the messy middle
Reporting live from the messy middle.
There’s a moment in the creative process, and I think my creative friends will recognize this moment, when you start to question and doubt everything.
In the beginning of a piece, learning a new medium, experimenting with a new process, it’s all fun and games. The excitement. The vision. The anticipation.
And there’s often even a quick, easy win. Yes. Yes this is going well. This is working.
And then. Then there’s the messy middle. Sometimes it’s a physical thing. The piece has gone awry. Oh no, did I wreck it? Did I go too far? Can it be saved?
And sometimes it’s mental. What am I doing? Who am I to do this thing? I’m not good at this. I should stick to what I’m good at.
This is the voice of resistance. And though uncomfortable, resistance is a part of the process. You can move with it or against it, but I don’t know anyone who’s been able to do their creative work and avoid it entirely.
Here’s what my resistance is telling me now:
You’ve tried this before, these other mediums, and you always are excited in the beginning and then end up walking away.
You are not very good at this. And you probably won’t be.
There’s not enough time for all the things you want to explore. You’ll never get good at any of the things if you’re trying to do too many things.
I know these are lies.
It’s true, I’ve walked away before, but that experience is still in me. Nothing has gone to waste. And as my teacher @cjust pointed out, maybe I needed to walk away. Maybe that was a crucial part of it.
I may not love everything I’m making now, nor will I ever because that’s not really how creativity works, but there are things I’ve made that I know are good. And what good means here is that I like them. And I can learn to do better. I have already learned so much.
And the mantra that was gifted to me at the last eclipse: There is time and there is space for what is calling.
I hear my resistance and I love it for trying to keep me safe and trying to protect me from disappointment. Instead of trying to shove it down or pretend it’s not there or fight against it, I’m trying to acknowledge it, listen to it, and work with it.
There’s a moment in the creative process, and I think my creative friends will recognize this moment, when you start to question and doubt everything.
In the beginning of a piece, learning a new medium, experimenting with a new process, it’s all fun and games. The excitement. The vision. The anticipation.
And there’s often even a quick, easy win. Yes. Yes this is going well. This is working.
And then. Then there’s the messy middle. Sometimes it’s a physical thing. The piece has gone awry. Oh no, did I wreck it? Did I go too far? Can it be saved?
And sometimes it’s mental. What am I doing? Who am I to do this thing? I’m not good at this. I should stick to what I’m good at.
This is the voice of resistance. And though uncomfortable, resistance is a part of the process. You can move with it or against it, but I don’t know anyone who’s been able to do their creative work and avoid it entirely.
Here’s what my resistance is telling me now:
You’ve tried this before, these other mediums, and you always are excited in the beginning and then end up walking away.
You are not very good at this. And you probably won’t be.
There’s not enough time for all the things you want to explore. You’ll never get good at any of the things if you’re trying to do too many things.
I know these are lies.
It’s true, I’ve walked away before, but that experience is still in me. Nothing has gone to waste. And as my teacher @cjust pointed out, maybe I needed to walk away. Maybe that was a crucial part of it.
I may not love everything I’m making now, nor will I ever because that’s not really how creativity works, but there are things I’ve made that I know are good. And what good means here is that I like them. And I can learn to do better. I have already learned so much.
And the mantra that was gifted to me at the last eclipse: There is time and there is space for what is calling.
I hear my resistance and I love it for trying to keep me safe and trying to protect me from disappointment. Instead of trying to shove it down or pretend it’s not there or fight against it, I’m trying to acknowledge it, listen to it, and work with it.