Tag: creativity

  • Why silence creates connection …

    "... after weeks of quiet 
    the world suddenly 
    sounds loud 
    instinct would have me 
    block it out 
    but I’m working on 
    tuning back in 
    which I know I must ..."

    Years ago I completed The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron and it totally changed the way I think about creativity.  In fact, I’ve done it twice, once with a friend and later again on my own.  Perhaps you’ve heard of it and possibly completed it yourself?  I expect that everyone who does it will take from it something unique to them; equally there will undoubtedly be plenty of shared revelations too.  Turns out that if you dedicate time in your day to focus on your creativity, then it will come.  Who knew?  Before I took up The Artist’s Way, I used to think that inspiration would find me but that’s not how it works. Not for most people anyhow.  You have to work at it, give it time and space, and welcome it in.  

    I recently listened to an interview with Jackie Kay on Radio 4’s This Cultural Life, where she basically said the same thing.  She recounted that writing is her best friend because it was always there for her, as long as she turned up.  She also quoted Picasso who apparently said, “Inspiration will come but it’s got to find you working”.

    I gave a copy of The Artist’s Way to one of my work colleagues last year as she was struggling to find her voice and I thought it might help.  When looking to order the book, I saw that Julia Cameron had written a new book called The Listening Path, and I bought a copy for myself, thinking I’d give it a go.  Like The Artist’s Way, it’s a guided course over a number of weeks and the focus is on listening.  It’s been sitting on a shelf ever since, but now feels like the right time to pick it up. I reasoned that it might help me focus as I adapt to life back in the UK.  I think it’s a good shout because soundscapes feel very alive to me just now.  Perhaps it’s to be expected after weeks of relative quiet, living in a camper van, feeling small in the midst of huge landscapes.

    I’ll admit that I didn’t expect the adjustment to life back in the UK to be quite so difficult.  I didn’t think I’d have to work at it.  I just assumed that I’d slip seamlessly back into my routines, like riding a bike as the saying goes. But instead, I’ve found everything so loud, fast paced and, frankly, somewhat uncomfortable.  It’s tempting to block it out, and retreat into my own little world.  But through The Listening Path, I was invited to consider that when you block unwelcome noise, you become disconnected .  It’s only when you welcome in sounds that you’re connected and in tune with your environment.  This makes sense: how can I be alive to the moment if I’ve closed the door on it?

    Busy street scene.

    As a result, I’ve really tried to tune in to what is going on around me, which is how I came to write this week’s poem.  It hasn’t always been easy, and the evening we recently spent having dinner with our best friends, proved a real test for me.  I simply couldn’t keep up with the conversation and the temptation was to give up.  But I didn’t; I persevered.  We stayed overnight, as we always do due to the distance between our two houses, and the following morning it was such a delight to sit in their living room and purposefully tune into the sounds emerging from the kitchen.  It reminded me that all of life is precious.  It’s hard to beat the experience of sharing home-cooked food around a table with people you love.  Yet, all the work that goes into preparing a meal and the cleaning up afterwards, is a necessary part of  the same story isn’t it?  Finally, I knew I was glad to be home, re-connected to my life, ready to tune in, listen and be inspired. 

    I’d encourage you to focus on the sounds you can hear and how you respond, creativity may emerge if and when you work at it.

    soundscapeDownload

  • How one small thing can prompt big changes …

    "... when the world feels  
    overwhelming 
    the news headlines  
    robbing the world of joy 
    day after endless day 
    the only thing  
    you can stop is you ..."

    I spent a day and a half recently on a ferry, which felt like suspended time.  You’re forced to slow down and adapt to a new way of being, which is perhaps no bad thing.  I tried practising some yoga on the deck, which proved impossible.  How foolish of me to imagine that I could counter-balance the shifting sea.  Plan B was to simply sit and watch the waves, enjoy the moment and let myself be still.  I had nowhere else I needed to be; indeed nowhere else I could be.  It was a lesson in letting go of my need to somehow manage every minute of my day. 

    A ship's bow sailing into a sunset on the ocean.

    It’s so easy to be sucked into a way of life that we wouldn’t chose for ourselves if we had the choice.  How many of us have pondered how different our lives might have been if it wasn’t for the choices we’d made? Perhaps that’s the thing to focus on: choice.  Sometimes we are so far down one path that we think we can’t deviate or turn back, but we can!  We may chose not to, but I think we almost always have a choice.  

    It doesn’t necessarily have to be the big things. I’m not suggesting we all make drastic changes, like quitting jobs, filing for divorce and moving to a commune.  Can you imagine the ensuing chaos if we all did that?  It’s amazing what a huge difference small changes can make.  Just think back to those marginal gains leading to Tour de France wins for the Sky Cycling Team.  And let’s not forget Dr Michael Moseley’s attempts to persuade us, as a nation, to do “just one thing” to improve our health.  

    Who would’ve thought an introduction to weaving would prompt a shift in my perspective?  But it did and this poem is the result.  Perhaps it was the need to concentrate on doing something physical with my hands. Or maybe it was simply the fact that I was doing something different: I wasn’t looking at my phone; listening to the news; or busy trying to do several things at once.  We have a tendency to think that we need to take drastic measures to effect change in our lives.  I was speaking to a friend recently who told me that she wants to change her lifestyle.  Each morning she feels enthused, only to lose momentum later in the day.  I suggested that she make small steps first and follow the rule of three.  I love this rule!  You focus on just three things over a three month period, rather than try to tackle everything in one go.  It feels more manageable somehow. 

    Trying something new is a great way to re-boot.  Sometimes that can be purposeful; other times it is gifted to you by circumstances beyond your control.  Like the ferry crossing I mentioned earlier.  No matter how much I might’ve wanted to arrive quicker, I simply had to adapt to a slower pace of life for the duration of the crossing.  Maybe today is your day to try something new?  Perhaps you’ll discover new depths you didn’t know you had!  I feel sure that, like the ocean, we all have hidden treasures yet to be discovered.

    weavingDownload