I’ve been thinking a lot this past week about the push-pull between life’s demands and creative practice. Painting and writing this week felt overly effortful and forced, like squeezing the very last bits of toothpaste out of the tube. Sometimes we do our work and it’s a slog and we simply don’t have much to show for it: some false starts, or some material that can be salvaged, maybe, we are not sure yet. Sometimes everything just seems like garbage. It just doesn’t come together how or when we want it to. That’s how this past week’s work was for me. It’s not quite a creative block or burnout, more a sensation of feeling spread too thin.
I have noticed a common denominator of these experiences: it usually happens when I’m trying to pull too much out of myself too fast.
Our energy and resources have a flow capacity, one that is mostly set at any given time. Being an easily overwhelmed human, I try to keep things simple and split that flow into only a few streams. But life is always changing, and new projects or events (like beginning this writing project and moving to a new apartment this week) hoover up a portion of my energy, splitting it into more streams. So the demands have multiplied, but I’m still just me; my capacity is the same.
So, what to do when demands exceed capacity?
First, keep going while at the same time respecting your limitations. Instead of your creative practice being like a regular light switch, with “on” and “off” positions, Think of it as a dimmer switch. Dial things down and find a balance between creating more ease for yourself and letting yourself off the hook entirely.
Second, prioritize process over product. Focus on just working and don’t worry too much about what happens. None of this work is wasted, even if you don’t have much to show for it at the moment.
Doing these things can look a million different ways, and I’ll be putting my own advice into practice in the coming weeks. For me right now, it means painting, writing, reading as much as I can, keeping the thread of momentum alive in my work, but with less striving. Tuning in and modulating that dimmer switch as needed: enough creative work to keep my muse on the line, time to get through the move and unpacking, and enough margin and self-care to stay sane.
Gleanings
“Try not to resist the changes that come your way. Instead let life live through you. And do not worry that your life is turning upside down. How do you know that the side you are used to is better than the one to come?” – Rumi
Skyler McGee on Instagram, getting to the essence, as she does: “That’s what I really mean when I say I’m an artist.”
This performance by Hania Reni is wonderful. And this one is new to me, different, and fun.
Respecting our capacity often means saying no, even if we want to say yes or feel pressure to. I re-read this from time to time: Saying No With Grace
My current nerdy rabbit hole: Zettlekasten, an awesome tool for any sprawling creative project, detailed more recently in this book. (But who would want to call it “smart notes” when you could call it zettlekasten?!)
Explanations for digital versions here and here.
These are fun! I want the “perfection is boring” one, which one would you pick? :)
That’s it for this week. As always, thank you for reading!
Yours in practice,
Lisa
I read a quote years ago, which has resonated at various times - but particularly when I am trying to do everything:
“There is no such thing as work-life balance. Everything worth fighting for unbalances your life.”
― Alain de Botton
I think your Rumi quote is better, but the sentiment feels similar to me. Something about staying grounded in the moment and allowing it to have your attention even if it feels chaotic... and allowing other things to not have your attention, which for me has always been the harder part; I think one necessarily means the other - there is only so much attention to go around.