What marshmallows really mean.

It doesn't take much for me to be distracted, but lately it seems to happen more often. I suspect it's a byproduct of overstimulation - the mind tends to flit from one thing to another rather quickly without really engaging in anything meaningful.

I read something online recently where the author mentioned having reread the Stanford Marshmallow Study and ran down the eventual histories of the kids who managed to hold off eating that tempting first marshmallow. They were, by and large, more successful, more attentive, worked harder and had fewer issues as adults.

I'm pretty sure the four-year-old me would have eaten that marshmallow straightaway and then went looking for the pantry where all the other marshmallows were kept. Screw two of them if I wait when I have two dozen as soon as I outfox mom?

Of course, this historical context for delayed gratification got me thinking about my writing, or lack thereof. Could I be more diligent and disciplined about writing about non-work anything if I simply forced myself to do it, only to reap the reward of a proverbial marshmallow? Would that be enough to simply get me in the habit of writing enough? What is enough? Enough to help me enjoy it again, find something to say, feel expressive and creative again?

Only time will tell. But right now, that first marshmallow sure looks good.