Creating in the Middle of Things
How many years pass while we wait for the “right” time to do something? Even after decades of adulthood, many of us still believe that one day — in the not too distant future — somehow, eventually, ideal circumstances will arrive at our doorstep. We’ll wake up one morning and say “Yes! It’s finally here! That day I’ve been waiting for, when my to-do list is all crossed off, my in-box is empty, the house is spotless, the kids are occupied elsewhere, and the time has come to do X!” If this day ever does come, it probably doesn’t amount to more than once or twice in an entire year. So why are we still waiting?
Eric Maisel, creativity guru (and one of my former teachers at the Creativity Coaching Association), is a proponent of “creating in the middle of things.” This framework is perhaps the only way to stop perpetually deferring ourselves with an imaginary carrot.
I have learned in recent years that I am ALWAYS in the middle of things. There is nothing BUT the middle of things. As someone who continually heaps mounds of responsibilities and projects onto her plate, if I wait for the seas to part and reveal some magical “opportunity” for me to create, I’ll die waiting.
I’ve finally learned to stop saying “I just need to get through this week/month/season.” In the well-worn words of John Lennon, “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.” So long as I see daily life as some kind of obstacle between me and what I really want to be doing, I’m living in a very dark and unsatisfying place. How many moments have I wasted by trying to “just get through it” while staying focused on some mirage of future calm like a brilliantly wrapped gift, eternally beyond my reach? The present moment can’t be the obstacle. That’s insanity — and many of us seem to be afflicted.
I encourage myself, and you, to fully embrace the concept of creating in the middle of things — because for most of us, that’s the only way to create. Even my clients who have no children and no work obligations still find themselves with an overfull calendar and difficulty “making” time to create. In fact, one client who has no children or job says she can’t get her creative work done because her pets distract her too much. Regardless of our circumstances, we are always in the middle of something, aren’t we? It doesn’t matter what our details are.
If we have an overflowing, double-booked planner on one hand, and a paradigm of “I can only create if I have five hours of guaranteed solitude on deck” on the other, then we either need to get very serious about going to a cave every day, or we need to figure out how to change our parameters about what’s possible.
There are strategies that help. Always having a notepad on hand while out of the house. Knowing what the “next step” is in any given project so that we’re ready to jump right in. (See Emma-Jane’s wisdom at left for visual artists.) Staying connected to creative networks to bolster of creative sense of self. Keeping an ongoing list of all the projects we’d like to work on so that inspiration is always a glance away. If we have children, learning how to create WITH them (either alongside them or in collaboration). Allowing ourselves to make the most of creative practice even if we end up deviating from that “next step” plan. And most importantly, always keeping our eyes open for slivers of opportunity.
In Eric Maisel’s words: “If we intend to create we really should be checking in with ourselves several times a day (not a few times a week or a few times a month) with the question, ‘How about now?’ Sometimes we will answer no and sometimes we will answer yes, but if we answer yes only a quarter of the time and we are checking in with ourselves four times a day, then we will create every day. We should check in with ourselves as soon as we wake up, in case THAT is a good time, as soon as we get home from wherever, in case THAT is a good time, when an empty hour suddenly looms up in front of us, in case THAT is a good time, after dinner and before television, in case THAT is a good time, and so on.”
Are you checking with yourself?
“Don’t wait. The time will never be just right.”
This piece was reprinted from the last issue of the Creative Times, our monthly newsletter. Click here to subscribe!
sometimes parents dont make right choices but they believe their children will do good in their choices. I for one have made many choices that werent right,. As for my oldest daughter, maybe her choices arent what I would have made but that doesnt mean they arent the right choices. I am very proud of her and she is twice the mother I was. 3 beautiful children, though I would like to see them in school it is not my choice she is doing exceptionaly well teaching them at home. to each their own……………………… I love them all and am very proud of my daughter and hope her choices are better than mine.
Love yous all Nannie
Thank you, Miranda! I love it — “How about now?” Why, yes, I do think writing a new poem might be a good thing to do right now, rather than getting frustrated by ignoramuses on Facebook. Thanks for the suggestion! See you tomorrow at the Creative Open House! 🙂
This is an excellent post. I very much agree that we are always in the middle of things. It seems to me that creativity and the present tense are profoundly connected. I agree that aligning my creative impulses with my children’s is incredibly fruitful — when I allow it to happen, which is all too rarely. It is terribly hard to let go of being dutiful, especially when you know it will all be there still to do when you have finished being creative — so easy then to put the chores first. I would add: see an exhibition (trying going in the evening!) from time to time; walk whenever you can; invest in an iphone to use as a notebook — I keep multiple notes on mine, but they are easier to refind, and to organize; dance; try to work out your rituals for entering into a creative space — this is borrowed by Twyla Tharp; either make an appointment to write, or write if something goes wrong in your day (it helps to clarify your thoughts).