I left the city to stay in a loft above a garage in a tiny village and be on my own for a few days. Sometimes you have to leave the place you know with all of its familiar distractions and a schedule that often doesn't leave space to sit and be. That's the thing about creativity, it's not meant to be squeezed into the creases and cracks. I, for one, need to coax myself into it, I need to be idle and frustrated and bored and then gentle and kind with myself. It's a process, right?
Of course, I found other things to distract myself with, out in the countryside. I tired myself out staring at a screen. I had to hide my phone from myself. I took myself for walks and took in all the sights and smells of wildlife, including a field of pigs down the lane. I marvelled at the lightning and rain hammering on the roof of the loft space I stayed in.
“Once I began, writing a few lyrics and humming a melody or two, it no longer felt like a mountain. More like a river”
Eventually, I began. I didn't even know what beginning would look like but I knew it was important to begin. The first step is often the one that we put off the most, it seems too huge and important to begin. My inner critic was very loud, suggesting that I didn't have anything to offer and that I shouldn't trust myself to get anything done. Why are you here anyway? What are you expecting to happen?
Gradually, I found myself quietening my inner critic, turning up the volume of my self-trust and coaxing myself into creativity, into starting...something. And, once I began, writing a few lyrics and humming a melody or two, it no longer felt like a mountain. More like a river, one that I could dip into and follow the current of, one that would be there waiting for me when I was next ready to immerse myself.
The new season and 'new term' in September feels like a new beginning (perhaps more so than the new year in January) so now that I'm back in London, the challenge is to carve out space for creative time and sit in it, be there. To know that simply turning up is what matters. I might not have a deadline created by an employer or an invoice to file for each session but what I know is that it feeds me, I am committed to creativity. And that is enough. That is success, to me. To live a creative life, to play and make, experiment and learn along the way, to grow.
Reflective questions:
- What kind of environment feels safe and nourishing for your inner artist and how can you create that for yourself?
- What is success to you?
