Welcome to Tuesdays with Chel.
“We like to pretend it is hard to follow our heart’s dreams. The truth is, it is difficult to avoid walking through the many doors that will open. Turn aside your dream and it will come back to you again. Get willing to follow it again and a second mysterious door will swing open. … Goethe had this to say on the will of Providence assisting our efforts: Whatever you think you can do or believe you can do, begin it. Action has magic, grace, and power in it.”
– Julia Cameron
Welcome to the Bliss Habits Book Club! For the next several weeks, we’ll be discussing and working our way through The Artist’s Way, by Julia Cameron This week, we’re talking about Chapter/Week Three.
The discussion is continued on Facebook, as well. Please join us.
Cameron touches on many different issues this week. I’m going to jump around a bit, and make some connections where I saw them. I invite you to do the same- share your own connections in the comments or over on the Facebook page.
The chapter opens up with a bit about the issue of Anger.
“In the recovery of a blocked artist, anger is a sign of health. Anger is the firestorm that signals the death of our old life. Anger is the fuel that propels us into our new one.”
I will admit that I felt a fair bit of anger (and confusion) a few weeks back when I started thinking about the misconceptions that I had formed about creative work based on the things I had been told earlier in life. I wasn’t expecting that emotion.
However, I have a *decent* working relationship with anger. It’s something that I realized was inside of me at a very young age. I think it’s a by-product of being born with Spina Bifida- when you are a young child, and you are in pain, and are told to endure it, you react. Some people shrivel up from it, some people grow huge amounts of kindness and compassion for the world around them as a result of it, and some people get mad and then fuel that anger into recovery.
“Anger is fuel. We feel it and we want to do something. …Anger is meant to be listened to. Anger is a voice, a shout, a plea, a demand.”
I think I have always associated my anger with resilience, in a way. The angrier I got, the quicker I noticed myself recovering from things. Anger helped me to work harder, especially when it came to physical rehabilitation after surgeries, and by working hard I felt like I was taking back my own power. Now I’m wondering how I can make that work in my creative life.
“Anger is a map. Anger shows us what our boundaries are. Anger shows us where we want to go. We are meant to use anger as fuel to take the actions we need to move where our anger points us. With a little thought, we can usually translate the message that our anger is sending us. … It lets us see where we’ve been and lets us know when we haven’t liked it. Anger points the way, not just the finger.”
I have to admit, the subject makes me cringe a little bit. It’s almost feels like someone told me to put a roaring lion in a small pen with a tiny kitten. I’m not sure I want my anger and my creativity to meet. Creativity is a safe haven for me, a source of serenity. Sure, I get frustrated and disgusted often with my artwork, but not *angry* with it. But maybe I need to open myself up to that.
And then, there’s shame:
“If a child has ever been made to feel foolish for believing himself or herself talented, the act of actually finishing a piece of art will be fraught with internal shaming.”
I get this. I TOTALLY get this. I get gung ho about starting projects, about making them work and making them happen. But then two things happen- I either get really disappointed that they are not going the way I intended them to go and get pretty disgusted at my own creative abilities and just want to walk away. Cameron says:
“Remember that even if you have made a truly rotten piece of art, it may be a necessary stepping-stone to your next work. Art matures spasmodically and requires ugly-duckling growth stages.”
The other thing that happens, at least on my world, is that even when I like something I’m working on, finishing that project becomes almost a philosophical struggle. What’s the *point*? What good does this serve? How is what I’m making a contribution to the world, to humankind? Then I sort of taper off, and go find something else that seems like a better idea. Something that seems worth the investment of time and energy. And it seems great until it comes to climbing those last few steps to the peak, and all the internal questioning starts again.
But Cameron points out the following:
“The act of making art exposes a society to itself. Art brings things to light. It illuminates us. It sheds light on our lingering darkness. It casts a beam into the heart of our own darkness and says, “See?” … Art opens the closets, airs out the cellars and attics. It brings healing. But before a wound can heal it must be seen, and this act of exposing the wound to air and light, the artist’s act, is often reacted to with shaming.”
I never thought of creation this way. I mean, I know that art is basically a reflection of self. And as people receive that art, that creation, that perspective, they sometimes react in very strong ways- good and bad. I studied art history and there were as many works of art that made me infuriated as there were that made me swoon in awe. Art can have that effect on people.
So it’s hard to be creating and putting yourself out there in such an open way, and then have someone rip you to shreds over it. Or even worse- have NO response at all. That deafening silence is worse than anything. It’s sort of like when I write up a blog post or put something in the Etsy shop and… nothing. It’s crushing, in a way, that non-reaction. That scares me the most. And when I find myself creating something that I really put my heart into, that I really feel personally proud of, I find myself VERY hesitant to put it out there because I’m so afraid that it won’t resonate with anyone.
“Many artists begin a piece of work, get well along in it, and then find, as they near completion, that the work seems mysteriously drained of merit. It’s no longer worth the trouble. To therapists, this surge of sudden disinterest (“It doesn’t matter”) is a routine coping device employed to deny pain and ward off vulnerability.
A lifetime of this kind of experience, in which needs for recognition are routinely dishonored, teaches a young child that putting anything out for attention is a dangerous act.
Often we are wrongly shamed as creatives. From this shaming we learn that we are wrong to create. Once we learn this lesson, we forget it instantly. Buried under it doesn’t matter, the shame lives on, waiting to attach itself to our new efforts. The very act of attempting to make art creates shame.”
So the thing, for me, is this: isn’t the act of CREATING that art enough? That connection with my own soul, my own heart, and that spark that was strong enough to find its way out of my soul and into the world- isn’t that enough? Shouldn’t that be enough? Why ISN’T it enough?
“We must learn that when our art reveals a secret of the human soul, those watching it may try to shame us for making it. … At these times, we must be very firm with ourselves and not pick up the first doubt. We simply cannot allow the first negative thinking to take hold. Taking in the first doubt is like picking up the first drink for an alcoholic. Once in our system, the doubt will take on another doubt—and another.”
Cameron once again urges us to PROTECT ourselves, to guard our creative self as if it were a small child. To nurture ourselves, to create safe spaces for our creativity.
To create our own environment that is safe from shame, and where anger is a welcome emotion. I love these ideas, I really do. But how possible are they? For me, it will take a lot of work. I don’t think I realized how much self-consciousness I had about my creativity until I started this process.
And then there’s the other side of creativity- what if your creativity doesn’t land with a thud or is greeted with silence- suppose it actually has a positive response? It sounds great, but Cameron points out that for many of us, the idea of success (what she calls “answered prayers”) is every more frightening than the idea of cruel criticism.
“Answered prayers are scary. They imply responsibility. Answered prayers deliver us back to our own hand. This is not comfortable. We find it easier to accept them as examples of synchronicity. Anyone honest will tell you that possibility is far more frightening than impossibility, that freedom is far more terrifying than any prison. If we do, in fact, have to deal with a force beyond ourselves that involves itself in our lives, then we may have to move into action on those previously impossible dreams.”
So sometimes it’s easier to just do nothing. When you’re scared of all the outcomes- the bad AND the good- staying still and doing nothing is the only answer.
But suppose there’s sort of a third option? Suppose we just GO with it?
“When we answer that call, when we commit to it, we set in motion the principle that C. G. Jung dubbed synchronicity, loosely defined as a fortuitous intermeshing of events. Back in the sixties, we called it serendipity. Whatever you choose to call it, once you begin your creative recovery you may be startled to find it cropping up everywhere. Don’t be surprised if you try to discount it. It can be a very threatening concept.”
I think what Cameron urges us to do is basically “fake it until you make it”. It sounds sort of corny, but there’s actually scientific proof that “faking it” works. When you behave as if something is true, your brain changes. Connections form. You start to view the world a tiny bit differently. You see things that you couldn’t have seen before those physical changes in your brain occurred.
Sometimes the only way to get those neurons firing and wiring is to force yourself to approach life differently.
Suppose we all regarded ourselves not as creative “wanna-be”s, but actual CREATIVES? Suppose we started looking at the work we do as worthy and meaningful, worth both our time and energy and the focus required?
And suppose we started using language to convey that, even if it’s just a little bit at first? The past few weeks, I have started telling my daughter “I have to go and do some work” whenever I wanted to go work on a creative project. Not “I’m going into my studio to paint” or “I need to make some jewelry”, etc., but just telling her that it was work. It’s funny how that word – “work”- changes everything. For some reason when I tell her it’s “work”, she’s less likely to ask me to play with her.
I think “work is serious” is a concept that is taught very early on, and that the sooner we start defining our creative output as “work”, the sooner we’ll start taking it seriously, too.
“I have learned, as a rule of thumb, never to ask whether you can do something. Say, instead, that you are doing it. Then fasten your seat belt. The most remarkable things follow. Understand that the what must come before the how. First choose what you would do. The how usually falls into place of itself.”
Finally, remember this:
“Growth is an erratic forward movement: two steps forward, one step back. Remember that and be very gentle with yourself. A creative recovery is a healing process. You are capable of great things on Tuesday, but on Wednesday you may slide backward. This is normal. Growth occurs in spurts. You will lie dormant sometimes. Do not be discouraged. Think of it as resting.”
The discussion is continued on Facebook, as well. Please join us.
Chel Micheline is a mixed-media artist, curator, writer, and avid gardener/reader/swimmer who lives in Southwest Florida with her husband and daughter. When Chel’s not making art or pondering the Bliss Habits, she’s blogging at gingerblue.com (come say hi!) or posting new things in the gingerblue etsy shop.
hhhmmm…Anger… is not an emotion I encounter a lot. I find that anxiety is more my emotion for noticing where I need to work with boundaries, comfort zones, pushing myself. I can see how anger could be a creative tool for some though. So anything goes really!
When Cameron says, “Art matures spasmodically and requires ugly-duckling growth stages,” I have found this to be true, especially in relation to painting, which I’ve brought back into my life the past year after shying away from it–feeling my canvases not good enough, not special enough, etc. I find I’m at my best when I just continue to operate from love–offering up the painting with love, or whatever I’m working on, keeping the love focus. It actually helps me get over all the “stuff” I might be dealing with.
I hear you on the silence or non-response. My own blog readership has diminished quite a lot. I have a handful of true friends who visit still, and I am thankful for those real connections. As so many are hopping around different social media platforms, blogging seems to be going through a change. I think people are still reading, just not commenting. Everyone’s using social media more for interaction. But when feedback is scarce, it is easy to second guess ourselves. As humans, I think we are designed somehow for connection and engagement. Offering our art work creates a vulnerable place for us to be in. To grow we have to be willing to step in that vulnerable place.
For a while I’ve been in the “just GO with it” phase. Just create, and allow that process to unfold, and along the way I gain insights and answers as to what I’m meant to be doing with the art. After a very creative year this year, I feel myself going into a quieter phase as new creative ideas are presenting themselves in my mind. With winter on the horizon where I am, this feels normal. I have some new creative goals in mind for 2013 and developing those. If feels good to be allowing myself this time to get clear, gather and be ready for a new harvest. :o)
A wonderful post today, Chel!
I am envious that you identify with anxiety as the core emotion rather than anger. For me, my anxiety is like a swarm of bees- individually, the bits of anxiety doesn’t pose much of a threat, but when they whip up into a big frenzy, then it sort of morphs into anger. I’m starting to realize that what I define as “anger” is really a lot of excess energy, and simply getting up and moving around or going for a good swim helps to diffuse it.
(Actually, I am starting to realize EVERYTHING is basically energy at the core. Every single emotion, everything physical in life.)
I LOVE the idea of painting being a love offering. That is AMAZING! In fact, I just wrote that down in my journal so I make sure I remember it! What a fabulous perspective!! Thank you for that!
As far as silence, I try and remember that some things that were received with silence actually proved to be a stepping stone for something much larger. But it’s still difficult. I think it’s because of the soul connection we make to certain things- people, places, animals, things we create. And then when we try to extend it out to the world, and the connection seems to go dead (no one willing to pick it up and carry it on, keep the energy flowing in a forward direction) it’s very disconcerting and even heartbreaking. Often I’ve come to find that someone, somewhere down the line picks that connection up and carries it on in ways I never expected. Sometimes it just takes a while. It’s hard to be patient, though. It’s hard to just trust that all is working out as it should. But sometimes silence can be the greatest mask for something much larger. I just try to remember that, although it doesn’t make me feel any more patient!
🙂