I.
For those of you who have interacted with any of my content so far this year, you’ll already know about my obsession with Julia Cameron’s book, The Artist’s Way.
(I honestly should get an affiliate code or something, I don’t think I’ve ever recommended something so voraciously!)
But as I now enter Week 10 of the work (which is technically closer to actual week 15 of doing it, but I took some breaks to give myself time for certain tasks to integrate) it very much feels like we’ve reached a turning point.
Where I’ve so far spent a lot of time reflecting on what holds me back from being my fully expressed fearless creative self, the question now being asked is this:
“So, you’ve cultivated this shiny level of self-awareness around your creative dreams… now whatcha gonna do about it–huh?”
*gulp*
II.
Throughout my journey with the Artist’s Way I’ve discovered one of my core desires in life is recognition.
I know that might sound awfully egotistical, but this desire comes from a place where I am consistently filled with wonder as a result of my personal contemplations and I desperately want to share this feeling with others.
The more I learn, the more wisdom I want to pass on to make others’ ride through life a little easier.
(Reading this back, I’m eye-rolling myself a LOT at how that sounds but I’m committed to being honest AF here, even/especially when it sounds unflattering, narcissistic or self-important.)
You see, I want us all to shed the limited perceptions of ourselves we’ve wrapped around our shoulders to protect our squishy centre.
I want us to be able to offend others, and get offended without letting our hearts harden and instead see each moment where we bump up against things that feel prickly as an invitation to listen, not to argue.
I want to create a world where cancel culture doesn’t exist, where we can condemn actions but forgive people.
A world where it’s not only OK to be a messy imperfect human that makes mistakes, but where that’s celebrated.
This is the work I crave recognition for.
But to be recognised, I have to be visible…
III.
So far, my journey with “getting visible” has been rooted firmly in strategy.
I’ve been able to justify my online sharing with a fancy diagram showing how it might eventually loop back and generate income for me, therefore making my creative endeavour worthwhile.
(Look mum, I’m not being irresponsible… there’s a plan!)
But in requiring my work on some level to be “strategic” I’ve created limitations which means that ideas which feel alive & exciting get left on the cutting room floor because I can’t clearly see how they’ll benefit my bank account.
Now I should say here, I think limitations are a good thing, they force us to be creative and explore options beyond the obvious or easy.
But the problem arrives when those limitations are self-imposed ones born out of fear.
Fear that we’ll fail. Fear that we might not be as good as we think we are. Fear that our parents will worry about us. Fear that our friends will judge us. Fear that god forbid, we might do well and then won’t be able to take naps in the middle of the day because our calendar has filled up with demands from other people. etc. etc.
And honestly, the biggest one for me? Fear that if I let the joy of creativity be my compass, I’ll end up poor.
This is why strategy, or more accurately, monetisation strategy has been how I’ve justified most of my creative endeavours to date.
(My limiting beliefs are showing, yes, I know. How embarrassing.)
But what’s come through my Morning Pages with a boring regularity is my resentment towards having to package myself up & make myself easily consumable if I want to get paid.
You see, I understand the theory. And it makes a heck of a lot of sense. Defining and making yourself findable is also a gift to the people searching for you. But boy oh boy can adopting these labels erode the creative spirit.
With allllll of that being said however, I do *actually* believe that most of us have our own unique message and creative contribution to bring to the world.
But we find this through the act of creation, not strategic planning.
We’ve got to have adequate “fuck about & find out” time before our own brand of genius makes itself known.
Which brings me to my point, I guess.
IIII.
I just took a break from writing this to hang up the washing with my husband & he asked me what I’d been writing. My answer?
“Oh, I’m just writing something for fun, ya know!”
His reply: “I didn’t ask why, I asked what.”
My response: “….”
You see, despite the fact we’re now 769 words into this baby, I have no idea wtf I’m actually writing here.
I’m just… *shrug*… writing?
And herein lies the purpose, I suppose.
I’m letting whatever wants to be expressed through me in the moment be expressed, without strategy. Without any agenda beyond simply letting the words come out as they will. Letting the work come to life, line by line.
And yes, I’m also publishing this *gulp* because why the fuck not, ya know?
I don’t know where this will go. I hope to god this isn’t the last and only time I write like this… in fact the intention is the opposite! I want this to be a regular full-time thing.
I want to be surprised where something as simple as the act of creating without agenda can take me.
I want to look back in 5 years and cackle with glee when I read this and think back to the person who I am today, who has no idea what’s about to happen to her.
By writing this, my intention is to cultivate the courage to create freely.
By publishing it, I hope to encourage the same in others.
P.S. The strategist in me is DESPERATE to leave a call to action that encourages you to comment, subscribe or whatever other shit I’m supposed to do. I’m telling you because I want you to understand that “unbecoming” won’t be an overnight process for me… Me leaving this
PS instead is a way to acknowledge the discomfort I’m feeling about this WHOLE piece. New habits are built with baby steps, especially if we’re hoping not to revert to default after the novelty has worn off.
