inner emptiness.

It's not a manageable hangover to deal with. It happens to many: the marathon runner who crosses the finish line after months of training or the journalist who exposes a significant corruption case after a risky investigation. Leila Guerriero painfully confesses it in a recent column in El País: "While I write a book, I renounce a notable portion of life, but when I finish it, life renounces me."

It is a disconcerting sensation that transcends willpower or discipline. It is pure chemistry: during the creative process, the brain releases a torrent of substances that, when finished, plummets, leaving us empty. In addition to this paradox of feeling "full of emptiness," other tensions occur during the creative process: paralysis in the face of infinite options, the blockage of perfectionism, or the wait for a sudden inspiration. Picasso faced the latter with great astuteness: "May inspiration find me at work."

Following that advice, I have forced myself to write, albeit without a clear direction, as an antidote to summon creativity. Because to write, even in a vacuum, is to fill oneself up again.