My favorite physicist (I hope you have one too), isn’t Einstein, Fermi, Heisenberg, or Hawking. He’s a bongo-drumming kook named Richard Feynman. Once while teaching at Cornell, Feynman found himself feeling palpable disinterest in what was supposed to be his passion. He was trapped in the throes of a feeling familar to many creatives: burnout.
And he s…