Breaking Through Creative Inertia

“A body in motion tends to stay in motion. A body at rest, tends to stay at rest.” –Isaac Newton

I’d like to think that I’m pretty disciplined—not crazy disciplined, mind you, but I can get my work done when I need to. And once I get started, I move along quite nicely. It’s the “getting started” part that has a tendency to kick me in the gut.

How many times has this happened to you? You’re all ready to begin a project. You’ve thought about it, you’ve planned, you’re even excited about it. And then—BLAM! The wall goes up.

Overcoming inertia is one of the biggest challenges a person can face when starting something new. But the creatively inclined seems especially afflicted. Artists (regardless of their discipline) can have a heck of a time getting their creative engines going—at least enough to get over that first speed bump in the road.

Some mornings I sit down to write and it’s kind of like I’m in a race car, revving my engine at the starting line—just waiting for the signal. I pick up my pen, look down at the blank sheet of paper—and nothing. The gun goes off and my engine stalls.

Now in all fairness to me and those other “slow starters” of the world, what we try to do on a daily basis isn’t easy. Whether you’re a writer, a painter, a sculptor, a musician or whatever, we are all expected to create something out of nothing. How crazy is that?

So, I think we shouldn’t be too hard on ourselves.

No wonder getting over that first bump can sometimes feel like climbing a mountain.  Whoever said “starting is the hardest part” nailed it.
Any successful artist has, at some point, learned how to deal with inertia or she would have never seen success.

This doesn’t apply only to art —but to all aspects of life, as well. Those who fail to overcome inertia remain forever behind that proverbial starting line, without ever crossing it.

So, what is this thing that keeps showing us the hand?

At first brush, we might see the inability to get started as laziness, pure and simple. But a creative mind is anything but lazy. Creative energy is active, it’s lively. Even the act of thinking in a creative way denotes a certain level of drive.

So if is not laziness, what is it? What could possibly be strong enough to stop a flow of energy as potent as creativity?

Fear.

From a writer’s perspective, there’s nothing more daunting than a blank piece of paper, or an empty Word document screen.

And I can only imagine that instant just before a musician strikes the first note of a new composition. The empty silence must be deafening!

This is what artists affectingly call “drawing a blank.” It can send a crippling bolt of fear through any artist. So powerful, it can knockout that first creative spark before it can ignite in the artist’s imagination.

“Image courtesy of sippakorn/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net”.

If creative inertia is mostly fear, how can we beat it?
It’s not like we can just snap our figures and make it disappear. After all, this natural law has been around since the Big Bang–billions of years before Isaac Newton shared his now famous observation: “A body in motion tends to stay in motion. A body at rest, tends to stay at rest.”

If you notice, Newton said that a body at rest, tends to stay at rest. Not that it is locked into a perpetual state of inactivity. It just needs a nudge.

So how do we give our creativity a nudge?

1) Give yourself permission to suck.
The fear of looking bad in the eyes of others can be crippling.
What if I’m no good? What if everybody hates my work? These and similar questions have nothing to do with the act of creation. They have no business anywhere near an artist. To access creative energy, an artist must remain totally and completely in the present moment. Such detrimental thinking moves the artist’s mind into a future of “what if’s” and “maybe’s”. There’s no way we can create something if we are not in the present moment with it–if our minds are somewhere else worrying about some imagined result.

2) Give yourself permission to fail.
The Masters, like Shakespeare, Da Vinci, and Mozart didn’t start out as artistic geniuses, quite the opposite, in fact. They all had their failures and misfortunes —their confrontations with creative inertia. But they overcame them, by giving themselves the permission to fail—to try new things, to experiment. And with each failure, they learned something new, which eventually gave them enough energy to break through the wall, into success.

3) Feel the fear and do it anyway.
I know it sounds cliché, but it’s far from empty advice. Fear is just another form of energy–mostly made up of limited thinking and all the stories we tell ourselves about what we believe we can do or can’t do.
The interesting thing about fear is that it can give us an amazing burst of adrenaline. Why not use that energy to blast through the wall? Start throwing everything you have at it. Ideas, concepts, words, pictures, sounds. Don’t concern yourself whether or not it makes sense, just keep brainstorming. This will do two things: 1) It promotes forward movement. 2) It jump starts the creative process as one idea leads to another and another… Before you realize it, you’re moving again.

4) Turn inertia against itself.
The most profound nudge we can give creative inertia lies within inertia itself—within those blank pages and vacant notes we fear so much.
There is power in these empty spaces—tap into it. “God’s one and only true voice is silence”. Creative energy and inspiration reside in the spaces in between, the before and the after, and in those perfect gaps of nothing. Instead of “drawing a blank”, draw from the blank.

Take a breath and look into the white screen. Settle into the silence. Not with anxiety and fear but with a calm knowing that this is where our creative power truly lives. The whispers of inspiration can only be heard when we are quiet. Listen for them, look for them.

The next time you are stuck remember these four tips to give your creativity a nudge.

Give yourself permission to suck.
Give yourself permission to fail.
Feel the fear and do it anyway.
Turn inertia against itself.

Creative inertia may seem like a daunting wall, but with the right nudge it will come crumbling down every time. So what are you waiting for? Get ready, get set, go!

 Thanks for visiting. A note of appreciation to all of my regular and new readers. Your interest in my work is deeply appreciated. Blogging can be solitary work. I welcome your comments and questions. Become part of the discussion.

Please use the Facebook comments box at the bottom of each post. If that doesn’t work for you drop me a line through email or the green “Contact Us” tag to the right.I also invite you to sign up for my Email list by using the sign up box on the right of the post and get a free copy of my book “My Happy Workplace”.

Attached to the Muse

“O! for a muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention.”–William Shakespeare

For an artist there is no greater feeling than when inspiration strikes. It’s almost intoxicating.

Whenever I get a good idea—I mean a “really good” idea, it’s like someone or something has given me an amazing gift. The hair stands up on the back of my neck, my heart quickens and a pleasant tingling settles in the pit of my stomach.

In that moment, all I can think of is this creative seed, this spark of inspiration that has been dropped into my lap. It’s a treasure like no other. And like any treasure my first reaction is to grab it and hold on tight—to protect it.

At this moment I usually scramble to write down the idea before I forget it. And this isn’t as easy as it might sound. After all, a blast of inspiration hits an artist with an enormous amount of raw creative energy. It is almost a visceral experience. In a way it is more felt than thought.

When the muse whispers her secrets, the artist gets the full brunt of its energy in all its imagined completeness—perfect and whole. But it is only a seed. And within that seed resides the potential of the entire thing—whether that be a novel, a painting or a song.

In order to share it, to create, the artist must do the near impossible—which is totranslate this perfectly complete “feeling” by using comparatively clumsy tools (words, sounds and pictures) to recreate the elegance of inspired thought—its emotional impact. It’s kind of like smashing a rock against a piece of marble to draw out the sculpture inside. But this, at its core, is the daunting task of every artist.

And it’s during this translation process that an artist is most vulnerable to creative blocks—especially if she is unaware of this energy’s true nature, which is its need to evolve and grow past the point of inspiration.

Inspiration is like any seed or spark. Packed within is a huge amount of creative, potential energy. All this potentiality lies in wait until it gets the opportunity to mature. If the seed or the spark is unable to do so, it will die and whither. No seed can sustain itself indefinitely without growing. A spark will eventually burn out if it’s not given the room to expand.

This is what happens when the artist’s ignorance of the process compels him to stay too true to his muse; when he becomes too attached to the original idea. So instead of allowing the idea to grow and expand in exciting ways, he ends up limiting it by his misguided attempt to preserve it.

I can’t count how many times I’ve blocked myself by doggedly sticking to what I believed was the original idea, instead of letting it go where it wanted to. As I write, I’ll often notice that the story seems to take on a life of its own. It goes in unexpected directions. Perhaps it even starts to become something else.

In that moment I jump to my muse’s defense and curtail the creative chaos, bringing the story back to the original concept. Invariably, this approach (no matter how well-intentioned) kills the work.

I then wonder what went wrong. How could such a great idea die?

It is because I killed it by not letting it grow. I bought into the illusion—my limited interpretation of what I thought the idea should be. An interpretation based upon the few words I managed to string together in the mad rush to preserve the original idea—during my initial blast of inspiration.

But, in doing so I only managed to capture the tiniest bit of the whole picture. In my arrogance, I believed the idea to already be complete and perfect. So I didn’t let it grow any further. I loved the idea so much and became so attached to it that I tried to keep it just the way it started out. And because it couldn’t grow—it died.

You might say I killed it with kindness.

Inspiration is not a vision of some artistic end result. Even if it is—we are seriously handicapped when it comes to translating this energy through things like words, pictures and sounds. As beautiful as these things can be, they are simply not up to the monumental task of translating the raw energy of pure inspiration. But that doesn’t stop us from trying—as the multitude of books, paintings and songs can attest. Nor should it.   

So, it may be far more useful to treat inspiration as the first step in a larger creative process, remembering not to get too attached to any one idea.

In this way we open up to the hidden potential of all the ideas as they occur to us, allowing them to expand into far greater versions of themselves. Go with the flow. Allow your work to breathe and witness the creation process as it unfolds. 

Don’t be an artistic control freak. Control is boring. Do you really want to control the roller coaster or would you rather throw up your arms and scream in delight?

The best artists allow their muses to run wild—the Masters somehow manage to hang on for the ride.

A few things to remember:

1)    Inspiration is the starting point, not a vision of the end goal.

2)    Let ideas evolve and grow naturally.

3)  Understand that the best art still only captures a tiny part of inspired thought using relatively clumsy tools (words, sounds and pictures) to recreate the indescribable elegance of inspired thought. So don’t get messed up (blocked) by trying to recreate it completely—it won’t happen.  

4)    As powerful as inspiration is, it can be choked by too tight a collar.

5)    Don’t be afraid to abandon the original idea if it wants to go in new and more exciting direction.

6)    Control is boring.

Thanks for visiting. A note of appreciation to all of my regular and new readers. Your interest in my work is deeply appreciated. Blogging can be solitary work. I welcome your comments and questions. Become part of the discussion.

Please use the Facebook comments box at the bottom of each post. If that doesn’t work for you drop me a line through email or the green “Contact Us” tag to the right.

I also invite you to sign up for my Email list by using the sign up box on the right of the post and get a free copy of my book “My Happy Workplace”.

Hope to hear from you soon….Troy

Seconds of Silence (Part Two)

It’s amazing what a few seconds of silence can do—the power it holds. And you should congratulate yourself for taking those few seconds. It may seem like a small thing, but we rarely give ourselves the permission to appreciate and embrace silence in any kind of deliberate or meaningful way. We have forgotten how silence can nourish, heal and connect us. We have been so conditioned by our modern, noisy society that we actually feel uncomfortable when things are “too quiet”. How messed is that?

The power of silence is profound. Sometimes, for me, silence is so tangible that it is as if I can dip my hands into it like a healing balm. Silence is one of the greatest gifts I give myself.

Silence is also a bridge to creative source—a link to inspiration. It is where the power resides to make art, solve problems and to thrive in this creative world of ours. Take music for example. We typically associate it with sound—its rhythm and notes, instruments and voice. It is a purely auditory art form. And yet, it is not the sound that makes music beautiful—that gives it the power to move the human heart. No, it is the empty spaces between the notes that give music life. Without silence, music could only exist as one long droning note. It would be nothing but noise.

No wonder it’s been said that “God’s one and only true voice is silence”.

As I write this, it’s a little after 4:30 in the morning. The world around me is still. There are no cars or trucks rumbling outside. No lawnmowers or weed-whackers droning. No T.Vs, computers or cell phones humming. Even the birds are sound asleep in their nests. It is times like this that give me a deep appreciation for silence and the creative energy that accompanies it. I find silence in ample supply during this time of the day: (right around 4:30am to 6:00am). Some people call this the “Holy Hour.’ For me it’s a wonderful time to create, think and connect.The poet Rumi once wrote:

The breezes at dawn have secrets to tell you. Don’t go back to sleep.”

I’ve previously described creativity as energy–pure energy that fuels our lives and art in breathtaking ways—provided it is not blocked. And few other things can block creativity like noise—whether it be internal chatter or external clatter.  

That being said, it only takes silence a moment to reconnect us, to unblock creative energy stuck by noise. In this way I am happily reminded of how this awesome power is constantly around us and how it can be accessed after mere seconds of calm stillness.

In fact, creative energy is always present; we just can’t always “hear” it because of all the noise in our lives. But no matter how loud that noise gets, it can never totally cut us off from creative source energy. We are a part of that energy and it is a part of us. There is no separation. Even though that connection may get blocked from time to time. But it’s nothing that a quick dose of silence can’t fix.  

If you’re an artist and are currently blocked or if you’re facing a problem (the solution to which is eluding you) try approaching the problem from a place of silence—both mentally and otherwise. To do this find a quiet time and place. Then before you start empty all the mental chatter—the doubts, the fears, the to-do lists, the problems, the art itself. Instead, focus on your breath and (more so) the silence between each inhale and exhale. Slowly allow that silence to wrap around you, allow it to fill your mind, your spirit. The more you do this, the stronger your connection with creative power will become and the solutions to your creative blocks and problems will appear, as if from nowhere.

THREE GREAT WAYS TO CONNECT TO SILENCE

1) Give yourself the permission to be still. Allow yourself just a couple minutes a day to reconnect and refuel your creative power through silence. The world won’t fall apart if you give yourself a minute or two, will it?

2) Breathe. Be mindful of your breathing. It is your connection to silence and silence is your connection to your creative power and your creative power is your connection to your true and authentic self.

3) Try getting up early. Experience the power of the “Holy Hour” for yourself. Don’t let that comfortable bed entice you. Don’t go back to sleep. Important secrets are being whispered specially for you. Perhaps they are the solutions to the very problems you are experiencing right now.    

The next time your find yourself blocked either artistically or in life, try spending a few seconds with silence to find a solution. I think you will be pleased with the result

Thanks for visiting. A note of appreciation to all of my regular and new readers. Your interest in my work is deeply appreciated. Blogging can be solitary work so I really welcome your comments and questions. Be part of the discussion and throw me a comment or two.

Most internet browsers will recognize my Facebook comments box, or you can leave me a message by clicking the green “Contact Us” tab to the right of the screen. You can also sign up for my Email list by either using the sign up box on the right of the post or by clicking on the green “Contact Us” page.  My sincere apologies to all of you who have left comments in the generic comments box. It is not working properly and I am unable reply to and display all of your wonderful remarks from the last little while. Please try again using the other messaging options.

And if you get the chance, check out my book My Happy Workplace,   now available through most online retailers.  Hope to hear from you.Troy    

Are You Creative?

I’ve always considered myself to be a creative person. It’s also fair to say that I’ve seen my creativity as my most valuable trait—a prized possession, or an indispensable tool. As such, I cared for it and honed it over the years. In that time I came to depend on it heavily. I even started to identify myself by my creativity—it became who I was. So much so, that if I had ever been faced with losing that aspect of my personality I might have lost myself as well.

Yet, as important as my creativity was, I never once questioned where it came from or even what it was.  I had simply (and quite arrogantly) assumed that I had “created” it.  It was a part of me.  I had developed it over the years with effort, experience and talent. Hadn’t I?

Strangely, when I did go looking for it, I couldn’t find it. I desperately wanted to touch it, to feel it and to assure myself that my creativity was safe and sound inside me. Maybe I wanted one of those “creative bones” that people talked about. I was more than willing to put up the down payment on a prime piece of real estate somewhere in my brain reserved just for my creativity. You know, a nice plot of gray matter, overlooking my cerebellum, where I could go whenever I wanted to write or draw.

The problem was that my creativity never really felt like it came from me—not really. My best moments of inspiration came and went in a blur, leaving something wonderful behind without a clear memory of how I had done it. Sometimes, if I wasn’t fast enough to capture the inspiration on paper, the idea would be lost. How could this be if I was the one creating? If I was in fact the source of the inspiration? 

What if I was fooling myself? What if I was not the source of my creations? Had all my creativity come from somewhere else—outside of me? And where did that leave my identity? Who was I if I wasn’t the creative person I thought I was? Could I continue to write or was I just faking it?

If you do a quick web search about creativity you will find hundreds (if not thousands) of web pages describing rational, scientific explanations involving theories of psychology, determinant factors of intelligence, circumstance and chemical reactions. People have written volumes, presented workshops and lectures all detailing impossibly complicated conditions under which creativity occurs internally—within the person. Now you might think that this would have reassured me. My creativity was, in fact, tucked away somewhere inside me. Science said so! According to the research creativity is “simply” a matter of having just the right timing, education, talent, relationships and happenstance with a few chemicals and neurons thrown in for good measure. But this didn’t sound right either. If it were all so complicated then inspiration would have never gotten out of the gate and creativity would have died a terrible death centuries ago.  

No, as much as my Ego wanted to hold onto my own creativity, it seemed less likely that it is was internal biological process. So I was left with the alternative—I was not the source of my creations. Something else was.  

The concept that creativity flows to us, rather than from us, isn’t new. The Greeks (the forefathers of modern creativity and art) saw inspiration as a dish offered up by the Muses—invisible guides directing the artist’s hand. Michelangelo said that his famous sculpture “David” already existed, hidden inside the marble. All he had to do was chip away the pieces that didn’t belong. An intelligent Roman did not consider himself a genius but rather believed he had access to a Genius or Genii, a spirit being whose purpose was to direct and instruct. 

Now, it’s not necessary for us to start believing in unseen beings and voices to grasp the concept of external inspiration. But, I’ve learned to appreciate ancient traditions and beliefs for what they are—attempts to explain unseen processes by way of stories. They can help us to see creativity in a different way. One that is less Ego-driven.

The Ego weighs us down with things like pride, fear and doubt. All of which block creativity. It is very difficult to create from a place of Ego. It comes with far too much baggage. In contrast, if we see creativity more like energy—a force that does not originate from us, but through us, we simply need to remain open to receive that energy. And as it passes through us it is released in wonderful by-products: novels, paintings, poetry, music and just about everything else created.

Creative energy is in a constant state of movement through us. But it can only be expressed when we open up to it. Call it what you like: Source, Sub-conscious mind, Tao, The Field, God. Every tradition has a name for it. What’s important is that we recognize it.  

In this way, I believe we can all (and do) access creativity. The only difference is that some of us tend to block it, while others accept and use it. Creativity is not complicated at all—it comes down to a very simple question: are you open or closed?

So the first step in becoming more creative is to understand that you can’t. Creativity is not something that can ever be possessed, it can only be accepted and released. This is how we truly create.

If you believe that you don’t have a creative bone in your body, you might instead ask yourself how you could be blocking this natural flow of energy.

Next week I’ll start to explore these blocks one at a time and in more detail. I’ll also be offering suggestions on how to unblock them. Until then, thanks for visiting.To read more of my work please visit my blog or check out my book  “My Happy Workplace.” now free for download at Smashwords. If you have any questions or comments drop me a line at: troy_roache@hotmail.com.   

Perfect Imperfection

As a teenager my need to prove myself drove me to perfectionism.  Everything I did had to be perfect, pristine and precise—to the extreme.  So much so that I was spending more and more time and effort not just reaching my goals but unnecessarily exceeding them. 

Tweaking and redoing became a compulsion for me—especially in my creative endeavors.  Ironically, the need to reach my imagined view of perfection often destroyed the very thing I was trying to perfect.  What I didn’t know then was that there is no such thing as perfection.  What is perfect for one person is flawed for another.

In fact, it is the flaws, those tiny imperfections, which make something truly come to life and allow it to move pass the ordinary to the extraordinary.  Until I learned this, my true creativity remained blocked.

Here I would like to offer my heartfelt thanks and gratitude to my friend and former teacher Vernon Oickle for teaching me this very important life-lesson.  Throughout my high school years Vernon took on the role of my unofficial mentor.  He taught me lessons that went far beyond Biology or Chemistry.  Lessons that have helped me become the person I am today.

Vernon taught an oil painting class on Thursday nights and asked me to join. I can still remember the smell of the oils to this day. I enjoyed it very much, but I was frustrated when I couldn’t execute a particular landscape or object. Every so often, Vernon would look over my shoulder and suddenly tell me to stop.  “There!  That’s amazing!  Don’t touch it.  Leave it just the way it is.” He might have been referring to a subtle brush stroke or a bit of shading that I had done, no doubt, by accident.

I’d often protest, saying that it needed just one more thing.  In these times, Vernon would give me a knowing look of warning and smile as I ignored the advice and attempted to tweak the painting—only to ruin the specialness of what I had done. “Know when to let it go,” was his usual response.

The idea of “creative release” had never occurred to me until then. Inspiration flows through us, not from us.  As such, we must let it move along. If we fail to release the creative energy and try to hold it too long it will sour and spoil the work.  “Let it go. Release it.”

Vernon is a humble and modest man and probably doesn’t remember the important life-lesson he taught me, but he showed me the importance of artistic imperfection.  All things of beauty and greatness have some intrinsic flaw that make them special—that make them extraordinary.  Even today I can hear his voice as I’m writing and feel the need to pick at the work unnecessarily:“Remember Troy, excellence before perfection.” 

Make the work it’s very best while accepting it can never be perfect. Excellence, however, is an achievable and worthwhile goal. Excellence is knowing that exact moment when to release your inspiration to the world.  A second too early and it may fall short, a second too late and it may crumble.

Everyone can appreciate excellence, but we all have a different idea of perfection.  Excellence allows an artist to complete a great work, while perfection stalls and kills it. 

Excellence before perfection. Know when to say enough is enough and release it. Your work will not only turn out better, but you will feel better about it and get more done. 

Thanks for visiting. Please feel free to leave me a comment by email: troy_roache@hotmail.com. I’d be happy to post it.