As I lie in bed sick as the proverbial dog (just a nasty flu, nothing that scary… but that’s the price of working with twenty-four three-year olds) I’m reading Art & Soul Reloaded, which tells me to get up, show up, and let the Muses channel it through me (‘it’ being art, spirituality, and the cheesy romance stuff that I’ve been writing for, Goddess forgive me, four years now)… and will I?
As some of you might have noticed – some of you being the three people who actually read all my stuff semi-religiously (looking at you, J., O., and G.) just because these three wonderful people are kind, and we – used to (see below) – fancy the same fictional hunk – I haven’t been exactly ‘channeling it’ since December. And before it… well, the trickle of creativity had been, put frankly, feeble. Why? Who knows. (And sadly, no, I don’t mean a hot Scottish Doctor, or even an adorable fluffy thing from Dr. Seuss). That ‘who’ who knows why Katya has been off radar – is Katya herself.
And the answer the Katya would give if asked is… ‘I just didn’t feel it.’ Or, more precisely, ‘I’m just not feeling it.‘ Whatever the ‘it’ is – and I can most un-modestly say that three years ago when receiving a passionate compliment for my smut writing (*sarcaaaaaaaasm* what an accomplishment!) I did say ‘I’m not writing it! It just flows! I just write it down!’
I’ve been working an inconvenient shift recently; it ends at 5.15 and then I bus for 20 min to pick up my son at daycare; and then we bus home; and I feed him dinner; and I need to cook and pack lunches… and then he goes to bed and I could probably sit down and try to feel it. Or alternatively, I could wake up (because I once again fell asleep at my desk (having ‘produced’ nothing by the way)) and go to bed. That is an excuse. Pam Grout tells you to stuff them up your creative arse (and according to Pam every arse is creative) and create. I’ll see what excuse I’ll come up with when my schedule changes (I’ll explain later. Like, couple paragraphs later.)
November 28th I started my formal Headspace practice. I suggest anyone who reads this (which is stupid since the three people reading it have already had a personal conversation with me on this topic) to give it a go. And all I mean is to poke the free app or watch a video on YouTube. For me, Headspace is a miracle. It has worked miracles. It is… just wow. And it’s that sort of mundane miracle, the sort that, when it happens, you go, ‘Why the frack didn’t I do that before?’ It’s that simple. And that miraculous.
G. (reader turn a very, very dear personal friend) asked me a couple weeks ago (in yet another message that I write an answer to every day in my head, but haven’t actually written an answer to… yet) how it feels to create in this new grounded state of mine. And I do believe I’m somewhat marginally a tad more grounded than before. I contacted the centre that had offered me a job at the same time as the one I’m working at right now (and it really isn’t working for me here) and they still want me, and the shift there will be 7.30 to 3.30, and hopefully I’ll be less drained and stressed out (by the work itself, not by the lack of writing (see below the hunk discussion)). That came from meditating with Headspace. So has better sleep, less emotional spikes, better eating habits… and watercolours. Yes, watercolours. I’m painting again. Every free second… quoting Eddie Izzard, ‘of which there are five.’ And I’m loving it.
But I’m not writing. For the first time in many, many years there is no narration in my head. No nagging feeling of ‘I should be writing.’ The idea of an incomplete story (or a couple dozen of them, on three sites) doesn’t bother me. I’m just not. Writing that is. And again, I don’t mean the act of writing (fingers clicking buttons) – there’s no low humming of text in my head; no characters talking to me and each other; no flutter in my chest (cliché alert!). When I look at the pictures of the aforementioned fictional hunk inspired by a certain British actor (this is the ‘first below’ mentioned above)… nothing. Nada. I see an attractive man. I hear no fandom call; my lady parts aren’t excited. (The lady parts are doing great by the way, also thanks to Headspace. But that’s probably a conversation for a different day.)
And if meditation has taught me anything at this stage (‘if’ being the key word. Or maybe ‘mediation’ or ‘stage’ are the key words here. I don’t know. Don’t ask me, I’m just here for a ride) it taught me to ‘take it as it is.’ And what it is… I don’t know. What is it? Is it a writer’s block? But I’m not blocked. I’m just floating on a cloud of content observing minutes and hours and days without writing go by. Is it a creative crisis? But I’m not suffering. If you ain’t suffering I feel like it can’t be qualified as a real crisis. (Nor the British kind of crisis either. But close, very close by the way. Nothing beats a calmer mind, let me tell you that. For me personally, that is. Your jam is your own.)
Headspace mediations warn you against creating narratives and getting stuck on them, so I’m just going to say the following:
- I paused my Patreon account because I’m not making any stuff (a term from Art & Soul book, I really do prefer it over ‘creating art’).
- I’ll continue painting, so Jane and Rochester for G. and a terrarium for J. are coming; and then we’ll see.
- I’m going to write more on this blog. This sounded pathetic. Ha. How’s that: ‘I’ll be documenting my creative journey on my blog because Art & Soul book told me to as one of my weekly assignments.’ And I am, as I was once told by my daycare supervisor (I’m still bitter about it. I’ll go meditate on it) ‘an obedient person.’
- I’m still planning to publish something in March as part of my Wren+Raven Publishing thing. Maybe Official Town Business will go to Amazon Kindle, since it’s complete and peeps on Wattpad are digging it. (I have managed to write a looooooooot of stuff in the last four years, haven’t I? So potentially I can continue publishing even if I don’t write for quite a while. There are those five books of Dr. T Series, and so on… But do I want to?)
- I’m going to listen to what Art & Soul tells me (or more like ‘yells to.’ Have you noticed how some books are loud? That’s another thing that meditation has changed for me. I think I listen better now. I hear better. But as a side effect, life and many little and not so little things in it became so loud.) and I’m going to get my arse off a chair and make stuff. I’m going to get up, show up, and make stuff. I’ll keep you posted.
Literally. (I do love this word. Sue me. People are allowed to love things that aren’t universally considered loveable.) So, I’ll literally post about how it went. The whole getting up, and showing up… Now I’m rambling, I should shut up.
P. S. Art & Soul says to ask Muses to channel their it though you. As in actually ask. To offer the Universe a prayer before you start to work your creative arse off, because that’s the only way to create. You sit down and do the work. Mid chapter 2 of Art & Soul or something of the sort I had a thought that maybe there’s something to the whole ‘asking the Ether for the gift of channeling the it thing’… and a few pages later it did. This fell out from between the pages. I mean, hello! Speaking of a speaking universe.