Have you ever dreamed of being wildly creative? So have I, but lately I’ve been settling for mildly creative, and you know what? I think the results are better.
Perhaps you’ve imagined, as I have, churning out ideas at a feverish pace, breaking new ground in unchartered territories of human thought, and producing piles and piles of powerhouse material. You want to be wildly creative like a mad genius high on paint fumes, because you think this is the way to break through the creative blocks that hold you in.
Perhaps you’ve been drawn, as I have, to almost any book or program or piece of software that promised to unleash your creative genius, for anything that offered a chance to spark your neurons, boost your brain power, or free your innovative spirit.
“Yes, yes!” you cried, “Ignite the fires of my imagination!” And then you noticed the people around you beginning to slowly, gently step away.
Yeah, I’ve been there.
I believed that creativity was some sort of manic state I had to whip myself into, and who could really blame me? Various gurus of creativity suggested things like writing at a breakneck speed, drinking gallons of coffee, and whacking myself on the side of the head.
I also thought that creativity, especially creative writing, was something otherworldly and mystical. Over and over I read about the importance of creating a sacred space, whatever that is. Light candles, burn incense, drink some herbal tea, listen to Gregorian chant . . .
But all this advice left me feeling frazzled and largely beneath the task. Sure, I could generate dozens of ideas, but I couldn’t bring myself to work on a single one. I was too keyed up and the whole process seemed too holy.
Over time, my focus changed. I wanted to know how to cool myself down rather than fire myself up. I wanted to know how to settle down and actually produce something. I wanted to know how to train my mind in order to think and act like someone becoming a writer and, most important of all, to enjoy the process. When I’m able to do these things, I find that I think better, work smarter, and feel infinitely more sane.
Trying to be wildly creative exhausted me and I never accomplished anything. Being mildly creative has the opposite effect.
For me, these are the keys to being mildly creative.
You quiet yourself in order to hear what you have to say, rather than shout at yourself to be more creative.
You allow yourself to work in small chunks, rather than force yourself to work in large blocks.
You focus on asking small, interesting questions, rather than on demanding big, amazing ideas.
You develop simple habits, rather than create complicated rituals.
You bring the act of creating down to earth rather than place it in some sacred realm.
You draw inspiration by living your life, enjoying your friends and family, and taking care of your health rather than by trying to lock yourself away for hours or days on end, starving yourself of human contact, and beating your brain and body into innovation.
Trust me. It works. And here’s a dirty little secret. This is how most of the real geniuses throughout history went about their work. Quietly, slowly, calmly, persistently.*
Do these things and they’ll probably never make a movie about your life on the edge as a wildly creative super genius. I guess you’ll just have to settle for being happy, sane, and productive – a mildly creative alternative.
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Bravo! Loved this, Ken. And the timing is interesting since I’ve got my Better Than Brainstorming teleclass tonight with Alice Barry. She and I are also planning something we call Follow Through Camp to help people move ahead with their ideas. Might we share this piece with our participants?
Ken, I love this post. The part that really resonated with me is the idea of “cooling down” and “training the mind.” I have slowly begun my own practice of doing just that and it led to me feeling, for the first time, like I now know my creative process and not just that, I know follow it. The quieting down leads to a natural ritual and before you know it, you have developed a mindful practice of daily creation.
Thanks Barbara and Alice. By the way, Alice, I loved your phrase, “a mindful practice of daily creation”. That really resonates with me. We’re just resonating all over the place.
Thank you, thank you, Ken. That’s exactly what I needed to hear. Lately I’ve been writing in small chunks instead of feeling stressed out because I didn’t have large chunks of time to devote. It’s amazing how those small chunks add up!
Keep on chunkin, Ryma.
Your “be mildly creative” concept is so realistic — and effective! Over the years, I’ve learned (sometimes the hard way) that we need to “be quiet” at times to really listen to our creative spirits and evaluate the tasks at hand. Being quiet also helps us to focus on completing projects in the “small chunks” you describe, and this prevents us from being overwhelmed by the “bigness” of our plans so we can keep moving forward. Thanks, Ken!
I think this idea is analogous to working out (though it’s been so many years I can’t trust my memory). Try to jog a couple of miles, or do a class of intensive aerobics, or do multiple reps at maximum weight on the full rotation of machines and you’ll be sprained, strained, and drained. You’ll convince yourself working out is not for you.
But if you start with a few steps or a few reps you’ll find it’s easy to duplicate the next day. We have to start where we are and work our way up to building our creativity muscles.
Funny you mentioned working out. For the past year, I’ve built a running habit and I’m always using what I’ve learned from the experience as a model for what I’m trying to do now.
Paging back through earlier posts; this is so apt… and so refreshingly comforting…. I can hear my many muses sighing with relief.