Habit vs. Muse

Posted on by sereichert

If you’re a writer or a creative of any kind you’ve known the sweet kiss of a muse. Sometimes it comes skipping through your bathroom, mid shower, and smacks you in the back of your shampoo-frothed head with a bat. Sometimes it tickles your ear, an errant breeze, while you’re outside waiting for your dog to be done with their business. Sometimes it meanders through the crosswalk, wearing clown shoes and a rubber duck hat while you’re waiting for the light to change. Whatever and whenever it hits you, its like the lighting of a match inside of your cold little cavern of a brain and its…brilliant.

With any luck, you’ve stashed pens and paper, notebooks, post-its, cocktail napkins and chocolate pudding in odd and disconnected places to jot down what it’s trying to tell you. Or I guess you could use your phone (old person eye roll). The point is, the muse is a beautiful part of what it means to be creative.

The trouble is…It doesn’t really exist.

A moment of silence for my former, favorite imaginary friend.

You see…”creatives” don’t have more encounters with “the muse” because we’re slightly unhinged and floppy in the gray matter (I mean, we might be, but that has very little to do with inspiration, and probably more to do with preferring to be in a state of la-la land over the past and current hellscapes).

We become ‘amused’ because we spend time building good habits pertaining to our art. Ideas are like seedlings, habits are the fertile soil. If you’re not building up healthy and rich (worthwhile not monetary) habits, there will be fewer little ideas sprouting up.

So what are these habits, Sarah?

Well, for one, you have to write.

Duhhhh…. Okay, I know that’s a easy pitch. But it’s really not that simple. So many of us simply won’t sit down until we feel inspired. Or we PROCRASTINATE with every other conceivable chore and ‘have-to’ before we sit down to write. Or we may sit down, but we stare at the cursor blinking or distract ourselves with ‘research’. Decide the baseboards need dusting, or the dog needs its ears cleaned. There are a billion ways we avoid it. I do too. And constantly I ask myself why.

*Side Quest* It’s because of fear. Usually. Fear that what I write will be shit. Fear that it will be really good and I’ll fall in love with it and lose myself for months and no one else will love it as much. Fear that what I write won’t lead anywhere. Fear that I’ll mess up my grammar, my POV, my plotline, my characters, my punctuation. Fear that it won’t be good enough. Fear that I won’t be good enough. Even with books out. Even with publications and awards. That old fear is a nasty briar patch to the rose garden of my work.

But habits are nothing to fear. At best they’re comforting, at worst, they’re droll. You can set something as simple as…

I will write for twenty minutes five times a day. Or I will sit my ass in my chair everyday at 5:30am and write for two hours straight. Or I will finish one poem a day. I will write three flash fictions every afternoon, or two ten-minute plays a day.

And then you sit the fuck down. And you write.

Its just that easy and its just that hard. But thats all it is.

And sometimes you will write shit. Sometimes you’re going to spend a whole day or afternoon or month on a project that just doesn’t work out. Sometimes it will be too raw or hurtful to share. Sometimes your POV will be atrocious and you’ll ellipses your blog to death…

But here’s your consolation prize to all of that:

Ahem…NO writing is bad. In every word, sentence, scrapped character or ridiculous poem, there is a certain fluency. A repetition. A practice. Bruce Lee didn’t fear the man who knew 10,000 different kicks, he feared the man who had practiced the same kick 10000 times. Because practice leads to progress…and closer to perfection (though who really wants that bullshit, it’s boring.)

Habit will sustain you, even when the muse has left to find some other crosswalk or doggy doo pile to traipse around. And with those designated times (habit) you will train your brain to settle in and do the work when its time. And that work creates fields. Rich and good fields, that you’re tilling and watering, and sprinkling shit on. And things grow there. Things you didn’t even know were laying dormant. Ideas, new directions, new thoughts, new characters, new combinations of words, or exciting adventures. The lushness of a garden well tended.

So here’s my advice. Don’t sit around waiting for some finicky tart in clown shoes to lead you to the next great idea. Sit your ass in the chair, open your notebook or laptop and start writing. Lead yourself to your next great idea, by doing the work. It’ll be a lot more enjoyable than you think.

The Beautiful Writers Workshop #9: Mental Floss

Posted on by sereichert

My daughter and I recently had an interesting discussion due to a class assignment on mental health concerning OCD, depression, and various other mental challenges. Trying to explain some of the behaviors and levels of severity made me think about my own quirks and habits that can be both positive and bordering on detrimental.

 

Creativity comes with certain mental “flourishes” that often translate into some pretty tortured souls out there, creating brilliant works of art, whether it be through paint, words, sculpture or music. In fact, I think society tends to think one almost must be tortured in some way to create.

I was listening to an interesting podcast with Florence, from Florence and The Machine, and along with her brilliant Scottish accent I was captivated by her story of alcoholism and how she used to think she had to drink to be creative. That she had to suffer, and to be spiraling down to really get to the good stuff of the soul and write music that mattered.

But then she sobered up and realized that it actually got easier to write without the heavy chained idea that suffering is the only way to make meaningful art.

It got me to thinking about how we can turn the chaos inside, into something beautiful by not fearing it. By not suppressing it or numbing it. By accepting the quirk that is you.

It’s like the person with OCD who uses their energies to post-it the hell out of an outline instead of writing “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,” five-hundred times.

It’s all about how we use our quirks.

This week’s workshop is about finding your quirk. I don’t just want the strange dance you do when you walk through a spiderweb kind of quirk. I want the chronic kind. The one that makes you desperate for a piece of wood to knock on when the slightest terrifying thought crosses your mind. Or that makes you have to park in the same spot at the grocery store, every time.

Write a bit about your quirk, then go a level deeper and see what comes up. Why do you think you do it? Do you remember when it started? What fear drives it? What desire does it fulfill or captivate inside of you?

How can you shift it to work towards your advantage in your life and in your writing?

If you can’t think of anything, can you use your quirk IN writing as a character trait and follow how it changes your character’s life, behavior, and relationships. Write a poem about it and get past the grizzle and into the bone, or find the ridiculous humor of it to laugh at.

Self-reflection isn’t always easy and we often discover things we didn’t know were hiding in there. You aren’t required to share, but allow yourself to hurdle over the fear and discomfort to know thyself a bit better. Turn your downward spirals into whirlwind of thought and brilliance. See you next week.

Here’s To The Old

Posted on by sereichert

Good afternoon ladies and gents.

I hope that you all find yourselves well and recuperating from a holiday season that seemed more like a mac truck hitting us than a season of joy and light. But now we’re past all of the wrapping paper, and crowds, and tortuous replaying of Wham’s “Last Christmas”, and on to bigger and brighter things. Right?

That’s what the New Year is all about? Starting over, becoming a better, new and improved version of you? Everyone say it in your heads… “New Year, New Me!”

Let the marketing campaign wash over you in brain-addling waves.

Well…I’m not here to crush your dreams, or dissuade you from improving yourself. I don’t want to take the proverbial wind from your sails in the early stages of the month, but I do want to remind you about last year…and the year before that, and the one before that as well…

You know what I’m talking about.

The years where you went in, guns blazing to become the ideal human, clean of diet, kind, financially responsible, organized, and positive to a fault.

Don’t look away, you know you promised those things.

I’m not here to judge or berate your failure…quite the opposite actually.

I’m here to let you know that the old you is a fucking amazing individual.

S/he isn’t perfect, sure. Who is? But think, for a moment, what you’ve survived this far. The battle wounds, the trials, the breaks and heart aches, the falls and doubts. The beautiful human failing that’s left you with regrets and scars.

Why in the hell would you want to change that warrior? That warrior has seen some horrible shit and lived to tell the story. That warrior’s roots run Earth-deep. Don’t discount the strength of who you already are, in this moment.

You want to lose a few pounds or not blow your paycheck at Target? Fine by me…great goals…but don’t look to change the beautiful beast you are. Look to change your perspective on your own imperfection.

Wanting to be healthier is good, but I’m asking you instead of drinking lemon-juice laced vinegar three meals a day, to try taking care of the warrior. Good food, (things that build us up and make us stronger, not limit us or feed on weird ideas of food guilt), exercise (to keep us strong, flexible, and energized), more sleep (put your goddamn phone down at bedtime, lovey). All of these things are important to keep that warrior ready for the next battles they’re sure to face in the coming year.

So stop telling lies to yourself, stop trying to fit your old, battle-scarred body into the cute little New Me box. Don’t be a New Me. Be the impeccable Old You…just aim for a slightly better version…one that eats a salad once in a while instead of a bag of Cheetos. One that goes to bed before ten instead of playing an extra hour of video games. One that forgoes the hard runs once or twice a week to pay homage to the beautiful abilities and flexibilities of the human body in other ways.

Hell, walk to the post box instead of driving.

You don’t have to pin a board of ideas on how to change yourself to be ‘better’. You don’t have to change you. Just tweak some of the things that aren’t good for you.

Good luck out there, you old battle axe. Go find a salad…and a bag of Cheetos (for later).