Wednesday, January 21, 2015

On being creative and cracking an egg

Here's an exercise to practice for breaking through resistance. Whenever I have done it, I have felt slightly heretical, as if I am doing something that I don't have permission for. It is from Eric Maisel's book Creativity for Life. All you need to do, before you start your creative work for the day -- your writing or painting or software designing -- is to crack an egg!

Just break it in a bowl, egg shells and all. Then, get up and go do your work.

Here's how Maisel describes this small act of power. "If you want to crack an egg because you are baking a cake, you whack it (carefully) on the side of your bowl, it breaks, and you drop the contents of the egg into the bowl full of flour. There's nothing simpler (though it takes a little skill to break the egg so that egg shells don't get into the batter). Your grandmother did it a million times; your young daughter can do it after a few minutes of false starts and small accidents. In the service of cooking, we are not reluctant to break that egg.

But if you are not baking a cake, an egg's shell feels remarkably formidable. There is something scary about cracking an egg for no good reason, something that makes us squeamish, something that feels like a violation of the egg. Trying to crack an egg for no good reason elicits the same sort of feeling that chalk scratching on a blackboard does. It is a physical reaction, rooted in some primitive fear and anxiety."

This feeling of resistance to actually begin is a part of the creative process, Maisel says. What can also be normal are the experiences where there is no hard shell to crack. This happens when we are really working on something. Everything becomes easy then, and we crack right through the beginnings of things.

But when we are stuck in an infinite loop -- feeling bad about not creating and yet not doing it -- cracking an egg can help us. "Experience the cracking of that egg as the cracking through of your resistance. Feel yourself exhale as you crack it, as if you had just survived something dangerous, then proceed directly to your creative work."    

What exactly is this resistance? What are we cracking through? Some of this resistance to beginning comes from our most primitive parts, where there is fear lurking in the shadows. Some of it is our rational mind telling us how difficult it will be to succeed. The dread we feel is these things and many other things besides.  

Try cracking an egg for a week and see what comes up for you. Does it feel like a subversive act? Does it make you feel powerful, as if you are naming resistance as a normal part of the creative process and using your will to crack through it? Do you feel like you don't have permission to act on your own behalf? Or do you, like me, sometimes feel you just can't waste an egg in the name of letting myself be more creative? If we can't even do this, how much permission do we then have to experiment, to be ourselves, to be an artiste?

Try cracking an egg, and observe how that makes you feel.  

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

A Quote from Jane Eyre

                  “I do not think, sir, you have any right to command me, merely because you are older than I, or because you have seen more of the world than I have; your claim to superiority depends on the use you have made of your time and experience.”  

Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre


                                                                                             
I read Jane Eyre as a teenager and couldn't quite pin-point all the things I loved about it. But loved it, I did. Maybe because, in part, it's a book about freedom -- about our right to feel our own feelings and to think our own thoughts. 

Friday, January 16, 2015

On Writing Better

As creative people, we struggle with doubts and misgivings on an almost daily basis. We are trying to do something that feels inherently risky to us, that feels like taking a leap of faith. At the same time, we are not really sure whether we'll ever be able to get beyond our current level of skill. Will we become as good as we imagine ourselves to be? Or will we fall short? That will surely hurt.

And so we cringe, trying to get out of this moment of not being quite there yet. Intellectually, we know that we need to keep working at it, honing our craft till our understanding seeps into our very bones. But right now, the vision of that glorious future seems far away, and we are wrestling with the mud, trying to pick diamonds.

But in this space with which we are uncomfortable, when we admit that we are not proficient yet, is also the challenge of learning how to become better. And that's half the fun of the journey. We can teach ourselves things we need to learn. We can figure things out for ourselves or find resources that can help us. Making ourselves, adding to who we are makes the struggle worthwhile.

How do we get better at writers? By asking questions, by practicing answers, by refining our process. Do we need to start reading aloud what we've written to figure out how our words will sound to someone else? Do we need to practice writing in scenes, instead of just narrating what's happened.

In Lee Gutkind's book on writing creative non-fiction, You Can't Make This Stuff Up, he talks about the process of editing. Since writing is mostly re-writing, this is important information to keep in mind. In the hundreds of writing workshops that Gutkind has been involved in, he has listened to people praise others by saying things like "That's a great image!" or "That's a wonderful metaphor!"

But Gutkind says that when we first hear something, we need to look at it as a whole. Feedback like this can be premature. "Editing takes place in several phases, but it almost never starts with the line of prose, the sentence, or word choice." So, we may write beautiful, lyrical sentences, but if the entire piece is not structured well, we won't be able to take the readers to a place where they can appreciate our particular talents.

"So consider the blueprint, the structure and shape of your piece of writing first. You'll see that the words, images, and ideas will change as you reshape the structure of your piece, so there's no point in addressing them early on in the revision process."

Only once we know the overall form of our piece, can we sculpt it with greater precision, and add more depth and specificity. Thinking in these broad strokes helps us clarify our process. Then, we won't get stuck in trying to perfect what we've written. Instead, we'll think about what's important to do first. This will help us move ahead.

What part of your writing process can you refine? What will help you become a better writer? 

Thursday, January 15, 2015

On writing loves

I have found another writing love! Thomas Moore's Care of the Soul has been on my reading list for a few months now. Yesterday, I finally began the book. I am only a few chapters in, and I already know that this is a book I will love.

I woke up today feeling the kind of expansive, comforting feeling that comes only when you catch a glimpse of the bigger picture and things start to make sense. 

There are so many things that Moore talks about with such great understanding.

One thing that he talks about is our tendency to move between two extremes. He tells the story of a client of his comes to him and tells him that she wants to be more independent. She thinks her dependence is creating problems in her relationships, and becoming independent will solve them.

Moore says that this is not necessarily so. The soul has many aspects, and cutting off one of them in service of the other wouldn't solve the issue. She would only be facing it again from the other side. He says, "The fact that her dependency is making itself felt doesn't mean it should be bludgeoned or surgically removed; it may be asserting itself because it needs attention. Her heroic championing of independence might be a way of avoiding and repressing the strong need of something in her to be dependent."

He tries framing her need differently, in words that don't reek of the wimpiness that seems to bother her. He asks her, "Don't you want to be attached to people, learn from them, get close, rely on friendship, get advice from someone you respect, be part of a community where people need each other, find intimacy with someone that is so delicious you can't live without it?"

Is that dependence, she questions back. Yes, he says, that's what it sounds like to him. And like everything else, there's no way to have the good without also having to deal with its shadows. The good that comes from healthy dependence is accompanied by its shadows - its neediness, inferiority, its loss of control.

Moore says that he had the feeling that his client was avoiding intimacy and friendship by "focusing these qualities into a caricature of excessive dependency." By getting caught in this caricature, she was failing to understand the deeper issues involved. Like her, we might be scared of being deeply involved with the people in our lives and the life being lived around us.

What we need to do, though, is to "go with the symptoms" instead of against them. What this woman needed was to find ways to be dependent that felt fulfilling to her and that were not so extreme that they split off dependence off from independence. She needed to value healthy dependence and not idolize a quality she perceived as being the panacea for what was ailing her.

Our soul is manifested in many aspects. In this client, Moore says, the dependent face of the soul needed to be acknowledged and honored. Cutting off her needs to be dependent was actually a move against her inner life, against her soul.

This is something for all of us to grapple with. When I look inside, I can see how easily polarized I become, how I take up position on one extreme. I love the guidance that Moore offers, as he asks us to listen to the different needs within us and honor all these needs, instead of getting shut off in a corner. This is something I will attempt to do more of this year, to flow more instead of stagnating on one side.   

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

How hunger and lack of sleep are related.

Yesterday, I talked about the mind-body link that Deepak Chopra discusses in his book, What are you hungry for? Changing our relationship with food goes beyond making informed nutritional choices. We might have to go deeper and address issues like emotional hunger or the way our lifestyle hampers us and contributes to overeating.

Here's what Deepak Chopra says about his own struggle with weight: "Because everything is connected, something like getting a good night's sleep was part of my new way of eating. Lack of sleep throws off the balance between two hormones (leptin and ghrelin) responsible for making you feel hungry and full. People who don't sleep well overeat easily when their body stops sending the right hormonal messages. Belly fat disturbs the same hormones. And what you end up with is a self-perpetuating cycle that is not only unhealthy but potentially dangerous."

As I work to change my own relationship with food, deconstructing why and when I overeat has become more and more important. Since lack of sleep is an issue for many people, becoming aware that it could be contributing to overeating can provide that nudge to make the change and actually get more sleep.

Awareness is the key to making any change. How is your lifestyle affecting the way you eat?

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

What's your hunger telling you?

Are you someone who wants to change their relationship with food? Do you suspect that there is more going on when you overeat than simply making bad food choices? Are you looking for a solution that is whole instead of fragmented, holistic instead of linear?

Deepak Chopra's book What are you hungry for? offers valuable insights and suggestions that can help us become more aware of how we relate to food and why we might be misusing it. Among other things, Chopra talks about how food can become a substitute for other things that we might be looking for.

Why does this happen? Why do we turn to food for comfort and security instead of keeping it in its proper place.

The answer, Chopra says, lies in the fact that we, human beings, are complex organisms. "In its natural state, the brain controls hunger automatically. When your blood sugar falls below a certain level, messages are sent to an almond-sized region of the brain known as the hypothalamus, which is responsible for regulating hunger. When it receives messages of decreased blood sugar, your hypothalamus secretes hormones to make you feel hungry, and when you've eaten enough, the hormones reverse, making you no longer hungry. This feedback loop between blood and brain operates on its own, as it has for millions of years. Any animal with a spinal cord (vertebrate) has a hypothalamus, which makes sense, because hunger is so basic." 

But, what makes people different is that in us, pure physical hunger gets interfered with easily. For example, we might be distracted and forget to eat. We might be extremely stressed out, which makes us ravenously hungry. We are always in search for what will satisfy us.


Although this might feel like self-destructive behavior when it comes to eating, it is, in fact, a normal human drive to seek fulfillment. What we need to understand is how this process works physiologically, how we start substituting food for other things we need.

Chopra says that we need to look beyond the simple circuitry that controls our basic hunger drive through the hypothalamus. We need to be aware that our brains are more complex than that, that we have the capacity to override simple signals from our body.

He says: "Imagine that three telephone conversations converge at one junction, which in reality is the meeting of three basic regions of the brain. Each region has something to tell you; each is sending neural messages to you at once. Each is seeking a different kind of satisfaction. The lower brain is satisfied when you feel good physically. The limbic system is satisfied when you feel good emotionally. The higher brain is satisfied when you are making good decisions for yourself.

The miracle of the human brain is that all three lines can merge and cooperate. The lower brain can send the message "I'm hungry," which the emotional brain accepts, because "Eating puts me in a good mood," so the higher brain can say, "Let's stop for a meal." This balancing act is natural, and it works to the benefit of all three regions of the brain. None of them must force its message through, trying to get heard by pushing the others out of the way. Your brain is structured to find happiness at every level."

So, unlike a baby who operates almost exclusively with basic instincts from the lower brain, and eats when he is hungry or sleeps when he is tired, in an adult, the interaction amongst different parts of the brain becomes more complex as the limbic system and the higher brain also have their individual pieces to communicate. "Their version of happiness is far more complex" than simply meeting biological needs.

So what does this mean for us? If we are aware of how our brains and different motivations work, we can also see that our bodies are not turning against us. There is an unsatisfied need in some other part of our life that is reflected in the way that we are eating, or rather, overeating.

Instead of solving the problem only from a nutritional standpoint by cutting calories, we can look beyond the surface to see the underlying web of what's driving us. Is our natural hunger getting converted into a ravenous emotional hunger? Which of our needs are we not taking care of? 

We can start the process of change by asking ourselves what is it that would truly satisfy us.
Maybe it is something that brings us joy like music, maybe it is creating a more meaningful life. Maybe it is a need for connection.
Whatever need lies beneath our hunger, fulfilling that would help us approach our hunger from a more holistic perspective that recognizes that we are complex and multi-layered.
What are you hungry for? And what will satisfy your hunger?  

Friday, January 9, 2015

A New Writing Year

It's the start of another wonderful new year - an empty blank canvas that is both exciting and a little frightening. Will we able to pluck all the ideas that are ripening in our heads before they fall and go to dust? Will we be able to have the courage to live our lives this year as ourselves? Will we actually do what we are meant to do or will we get off-track at some point?


And if we do, how will we pick ourselves up?

Like you, I don't know the answers to these questions.

When I first started writing and blogging, I thought I needed to know all the answers, that I needed to come to some conclusion almost every week in my writing for this blog to make any sense.

But as I've continued on my journey, I have found that what I need to do is stay with the complicated questions, stay with them and keep asking till I am ready to accept the answers and live their sometimes difficult truths.

If your wish for this year is to start on your creative journey, then I hope that you don't get fooled into thinking that you need to know all the answers to begin. You don't.

We just want to walk behind you as you go forth bravely into the darkness. We know it takes courage to disregard the clanging voices both inside and outside. We are waiting for you to give us a piece of the puzzle that we hold in our hands. We need your understanding so we can make sense of the bigger picture.

What you are doing is important.

In this new writing year, I hope both you and I can follow our curiosity into the nooks and crannies, have the courage to meander as well as the courage to experiment. I hope both of us stop looking at other people and how they do things, and instead look inside and find our own, unique ways.

I hope, this year, we find our rhythms and dance our own dance.

I hope this process is both fun and interesting and challenging and expansive.

Let this be the year when you walk on the artiste's path, and find that everything is just as you wished it would be.

Happy New Year !