I’m recovering from a creative collapse, for want of a better word.
I was humming along with my Creativity at my side, brimming with ideas, enjoying all sorts of creative pursuits, and then suddenly life got in the way.
Actually, it didn’t just get in the way, it enveloped me with such intensity that I lost my creative ability and all I wanted to do was sit on the couch and do absolutely nothing—not even read.
My Inner Critic went on an absolute rampage, cutting down not only my works in progress but also my published work.
It’s been a long road back. A road that I’ve been blogging about (so if you’re interested, read my previous posts) and that I’m still working my way through.
Gradually I’ve gotten back in contact with my Creativity and I’ve started writing, reading, and playing again.
For me it’s been a gradual thing, a very gradual thing, but for my Creativity…well she’s been waiting a long time to get back into the swing of things and her patience has seemed to evaporate. Suddenly she’s pinging ideas at me quicker than I can think, and I’m just overwhelmed.
This is my second creative recovery in the past few years, and I’ve learned something from the process: when a Creativity is starving and you start reviving them, they suddenly want to do ALL the things.
My Creativity wants to read this book, and that book, AND that book! She wants to write this story but also make notes about another story and then—boom—what about this idea?
It can be like going from zero to sixty without being prepared for it.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s wonderful to have her back. But I want you to know that if you get to the point where you used to do nothing creative and now all you want to do is shut yourself in your room and paint with your watercolours for several hours followed by a good hour or two with a favourite book, that’s normal. Your Creativity needs feeding.
In fact, let’s hand over to her for a moment.
So, yes! I’m hungry. Very hungry.
I said before that Creativities can be patient and when you’re having a life roll and everything’s all too much and you feel you can’t do the creative thing, then we curl up and wait. (Although I would say that your Creativity can be a very important partner in coping when life disintegrates around you, but that’s a subject for another post. You hear that, Jessica?)
Imagine you’ve been food-deprived for several days (you can make up the reason, I’m thinking you’ve been imprisoned in a cargo ship because you were investigating the underground caviar trade, but you insert your reason here) and then someone presents you with a piece of toast.
Isn’t that the most amazing thing you could imagine? TOAST! No butter, no jam, just toast. You devour it.
But then you realise man must live not on toast alone. What about eggs? And avocado? And then maybe a side of hash browns? And banana bread? (Can you tell we’re writing this in a café?) And smoked salmon! The more options you can think of, the hungrier you feel (remember, you’ve been starving for days, that’s a key point).
And you actually need all that food. Your body requires restoration! (I was going to write ‘renovation’ but one cannot renovate a body with smoked salmon and hash browns. That’s more an acai bowl, isn’t it? Whatever that is…) You are genuinely hungry and (one could say) needy.
Does that help you understand why when you’re recovering from a life roll, your Creativity goes from being very quiet to suddenly asking for things.
Can we watch this movie? Can we read this book? Can we add whipped cream to your medium-rare steak and eggs to see what happens? And throw in some smoked paprika? And maybe some fennel? What is fennel?
We Creativities need input. We need to feed on creative goodness from others and then we need to create. It’s our raison what’s-it. Something French. Our reason for being. And the more your Creativity recovers, the more whole you become. Because your Creativity is a part of you. They help keep you mentally and even physically whole (really, get creative thinking about exercise ideas and you might find exercise gets a whole lot more enjoyable, but again, subject for another time).
So pay attention to your Creativity because the more you are able to fill their needs, the happier and healthier you’ll be.
I will add a caveat. Your Creativity doesn’t completely understand what’s possible in any given day. They just know that you’re up, you’re awake, and you must therefore be available. Ever had the best idea of the week just as you’re waking up (and then you forget it, right? It’s not just me…)?
You may need to put limits on your Creativity. You obviously can’t play the mandolin all day if you’re supposed to be working. But you can bargain. You can promise to play for half an hour when you get home. You can plan when to give your Creativity time. Make the appointment and keep it (they get right stroppy if you don’t keep it).
Make sure you appropriately prioritise creative time. As Creativity said, it can have a major impact on your happiness and health. It’s worth making space for it—every week if possible, if not a little time daily. Don’t allow stress and emergencies to push it out. If you have to, change up the way you feed your Creativity (listening to an audiobook while exercising could be a compromise).
You need food. Your Creativity needs stimulation and expression. Don’t freak out if your Creativity suddenly seems in overdrive after a parched period. They’re coming back into their own. Do what you can to fill their needs and you’ll be rewarded with a healthy creative life.