This morning, my friend who lives in Rome called to tell me he knew of an apartment that might be right for me. I agreed to come take a look at it this weekend, but at the same time, a pang of impossibility hit me right in the solar-plexus. It told me quite clearly, "Nice idea in theory, but it just can't be done."
This sort of thinking has always plagued me, I now realize. It sends conflicting messages to the universe, so to speak, as to exactly what it is that you want, so you stand no chance of bringing that idea into being. The initial creative thought--I'd like to move to Rome--is completely negated by the destructive thought--it's impossible.
This has always plagued me, but now this negativity has bubbled up to the surface. Unconscious thoughts have become conscious; their days of destroying what I would create are numbered (see Conscious Backgammon).