Are you bogged down? Maybe you are a creative who wonders where the creativity has gone. I know how you feel. COVID flipped the script six months ago. In truth, at some point in the past half year (maybe right now) everyone has felt frustrated, stymied, even lost. I think we need to talk.
Now, in the New Normal, life is like surfing the waves. We get thrown. We climb back up. We try again. Education at home, work on-line, relatives at a distance. Yesterday I opened up my old, twelve-month calendar and marveled: all those commitments, those plans, gone overnight. What a crazy year.
Perhaps you long to get creative but life feels too insane, or your too tired. You keep thinking you’ll start in a few minutes, then - boom - another hour has gone by. Dinner still needs planning, another ten texts have dropped, a family member needs help. Or you just sunk another hour on the internet.
I hear you. I’m there, too. Sustained creativity is difficult right now.
So what to do?
One coach I know would say, like a stern nurse: “Stop it. Just stop it now.”
I say, Breathe.
Relax those shoulders. Stare out the window. Breathe.
There. That felt good, yes? Let’s do it again.
Humans weren’t designed to run 24/7. We need friends, family, and time to drift.
So yes, all that is harder, now, but it is still possible. You can make the time, at least some of it, richer, one baby step at a time:
Look out the window
Your eyes are a muscle. Decades ago, when I first began working on computers, I suddenly found I could not see long distances. When I went to the doctor, that’s what he said. “The eyes are a muscle. You need to exercise them too.” You may need to be on the computer long hours now, but stop to look far away. Extra soul-points if you look at something you love - trees, a bird feeder, the ocean - but even looking across the street will help your eyes, and so the rest of your body and your mind.
Draw
Observe for ten minutes.
Pick up that pencil
Don’t worry about talent or time. Just take a few minutes and draw. Set the alarm for ten minutes. Focus on something a mid-distance, place your pencil on a sheet of paper. Start the timer. Now, looking at your subject, imagine your pencil is an ant, walking the edge of your object. Slowly draw its edges. (Don’t look!) This is contour drawing. The results will make you laugh and yet they will also, remarkably, capture something essential about the thing you are looking at. Most importantly, you will feel: feel the pencil and how your arm moves from your shoulder, connecting your mind to your fingers to the pencil to the object that you see.
If you can spare another ten minutes, try again. Compare the results. Remember the feeling. Breathe.
Get outside
Don’t mind the time or the weather. You don’t have to hike the mountains or go for a run. Just get away for a few minutes. Sit on your porch if that’s all that’s possible. Go around the block. If you can, head further. Manufacture an errand that doesn’t use the car. My husband walks to the grocery store. I mail individual letters at the post box half a mile away. Make an excuse if you need one, but get outside. Humans were made for motion. We belong, at least part time, in the world alive with plants and other creatures. Even if we have to wear a mask to be there right now.
Travel in your mind
Ok, yes, a walk is good, but sometimes it just can’t happen. The weather is foul. Kids need a grownup around. Or your body just can’t manage.
Your mind can still travel. Bring nature into your home and embrace the journey. For me, the sound of wind in the trees and bird song is like a trip outside. (I use the recordings at MyNoise.net) For others, it’s the ocean, or peaceful music. Find what works for you. Open the window if you can. Set a timer, turn off the lights, silence the phone, and just be. Listen. Breathe. Let go.
A favorite teacher told me this story: Once, one cold dark night, she went to visit her mom. When she got there, the windows were open, the lights were off. She feared the worst. When she walked in, though, her mom was fine. A fire burned in the fireplace, and her mom was wrapped in blankets, toasting bread and drinking tea. Wolf songs played on the stereo. “Sometimes we just have to get back to our roots,” mom explained.
I love that story.
Get back to your roots. If only for ten minutes, or an evening.
You’ll feel better when you come back. I guarantee.
