Learning To Rest Is Learning To Trust Myself
// December 4th, 2009 // 9 Comments » // creativity
In a panic to create, I often find myself rummaging through my sketchbooks, journals, art books, creativity books, thinking books–any damn books. Searching for some jumping point for a piece of art or a blog post. I’ve just been doing that.
But here’s a funny thing. This post didn’t start to happen until I just stopped.
“Stop.” (I said to myself.) “My head feels tight and this is not fun, or creative.And aren’t those the things that I’m trying to achieve?”
So I stopped looking, opened up a document and just sat. Took a sip of water. Daydreamed a little.
“I’d just like to curl up and rest for awhile.” That was the first thing to come up.
Next thought: “Scratching–all that bustling about looking for inspiration. Twyla Tharp calls it ‘Scratching’, I think.” Oh, yeah. In ‘The Creative Habit’ she talks about scratching in different places to generate ideas for her projects. That’s what I was just doing, ‘scratching’ through my stuff for ideas. ‘Scratching’ is good.
But not now. Now resting is good.
Here’s an interesting thing. Currently on my desk I have a red box containing (counts for a moment): 13 moleskine notebooks in different sizes, some completed, some in progress. All filled, or filling, with sketches, ideas, quotes, thoughts, patterns, reminder notes on things to look up. I also have (counts again) 12 books on my desk that I have been flipping through for ideas. Twyla Tharp’s book was not one of them.
The ‘scratching’ thing just came up in my mind when I stopped panicking. When I abandoned the frantic searching and made the decision to stop, and rest. I think it was the right thing to come up, waiting for the right time to arrive. It’s not that the concept of scratching for ideas is what I want to talk about. I think what I need to talk about is letting go of the itch itself.
I don’t know about Twyla, but for me the itch is about wanting to impress people with what I create. Actually, I think it’s more about not wanting to embarrass myself with what I create. Bleah, even more than that, it’s about not wanting to create something that will start up that voice inside my head: the voice that doesn’t trust in my ability to create; that decides I have no right to be creating stuff, that labels the things I create ‘irrelevant’.
So, it’s not even about public humiliation. That’s easy to deal with, I can shut down my computer and not read blog comments, I can go invisible and not talk about what I do, I can make up stories about anyone who criticizes my stuff: “Oh, what would they know about creativity?, they’re probably a hot dog vendor in real life.” * (I bet 99% of hot dog vendors are actually brilliant artists and vending hot dogs is how they pay for their art supplies.) I actually handle external criticism quite well and can usually sift through and find what may be helpful for me, and discard what’s not, without getting too messed up about things.
But when the criticism is internal, and humiliating, it’s much more difficult to get away from. And it’s way too easy to give it a sense of credibility and authority it doesn’t deserve.
So for me, scratching, while a really useful activity can become distorted into a mad rush to outsmart the internal critic. I scratch because I find it scary to trust myself. That’s my itch.
What I love, and what I have to constantly relearn is this: when I just stop, when I let go of that desperation, when I trust myself and l simply rest in that–something comes up.
Even better, when I trust in myself enough to just let go, what comes up is the something that wants, and needs to come up. Better still, it doesn’t come up laboriously, brick by brick, but emerges with an entirely different energy, like a flock of birds unfolding from my chest.
I also find that what comes up is probably what I need to be looking at and mulling over right now. And if it’s something that I need to be looking at, then maybe someone else might be needing that too.
