Sometimes when I'm trying something new with something I do a lot of (writing!), it becomes a real struggle. My brain doesn't want to take in the new information because it says, "But I already know all sorts of stuff about this topic!" Even though I know the information I'm trying to take in is new or might give me a new perspective, I run up against all the things I already know, and I think I know enough and don't need the new stuff.
The thing is, new stuff is pretty much always good. A new perspective, a new way of approaching something, all of that can lead to creative growth. But you (I!) have to bring yourself to a place where you can let in the new stuff. You have to get back to beginner mind.
When I'm in that place I return to Natalie Goldberg's writings about beginner mind to help me open up to new things and look at new things the way I would have as an absolute beginner. This article shares some of her thoughts on that. I'd like to also add a few ideas of my own.
You can't unlearn what you already know to get to beginner mind. I find that it's not a forgetting of what has come before. It's more a quieting of the voices telling you what you already know. Self-talk helps a lot with this for me. "Yes, but I don't know this thing from this person's perspective." Or, in the case of things like writing exercises and things to do, "Just do it and see what happens even if I already know how to do this a different way. See if the two ways go together." Things like that, acknowledging that I do know things but am trying new things anyhow really helps me get past the resistance and into more of a beginner mindset.
Talking back to the judgemental voice helps me, too. My brain sometimes has a fit about the new thing being different from what I already know and likes to throw out "this is dumb!" or "this is wrong!" messages. I tell myself, "It's just new. Just try it and see what happens." (That "try it and see what happens" is my favorite!)
As I work through new techniques and ideas, I do a comparison to see how they are like what I already know. Then I find where the differences are. My brain likes to analyze things, so doing this opens me up to moving forward with the new stuff.
Finally, sometimes I fall back on a favorite KaizenMuse saying. "So what? I'll do it anyway!" I just add a bunch of attitude and plow forward.
I'll admit, I am mostly writing this to remind myself that trying new things is good and useful. I'm butting up against my "but I already know stuff!" voice a lot as I work on The 90-Day Novel, I need the reminders to keep going anyhow. I hope some of this is useful for you if you're trying something new in an area you're already knowledgeable in, too.
As an aside, I always feel weird ending blog posts. I feel like there should be something that says, "the end," but not just a wrap-up paragraph as if it's an essay. So I'm going to try a sign-off.
Just a little wrap-up after my daily blogging with Effy Wild during April.
I love doing blog challenges! I had forgotten how much fun they are, and I'm so glad I did this and connected with a bunch of other creatives and stretched my blogging muscles.
Daily blogging is way too much for me, at least long term. But I like the push of "blogging must happen today," so I'm trying out a set schedule of blogging on Wednesdays and Sundays. We'll see how that goes.
Back on April 1 at the start of the blog-along I wrote about these cute habit trackers I found. I loved them! They were adorable! I completely forgot to use them after two days. It turns out having them glued into my planner does not remind me to fill them in. I did do some of the things on that list (blogging for the challenge which I did each day in April, story writing which I did very little of, and cleaning something which I also did very little of). I do great with my monthly exercise calendar which has my goals for the month and squares to put cute stickers in every time I exercise. And it also hangs on a board in my bedroom where I see it several times a day, and I'm wondering if that visibility is a much more crucial element than I realized. I'm going to rearrange a few things and make space for hanging up more trackers, and I will try again in June (or maybe a half-month thing starting mid-May).
I'm working through a 90-day novel writing book with a couple of writer friends. We started May 1, and so far it's different from what I imagined and seems pretty useful. More about that in another post, maybe on Sunday.
That's about it in my corner of the world. Looking at what's been working. Making plans for how to use that going forward. How are things in your corner?
I had a few different topics rolling around in my head for today's post. Then I opened Jon Acuff's Friday newsletter, and this sentence flung itself into my brain. I almost never read newsletters when they hit my inbox, so this was kind of an odd situation. I decided it must mean something, me reading it on the day I got it, and this sentence getting stuck in my head. And so here we are.
Feelings are an odd thing for me. I used to fight mine a lot. I used to try to never cry and not show too many of them. In my family, I was known for never crying at funerals. And at the same time I was actually incredibly emotional. I just saved the tears and the expression of it all for when I was alone or with a couple of close friends. It was like this all through high school and college and beyond.
I've been practicing more at expressing my feelings, examining them and doing what needs doing with them in a timely manner rather than burying them. And I've realized that my struggles with trying to control my emotions, keep them in check and invisible, has lead me to let them rule me and make all my decisions for me.
I've had that understanding but not quite these words for it until today when this phrase came along and lit everything up for me. Emotions are important. They need to be listened to, acknowledged, worked with. But letting them make the decisions in how I talk to myself and my actions--that doesn't need to be the way things go.
This is something I know, of course. I've known it for a long time. It's so much harder to practice than it seems like it should be. So this reminder today, when I've been having a lot of hard days, is good and needed.
I don't have a wrap-up. This is just a thing that swirled back into my attention today in a way that made it a little clearer and more solid, and now I am thinking of ways to work with it to help me move toward the life I want to be living. It's good stuff, but it's still open-ended. Like life is. Like so many things are.
I was just telling my partner that I want a spot in the backyard to go and hangout. In the past I had toyed with the idea of a she-shed, but right now the space just won't work. We're going to be putting an enclosed patio on the back of our bedroom, but right now the front yard is the focus. Then a friend got this super cute tent that has colorful pennants and swirly things on it, and I want one! Or something like that. For my backyard. So he came up with a few ideas for me, and I got pretty excited.
And then I stopped dead in my tracks. I don't tend to go sit outside. I never really have, unless I'm at an outdoor party or something like that. I shouldn't put any time and effort and money into fixing up a spot in the backyard. I just want to be that person who sits outside to read and listen to music. I've never actually been that person. What if I set everything up and don't use the space?
But then I realized that if you want to be a certain kind of person, you don't have to wait to do the things that sort of person does until you've made the proper inner shift or whatever. You become a certain type of person by doing the things that sort of person does. I
Writers write. Artists create. Backyard sitters go sit outside. So I'm going to set up a space for myself and see what happens. I might just be a person who enjoys sitting outside! And I'm going to think of what other people I want to be, and I'm going to start walking the walk. That's how you get there, after all.
I'm behind on a bunch of things I wanted to get done this week (going back to work flattened me, and I hate that!). But today I really needed to play with some paint. So I caught up a little bit with my Wanderlust lessons. Played with alcohol inks mixed with my paints on the gel plate. Got one print I especially liked, but the edges didn't lift so the actual print area wasn't big enough for what I wanted to do. So I made another one (and a couple more because gel printing!) and got this, and I'm pretty satisfied with this. And feeling better after having some play time.
The takeaway--sometimes, even if you have a lot to do, you have to step back and get in some creative play time to lighten up and give yourself a boost so you can get on with all the other stuff.
Today I ran across the idea of justifying why we do what we do in a several different places. In a Facebook group I'm in. In a newsletter I get. On Twitter.
One of these places (I already forgot--how does that happen so fast?!) shared this quote from Stephen King: "I have spent a good many years since―too many, I think―being ashamed about what I write. I think I was forty before I realized that almost every writer of fiction or poetry who has ever published a line has been accused by someone of wasting his or her God-given talent. If you write (or paint or dance or sculpt or sing, I suppose), someone will try to make you feel lousy about it, that’s all."
The newsletter was from a writer who's been writing for decades, and she asked us why we write. And her question, plus the quote above, reminded me of when I was younger and people would ask me why I was writing in my notebook. A lot of people also asked me why I was reading. One manager at the bank I worked in during my college summers would regularly remark, "Still reading those books!" with a laugh and a shake of her head like she thought I would grow out of reading for fun. She also sometimes asked about why I was always writing in my notebook during breaks.
Honestly, I never understood these questions. My family and the people around me always thought I was weird, but secretly I thought there was something wrong with them. Because how could they not understand how important it is to have stories and art?! How could they not see that we can see other worlds and other lives and so many more things than we could possibly experience in one lifetime otherwise just by reading and writing stories? (I will admit, though, that I did often fall prey to uncertainty about my role in making any of this art.)
There's a quote I can't find right now about why the world needs artists. We do. We need those glimpses of the beauty and the possible that they bring us. And we, as artists, need to keep bringing that to the world.
This is another rambling post. I don't have my thoughts about this organized and sorted, but I wanted to put it out there because it's on my mind today. I hope it makes some sense, and I hope it reminds you that we need to keep creating. The world needs our art.
Today is going to be a bit of a ramble, just some things I'm thinking about. I love notebooks. If you have been around my blog or any of my other online spaces for a while, you already know this.
I keep trying to find The Notebook. I keep trying to convince myself that I should pick one and go with it. But I just finished up this composition book where I do writing practice, and the Happy Planner I thought I would use as my writing practice book and catch-all notebook didn't do it for me. So I'm on to another composition book for writing practice (still need to decorate the cover!). And I've been beating myself up about having too many notebooks.
But yesterday I asked myself, "Is it really too much? Do I really have too many?" Do I use them all? Off and on. I've been using the Happy Planner (the latest in my slew of disc-bound notebooks) for my everyday book, my catch-all. So great. That one has a purpose and gets used a lot. But I love a composition book for writing practice, and I use it. So still good. I also love Moleskine cahiers. I use them for on-the-go writing practice sometimes, for notes for classes when I'm taking longer classes with lots of notes. I don't use them as much anymore, but I still use them.
I do have a hardbound faux Moleskine that I was going to try bullet journaling in, but I can't quite seem to get the hang of that, at least not yet.
There are a lot of notebooks around her. But some of them are older and used to get used. Some of them are in use now. There aren't actually that many that aren't being used. And you know what? I love them! That right there means they belong. They make me happy. I'd love to get them all into one place. One shelf maybe, with filled books on one side and empty books waiting to be filled on the other. So I could see what I have. But right now I'm going to stop insisting that I pick one kind and stick with it. That's NEVER going to make me happy.
So, lots of notebooks it is! Check that off the list, stop worrying about it, and move on to what kind of stickers I need for the covers!
I have a three day weekend starting now. I'm not even working every day right now, but those words "three day weekend" put a bounce in my step and a lightness in my heart. Why? What does this mean?
It's a freedom. And openness. Space that's ready to be filled with endless possibilities. There's so much energy in knowing you have this space and time to fill how you want. I want to feel like this more.
I don't have any answers right now. Just questions. How can I feel more of this three day weekend energy on ordinary days? How can I cultivate that enthusiasm and excitement and feeling of open space and open-ended possibility more often?
New paths start with the right questions. I hope I'll be back here, sooner rather than later, with some answers or at least some things to try.
I'm not too into watercolors, at least not with the techniques like sprinkling salt, tapping wet paint off the brush, sprinkling alcohol. It feels fussy, and the paint never goes where I want. Plus, I'm not super comfortable with sketching. This lesson had me dragging my feet a lot. But yesterday I finally sat down and did it (finished the writing and words today, though). And I liked it! I like that galaxy look and how it blends into the lighter blue area I put into the top left. I even liked sprinkling the gold and silver paint!
I could have (maybe should have) made this a little easier by doing it on separate paper rather than right in my journal, but my supplies are really disorganized right now so that felt kind of hard. But I probably would have been less resistant if I had done it in a way that felt temporary, that felt like I could just throw it out if I didn't like it.
So what's the message here? Do the thing. Try it! Experiment! Find a way that makes it feel easier, or at least less hard or scary. But do the thing. Cool stuff happens when we just do the thing.
I don't always have the best relationship with my body. I spent my whole life from age ten into my forties trying to make it into the "right" shape and size. Then I spent a lot of time trying to break that diet, cult of thinness mentality. Then old injuries caused new injuries, and a medication caused tendon damage in my hip, and so chronic pain came along.
When our bodies are hurting or not working quite right, or when we have those bad body images foisted on us by society, it's easy to spend as much time as we can living in our heads. But one thing I'm learning more and more--especially now because I've started some new physical therapy stuff for the various injuries--is that our bodies are ourselves, and they need our love and attention.
I think our creative work can flow better, can come out better, when we spend some time doing good things for our bodies. What good things? That depends on the body, of course. Just like with other experts, it's important to not just listen to and jump in on whatever the fitness gurus say. Here too we have to find what's right for us.
I know that when I'm giving my body attention, I can find things that feel better (maybe not completely get rid of the pains, but make them better which is good). And I feel like this attention to my body helps me when I'm trying new things in my art--I can feel the difference in ways to hold a pen or brush, how much pressure is light versus heavy. The physical transfers itself into my creative work.
Giving attention to my body also helps me have more energy because I know when to rest and when to stop doing something that's putting too much strain on me. It touches on all parts of my life, including my creativity.
Our bodies are part of our creative journey. We should decorate them, care for them, love them, and give them all the good things so they can carry us along our path.