Creativity Practice

Last Winter I started practicing creativity. I made a challenge for myself to do something creative every day and post the result on Instagram. The only rule about the “something creative” was that it had to be satisfying. Not pretty, “good,” or even intentional, just satisfying.

I posted flower arrangements, outfits I dressed in, drawings, projects I did with my kids, and once, me singing a song.

I did the project to get back into my creativity, which I had forgotten to some extent when I became a mom. I also did it to “find my thing,” to see if maybe I wanted to be a writer or painter or do something professionally that I just hadn’t discovered yet.

Well, I didn’t “find my thing.” Instead I found out that I don’t have a “thing.*” Me wanting to have “my thing” was me looking for acceptance, community, and a way to monetize my creative output. Not that those are bad things, but piling so many of my hopes and desires on some unknown “thing” that I would do actually stifled my creativity instead of stoking it.

But getting back into my creativity? My creative center? Yes. I did that. I do that, it is a constant re-balancing: leaving center, occasionally going to an extreme, then returning home. But these days I feel more grounded and creatively centered than I have since before my kids were born.

The biggest surprise of my creativity practice, however, wasn’t the “not finding my thing” nor was it the return to creative center. It was an opening to deeper spiritual aspects of who I am.

I have come to believe that when we open the door to our natural creativity, we open the door to the deepest aspects of who we are. The door leads to some scary things. Traumas we haven’t fully processed, lost loves, times we made ourselves wrong, shame, fear. But among/within those demons of fear and shame live our quiet triumphs, our true loves, our unexplainable intuitions and, as a teacher of mine says, a deep “felt wisdom.”

I’ve found things within myself that I want to share, but I’ve gotten caught up in the “why am I sharing?” question. Do I want to share for recognition? Love and admiration? To boost my ego? To get published? To invite criticism so that I can have a good reason to stop sharing? (<– mind games, anyone?)

Maybe maybe maybe all of those things. But also, the work wants to be shared. It wants to fly into the minds and bodies of others for the “benefit of all beings,” for the sake of creating a space of harmony. It wants to inspire others to open up to their own creative, sacred nature.

That’s a lofty purpose indeed. I’ll practice holding it lightly and coming from a place of balance and love.

xo,

 

Michelle

 

 

 

 

*Tee hee! Yes, I get that there’s a penis joke in here. I get almost all of them. Thank you, fellow tenors of the Michigan Marching Band 1997-2001 for making my dirty double-entendre detection skills razor sharp. Go blue.

Embracing the Shitty First Draft

I didn’t come up with the idea of the Shitty First Draft, but boy do I find it helpful. (I think I might have read it in a book by Anne Lamott, here’s a great post about her writing advice.)

Here’s how it works:

Option1: I approach a creative project from the perspective of “This must be perfect!”

I’m immediately tense.

“I have to get it just right!! Ahhhhh!”

Often this paralyzing fear keeps me from even beginning a project, which is sad. I believe the world wants creative projects to be born.

Option 2: I approach a creative project from the perspective of “This will be a shitty first draft.”

I’m relaxed, ready for fun.

I know I can always go back and fix the project later, but I can settle into the comfortable low expectations of creating a SFD. *

Currently, pretty much all of my projects are SFDs. I’ve spent many previous years TERRIFIED of putting a comma in the wrong place. And I haven’t ever shown any of my drawings or other artwork in a public way because I’ve been worried it wasn’t “good enough,” or, more accurately, that it wasn’t “Real Art.”

At this point, I don’t care if my art is “Real” or not. (Ultimately, whether art is “real” or not is an existential question on the nature of our perceived reality anyway, right?) My art/writing is mine, I’ve made it, and I feel deeply that it wants to be shared.

This is all to say that if this blog feels piecemeal or unfinished, it is because it is. The whole thing is a Shitty First Draft.

 

 

*I TLA’d Shitty First Draft! SFD FTW!

 

A Body of Work

This post is me, setting an intention for this blog.

“Hello, blog!”

(hi michelle!) <—the blog has a little squeaky voice. Maybe because there aren’t any posts yet.

“I’m putting you together to hold my body of creative work. Or not hold it, but, like, post it on the internet and share it with anyone who wants to read it.”

(uhhh, yeah, that’s what blogs are for. duh.)

“No need to get feisty, please be patient with me.”

(ok, sorry. so you want me to hold your body?)

“No no no, I have human friends for that. I just want you to be a place where I can write about whatever I’m feeling about that week.”

(yeah, that’s fine with me. once again, I’m a blog, I don’t care much what you post on me.)

“Then why am I even talking to you?”

(good question.)

“People probably shouldn’t read this post, it’s really stupid.”

(eh, that’s ok. it’s still a post!)

“You’re right. Onward!”