HOW SELF COMPASSION IMPROVES OUR ART

Self compassion is the practice of turning the warmth and light of our compassion towards ourselves. But as lovely as that sounds, many of us don’t practice this in our daily lives, and as a result when we attempt to make our art we front load and infuse our practice with critical thoughts and expectations. 

The weight of this type of self-criticism can be utterly soul crushing, as we are disregarding our basic human needs in these moments. 

Self-compassion is the act of recognizing and honouring this aspect of our common humanity – we all suffer and we all want to feel seen and supported in our suffering. 

Art simply can’t be made when we’re disconnected from ourselves in this way. We may attempt to make our work through disciplined practice and self-imposed deadlines, but there will be so much struggle in the process that the work will reflect that struggle rather than the essence of ourselves that we’re truly after. 

Without self-compassion guiding the way, we react as if something has gone terribly wrong when we make mistakes or fail. We feel deflated and as if this shouldn't be happening to us. Frustration, disappointment, and isolation become our dominant feelings.

 When we can offer ourselves self-compassion, we are able to meet failure much differently. It's not met with “poor me,” it's met with “well, everyone fails.” It just becomes natural and normal, as we simply accept the truth that everyone struggles. This is what it means to be human, and that understanding radically alters how we relate to failure and difficulty in life and in our art practice. 

In order to have self-compassion, we have to be willing to turn toward, and acknowledge our suffering. Typically, we don't want to do that. We’d rather avoid it at all costs, not think about it, and go straight into problem-solving our way out of it. As much as suffering is a part of our humanness, so is our need to protect ourselves.

While art-making presents us with innumerable problems to be solved, the creative process requires us to explore, experiment, and even fail as we attempt to make our work stronger and more akin to our vision for it. 

Meeting our art-practice, and ourselves, with self-criticism and weighty pressures only leads us away from what we truly desire. By beginning to meet our perfectly imperfect selves with compassion and curiosity we flip the script and meet our most basic human need. From there we have a solid foundation to work from – no matter the outcome. 

• How do you typically meet moments of struggle, confusion, and failure? 

• If you’re being truly honest, how do you typically treat yourself? What do you say to yourself when you make a mistake or miss meeting an obligation?

• When you listen to the words you say to yourself, how do those words make you feel?

• How might you change the way you speak to yourself?

• What would you have to tell yourself in order for you to meet yourself with kindness and compassion? 

This short version blog post is a part of my Mindset Moment series, an accompanying edition to my bi-monthly blog post. My intention for these Mindset Moments is to speak to some of the common challenges artists face with their creative work, and how a mindset shift can make a difference.

They are short reads, with a suggestion or writing prompt that you can work with…as well as an invitation to join in the conversation, sharing your experience and insights.

You can join the conversation by leaving a comment under this blog post, or on my social media posts. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me, wherever you find me.

Please subscribe to my mailing list if you’d like to receive these posts, along with my longer bi-montly blog post and newsletter.

CORE STRENGTH

What do we mean when we say we want to feel more confident? This is an important question to explore for ourselves because I think we often have an idealized idea of what confidence is. We view it as something we have to attain, or that others have and we don’t, or something unattainable for us simply because we experience fear. 

I believe that everyone feels some level of fear and doubt as they push out of their comfort zone. It is quite normal and expected. I was introduced to this idea through the book by Gay Hendricks The Big Leap: Conquer Your Hidden Fear and Take Life to the Next Level. In the book he shares the concept that we naturally have an “upper limit problem.” Hendricks tells us that even the most confident people, when faced with a growth opportunity that moves them out of their zone of competence, or excellence, will self-sabotage. Unconscious fears activate the inner critic and give it an opportunity to limit our potential. 

So what is confidence and how can we feel a connection to it for ourselves? I like to think of it as “core strength.” Just like we develop and strengthen our core to support our bodies as they move, we can build internal core strength as well. This foundational, core strength is rooted in self-acceptance and self-trust. That is where true confidence comes from. And from this place we can expand outwards with our desires for ourselves and our art-making. 

When we have a strong inner core, rejection and judgement simply has no place to land. The relationship we have with ourselves will provide us with stability and sustenance, if we simply choose to accept ourselves fully.

This means accepting the shadows, the failings, the brokenness, as well as embracing and honouring our light, our power, and our numerous and wondrous gifts. It means feeding our light more than our darkness, but also leaning in and accepting the natural darkness that all humans have within us. I shared a blog post on this topic called ‘Broken Beauty’ which will offer another way to view and work with this concept.  

Consider the inner critic, the cast of judges that are often moving in and out of your inner space, as companions to be understood, not rejected. Use your discernment and find guidance for yourself through their potential offerings. 

The truth is there is likely a team of inner judges, rather than just one. Some of them are destructive and shut down your creative flow, and some are actually useful as they draw our attention to what needs improving. Using our discernment, we can quiet the noisy complainers and invite dialogue with our inner teachers – asking, how can I learn from you? What are you trying to show me or have me understand?

Perhaps you can even take some time to define the various members of your inner critic team – giving each one of them an identity and a rating of helpfulness. You can then begin to work with them and embody each version of your inner critic, or judges. You can have dialogues between them, and with yourself, and even switch places with them to help you more fully understand what they are bringing to your inner space and dialogue. 

Again, this isn’t about rejecting the inner critic or judges, but rather integrating them and becoming attuned to their roles. This also helps to build that core strength that is needed for confidence and forward movement….and trust. 

One of the things that most artists long for is a direction with their work, a purpose, and a focus that feels authentic.

As we develop in our art-making there is a period of time where we are taking in a great deal – learning, growing and skill building. This is a time when we spend a lot of time looking outside ourselves for inspiration, guidance and ideas about who we are as artists. We take courses, study other artist’s work, maybe even receive mentorship from an artist and learn techniques through consistent practice.

It’s rare that artists know from the get go who they are and the work they are meant to make. It’s discovered through the process of making the work, through engagement. We try things on for size, we move here, go there, and experiment with this and that. All the while receiving valuable information that is guiding us closer and closer to our deepest, most personal work. 

It’s at this time, when we would be considered an emerging artist, that we most need the mindset skills so that we can make the most of this expansive period of growth and learning. Rather than defining ourselves too soon, we trust that we’re on the path to that answer and we remain ever curious, committed and aware. 

Eventually, we start to narrow our focus and dig deeper into areas of interest. This is often described by my mentor, Bill Porteous, as the “research and development” stage of an artist’s evolution, where they are spending longer periods of time dedicated to one area of investigation in their work – seeing what might come of that deeper dive into that area of focus. Again, the mindset skills help us stay committed to the excavations and structure building that we’re doing. We hold fast to ourselves as the uncertainty rises and we confront the possibility that the time we have invested isn't, just yet, the area that we are wanting to commit to. But, all of it is valuable and worthy of our time, and our mindset allows us to remain confident that we’re following the right path, and that we will arrive at a position with our work.

This arriving at a position is what most artists truly long for – to know with conviction what their work is about and what it means for them. Arriving here takes time and commitment and it requires every ounce of our mindset skills to get us there. We trust, we work, we evaluate, we nurture, and we reflect. We have an established practice that we know intimately and we simply show up and begin. We simply do the work that we know we were meant to do. There may still be questions about the work, but there are no longer any questions about why we’re making our art. That is a certainty and is now fully integrated into our lives and routines. 

And, it is not a limited place, but a place of infinite potential. From this place you make new work from your own work, using yourself as a source of inspiration and development. Building on what has come before. You are now able to keep space for yourself, working without feedback or influence. You’re self-generating and engaged in your own adventure of discovery as you ask, what else is possible here?

This quote I came across seems to speak to this place with our work:

“A person entranced by wonder is pulled out of the normal voice-in-your-head self-absorption and awed by something greater than oneself. There’s a feeling of radical openness, curiosity and reverence. There’s an instant freshness of perception, a desire to approach and affiliate.”

I think this describes that place we can occupy when we’re making our work for the sake of making the art itself – for the wondrous experience that it is. When the inner voices no longer concern us and we simply make our work to experience the reverence of the creative process. We are awed by the connection, and all that matters is that connection – not “is this good enough?” or “am I good enough?”

We have a kind of confidence that is sustainable simply because it is sourced from within and joins with something greater than ourselves. This is truly “self” confidence.

CREATIVITY AND PLAY

Play is where pure freedom exists and new ideas are born – there are no rules and a lightness infuses all that we do. From this place we discover new things, and invite in possibilities that we didn’t know existed for us. 

There are no mistakes to be made and the pressure is off because we are just messing about. Everything is valuable and allowed. We can take big risks, be completely wild and surprise ourselves in the process. And, it’s fun!

For many of us we experienced this type of freedom when we played as children. But at some point, we forget about the value of play and the potential it has in generating creative energy and ideas. 

As artists we have a particularly unique relationship to creative play, and we engage with it for several reasons. Often play is a helpful tool to warm ourselves up after a break from our creative work, or before beginning our more formal studio work. For some artists, play is a part of their starting rituals, helping them get in the zone and shaking off some of the daily routines that they’ve had to turn their focus towards.

But there is another, really valuable, reason we need to play as artists…and it is rooted in a more conscious approach to play – play that has a purpose, while remaining uninhibited. Conscious play is a way to innovate and discover what else is possible for us. It’s a very different approach to playing for the pure joy of expressing. It’s more intentional and focused…but only in that we’re looking to discover something through the act of play.

We may begin by setting out some ideas of what we want to play with, and then let things unfold. Afterwards we ask ourselves what we discovered and how might that be useful in our art-making. 

These intentional, playful periods unlock parts of ourselves that may have become dormant, stuck or rigid – locked into habitual ways of working. Play loosens us up. It’s an important part of the creative process – and assists us in the further development of our work. 

• How could you utilize play to help your creative work?

• What would help you to feel more able to engage with play? What might you need to let go of? What attitude might help you?

• If you were to adopt the belief that play was integral to the development of your work, how might your relationship to play change?

• Are there specific areas of your art-making that could benefit from conscious play?

This short version blog post is a part of my Mindset Moment series, an accompanying edition to my bi-monthly blog post. My intention for these Mindset Moments is to speak to some of the common challenges artists face with their creative work, and how a mindset shift can make a difference.

They are short reads, with a suggestion or writing prompt that you can work with…as well as an invitation to join in the conversation, sharing your experience and insights.

You can join the conversation by leaving a comment under this blog post, or on my social media posts. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me, wherever you find me.

Please subscribe to my mailing list if you’d like to receive these posts, along with my longer bi-montly blog post and newsletter.

DRIVERS AND LIMITERS

Artists are often navigating the paradoxical aspects of art-making. It’s one of the many inherent characteristics of the creative process that keeps us engaged and challenged, sometimes in equal measure. 

For instance, we know the benefits of making a cohesive and consistent body of work, as well as working with a set of intentions to help guide us in that process. And we can simultaneously feel the impetus to move somewhere else with our work. We may be compelled to expand into new territory, take bigger risks, and follow a path that may be leading us away from where we have been. These are the drivers that propel our work forward, and we need to pay attention to them, even as they unsettle us.

At times when we feel ready to evolve in our work – taking that step into the unknown once more – the question we need to hold is, how can we allow ourselves to expand into new territory while staying connected to our voice as an artist? 

There is also an important distinction to understand about this process of evolution in art-making. It is invaluable to build consistency in our artistic practice through coming to know who we are as an artist, and to make meaningful work. In order to do this we have to stay the course, even when it is uncomfortable, to develop our creative language, learn to work with intentions, and build a strong body of work that reflects our voice and offers us a solid working structure. We need to commit, focus, and recognize the inherent value of this approach to our creative work.

What I mean by this is, when you have been focused on your development for a period of time – perhaps you’ve even had some measure of success for yourself – you may still feel restless and compelled to move elsewhere in your work. This restlessness can occur despite the fact that others recognize your work, you’ve made sales, had opportunities to show, and have a following. 

This can be a highly unsettling time for artists. If we’re not prepared to meet it well, as we need to do with all the paradoxical aspects of the creative process, we’ll find ourselves in a great deal of confusion and struggle. 

At these times we need to be Jedi Masters of the mind,  separating out what is a “driver” in our art practice and what is a “limiter.” 

Drivers are the nudges that move us forward and ask us what else is possible. They are the feeling that change is needed in order to feel alive in the work once more. But, they are anchored in our vision and passion, not in our fear and avoidance – those are limiters. 

Drivers expand and open us. Limiters contract and close us. Drivers are curious and adventurous. Limiters are fearful and withdraw us from forward movement or risk taking.

So a good litmus test when you notice an unsettledness arriving, or a feeling of wanting to move elsewhere in your work, is to lean into that feeling and ask yourself, “Is this a driving force or a limiting thought or feeling?”

Perhaps you’re at an impasse in your painting process, and unsure of where to go next. A driving thought in this instance might sound like, “It feels like something more is needed here, I wonder what that is?” or “ I like where this is going, but I feel it needs a breath of fresh air, something unexpected or stimulating. How could I approach this?” You can hear the invitation here, the curious language, along with the restlessness and awareness of something new wanting to arrive in the work.

In this same case, a limiting thought or feeling would sound more like, “This feels wrong. I can’t figure it out and I should just give up. It’s never going to be any good, even if I do find my way out of this mess.” Or it might even sound more compassionate towards your challenge, but still suggestive of your limits. “You’ve been working on this piece for over an hour now, it’s such a mess. Maybe you need to shift gears and go do something else.”

Here you can see that we are limiting ourselves by not staying engaged. Even if the work is a struggle and we need a break, taking a break that keeps us curious about what has arrived and what might be possible is moving us forward. Maybe we do some reflective writing about the work, make some sketches of the piece, make some collage paper to try on the work for compositional possibilities. And if we do fully take a break, we stay engaged with the work, perhaps by walking and thinking about it, letting it percolate in our mind. We don’t want to engage with stimulation and distract ourselves, because that is avoidance of the work itself. It will not help us to find the answers we want, just muddy the waters. So we need to be sensitive to this and attend to ourselves well. 

Let's take a closer look at how drivers and limiters differ:

Drivers feel like a knowing or a sensing that there is more available to you – that you’re making the work, but the work wants more from YOU. 

Drivers often arrive with a feeling of restlessness. We want to move, but we don’t know where yet. The idea of moving is fuel for us, but we may not yet be burning that fuel. We’re often moving very slowly and methodically, in our work. 

Drivers are igniters and lead us towards risk taking. We feel a sense of expansion and excitement, often paired with a bit of confusion about what this means for our work. 

Drivers speak to us in opportunity language, and open-ended questions like “what if?” or “how could I?” We feel a sense of excitement around the possibility of where we might go in the work, and that can be paired with a sense of uncertainty as well. 

Limiters can feel like drivers, except they arrive as a result of attempting to manage your struggle in the work. They make you feel like a change would be a relief from that struggle. Let’s launch a diversion and get outta here!

Limiters are thoughts that arrive as you’re working that are not in support of your growth, but want you to play it safe. They don’t support you in staying in the deeper work and risking, but suggest that it will be easier over there, doing something different. 

Limiters are feelings of restriction and unwillingness to let go. There is a sense of grasping and holding. There may be a “what if?” question roaming around inside you, but it’s often accompanied by a belief that something bad will be the outcome. “What if I move in this direction and get completely lost in my work and waste my time?” 

Limiters are avoidance thoughts, fear based thoughts, and thoughts that defeat your efforts to make work – any work. They often feel like dissatisfaction with what you’re making, but without any real basis for that judgement. For instance, a work is still forming, in its early stages and the limiting thought arrives, “this isn’t any good.” Or, “what am I doing?” both delivered with a judgy tone. 

That single phrase, “What am I doing?” can be a driver when spoken with curiosity and a willingness to unpack the process in reflection, or be a limiter when spoken with disdain and self-judgement. 

I love this quote from Rick Rubin’s book, ‘The Creative Act’:

Living life as an artist is a practice. You are either engaging in the practice or you’re not. It makes no sense to say you’re not good at it. It’s like saying, “I’m not good at being a monk.” You are either living as a monk or you’re not. We tend to think of the artist’s work as the output. The real work of the artist is a way of being in the world.

How are you being in YOUR world? Is the language you use in response to something you are creating generative or destructive? The real work of an artist is to stay in the work in ways that allow for the creative process to unfold naturally and sustainably. 

As we move through all the various layers and aspects of being a working artist, we need to know ourselves well, and recognize the ways in which we are meeting any stage of our development, and how to support that stage well. 

The emerging stage for an artist has very different needs for support than an artist that has attained a creative position with their work, or is deep in the research and development stage.

Evolution in our creative work also looks different in these stages. The emerging artist is not committing to anything but their learning, and are often engaged with many areas of exploration and instruction. They are taking in a great deal of information and evolution here looks like learning their craft and finding out who they are as an artist – discovering their voice. They explore anything and everything, and typically don’t decide who they are as an artist until they have given enough time to this very important stage. 

In the latter stages of an artist's development, they may choose to use evolution as a building block to expand the work further and challenge themselves. Most of the heavy technical learning has been done and the questions are very different, much more about the form of expression and the way the work is communicating something. These latter stages are also fraught with complications when it comes to evolving, simply because so much ground has been won already and their voice is established. 

This is an excerpt from my recent writing on my own process of pushing my work elsewhere:

What often gets in the way of this evolutionary process in art-making is our attachment to where we have been, and the certainty that offers us. 

Art-making is inherently challenging by its very nature. It strips away the conventional approaches that we typically use in our day to day lives and asks us to trust the unknown, to go forward when we don’t know where we’re going, or if there will be anything of value when we get there. So, we hesitate and we convince ourselves that we’re better served to stay put…after all, it’s working for us. We’re making our art and we have an approach that we know works…why mess with that? 

At this point the inner struggle between staying and moving can become a drain on us, simply because we’re choosing security instead of the creative adventure. We want the results and the certainty of acceptance for the work – our own and others’. But as the dissatisfaction grows we lose connection with the very essence of why we make art in the first place. We have moved from creators to producers. We produce what we know we can do, and we have stopped evolving. 

This speaks to the push-pull of this time and why it can be so confusing to sort out for ourselves. But, we need to place our focus on the value of the creative process itself, and begin again with “seed planting” as author Rick Rubin suggests in his book ‘The Creative Act.’ 

Throughout our time as a working artist, ideas come and go. Some get expressed and develop into finished work and others go dormant – set aside as we hold fast to our intentions and narrow our focus. This time of evolution in our work is a rich period of germinating dormant seeds. We allow them to sprout, watering them and exploring their potential to see what they could become. And, whatever happens as a result, the value is in what we discover and where that takes us, not in a finished outcome.

We need to think less about results and producing, and more about risking, exploring, and drawing from our efforts, sign posts and roadmaps to where our journey is heading. Following the drivers will get us there.

Prefer to listen? Click on the link below to listen to and/or download the audio version of this Blog post.

EMBRACING CHANGE AND GROWTH

There is a great challenge that comes with growth, change and evolving - the dance we take with the unknown. And this dance makes us extraordinarily uncomfortable, as humans and artists. It taps into a very primitive place in our brains that, in the past, helped us to remain safe in our world.

When we are on a path of change, we know we want something different for ourselves, and most of the time we are not even clear on what that is. But we sense it and know it’s absolutely necessary. So we begin, moving forward to an unknown destination – trusting as we go. It’s a true leap of faith.

Art-making is so very much about this process of trusting the unknown and convincing ourselves to stay in the process as we move forward. While we would prefer a roadmap to show us the way, there simply isn’t one. This is a solo operation, a personal tract we’re on, and one that is asking us to follow our intuition.

When we practice being comfortable with not knowing, and remaining with the discomfort that can generate for us, we are developing a powerful skill-set that will serve us in our lives and in our art-making. It requires both trust and surrendering, allowing for the paradoxical aspects of art-making to be embraced.

We have to trust the process we’re in, lean into that discomfort and the fear of what we might discover, and stay very present for what shows up. We meet whatever arrives with curiosity and willingness, trusting that not knowing how it fits, what it means, is okay – in fact it’s even essential to our progress.

At these times our self-compassion aids us greatly. When we’re frustrated with ourselves we close off and stop learning. We may feel like we should be “there” sooner, that we are somehow flawed and others know what they’re doing and we don’t. We wonder if it will be worth the effort we’re putting in. What if we don’t discover anything worthwhile on the other side of this process we’re engaged with?

All of these thoughts, natural as they are, hamper our progress of change, and we need to be mindful of this transitional space we’re in. Can we think differently about this process we’re in? Can we hold it as a great adventure with endless possibilities for us?

If we can give ourselves permission to just be where we are in the process of change, we release the resistance to that change, and things begin to flow for us. It can be as simple as turning your gaze towards the adventure you’re on. It may feel hard at times to offer yourself this, but artists are built to do the hard things.

If you’re in a process of change or growth right now, what could you offer to yourself that would feel helpful? What kind of things can you tell yourself that will encourage and support you, and allow you to stay the course? Where else in your life might you be comfortable with discomfort? What helps you to let go and trust the process?

This short version blog post is a part of my Mindset Moment series, an accompanying edition to my bi-monthly blog post. My intention for these Mindset Moments is to speak to some of the common challenges artists face with their creative work, and how a mindset shift can make a difference.

They are short reads, with a suggestion or writing prompt that you can work with…as well as an invitation to join in the conversation, sharing your experience and insights.

You can join the conversation by leaving a comment under this blog post, or on my social media posts. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me, wherever you find me.

Please subscribe to my mailing list if you’d like to receive these posts, along with my longer bi-montly blog post and newsletter.

WHO ARE WE TRYING TO PLEASE?

A few weeks ago I came across a quote from @the.holistic.psychologist on Instagram that caused me to pause and really think about who we are trying to please as artists, and why. The quote shone a light on a truth about “people pleasing,” which is something I have been working on my whole life…trying to understand what is at play and how to not let it direct my choices and actions, especially as an artist.

While I have written about this before in a previous blog post from 2021, ‘Who Are We Creating For,’ there was something about this quote that asked me to revisit this. 

“People pleasers are not trying to please other people.
They are trying to avoid their own feelings of shame when they disappoint someone. 
Every people pleaser has one core goal: to control how another person views them.”

My first response in reading this quote was just how much people pleasing was actually a deeper need for self-preservation and acceptance. I recognized myself in it. I recognized the shame I can feel when I have to say no to someone, set a boundary, or choose my needs over another’s. 

People pleasing started early for me. As a painfully shy child, it was the safest way to not get hurt. I wanted everyone to like me, to never have a conflict, and to make others happy…many times at my own expense. But on some level it worked for me…so I continued to focus on pleasing others.

The flip side of this, and perhaps the confusing part as well, is that I am a kind and generous person…and I will always do my best to help when and where I can. I am proud of that aspect of my personality and would never want to change that about myself.

And I have, at times, said yes when I really needed to say no. I have made unhealthy choices for myself out of the need to feel loved and to avoid the shame of others' judgments about my need to be myself and honour my truth. I have self-abandoned more than I can bear to think about.

Years of counseling and personal work led me out of the stickiest part of this way of being, to a healthier place…thank goodness. I am forever grateful for therapy and the lessons that life brought me that allowed me to heal and trust myself more fully.

Then came art. I came to art-making later in life, after abandoning it as a self-indulgent and unreasonable choice, and one that no one saw as having true value. My early people pleaser could not forge a path in art-making simply because it meant going against the grain and societal conventions, bucking others’ expectations of me, and truly standing in what I wanted. 

But even as I finally found the fortitude to forge that path, even attending a 3 year fine arts program and dedicating my life to art full time, I was hampered by the residual “people pleaser” within me…I just didn’t know that was what it was. It seemed to be operating in an unexpected way – a way that was a bit covert. 

All I knew was that as I was attempting to make my art, I was thinking much too much about what others wanted, liked, approved of, rather than what I wanted or liked. Or if I felt compelled in a direction with my work, I doubted its validity and imagined all the voices that might challenge my conviction about that choice. This made making my work arduous and painful at times. Resistance to getting to the work grew as my anxiety did, causing an inner conflict between my vision for my work and my ability to persevere the rigor that art-making was demanding of me.

Art-making is inherently challenging. It asks us to truly be present, to be ourselves, and to create from that core of self-knowing. If we’re constantly thinking about others when we make our creative work, we’ve lost the connection to ourselves in the work – which is essential for authentic expression. We can become creatively blocked, unable to finish work, or even begin.

All artists want to make work that feels connected and alive with energy – work that reflects something as unique as they are. They want to be able to take risks and make work that they can feel proud of, simply because it is uncompromised by self-censoring. It’s real, truthful, and connected…and it has intrinsic value in its bravery. 

This desire requires us to show-up, not just physically, but holistically. We need to show-up for ourselves as much as the work. We need to set aside the concerns we may have for others – friends, family, collectors, gallerists, and social media likes – to be completely engaged in the creative process. 

When we can be this open to ourselves, and trust in our own worth and validity, we have the greatest potential to manifest the work we aspire to make. But, we have to please ourselves first…and, sometimes for some artists, pleasing only ourselves. Van Gough never stopped making his paintings because they were unconventional for the time, and not collected. He understood the connection he had and valued that beyond anything else and his master works live on as a result. So many artists like him have laid the groundwork for us to do the same. 

People pleasing doesn’t support our art-making, and if we can be really honest with ourselves, we know who we’re trying to please…and it’s not us. How would it be to shed that baggage and fully step into yourself? What freedom might exist there? 

Yes, it will likely generate some level of anxiety…but art-making generally does. We just need to have a few tools to manage that anxiety and carry on. Mindfulness practices, breath work, reflective writing, healthy self-talk and reframing negative thoughts and biases all help us to get there. I’m grateful I found them for myself, and can now share them with anyone who is also struggling with the burden of people pleasing.

Shame is one of the most burdensome emotions to carry. Its message to us is that we are flawed in some way. A tremendous resource for understanding shame's impact and how to work with it is Brené Brown. She is a writer, researcher and speaker, and you can find her work HERE.

The connection between people pleasing and shame that The Holistic Psychologist was making in her quote, can help us to understand why it is essential for us to stop thinking about pleasing others with our creative work and choose to be the artists that we are. Will you join me?

Prefer to listen? Click on the link below to listen to and/or download the audio version of this Blog post.

SELF SUPPORT

All too often we tend to prioritize things in life that don't necessarily support our creative energy. So we have to organize our day and our week so that creative time is available to us.

Everybody has their own energy cycle, their own creative cycle and you're going to want to understand yours, so that you can block out the time in your day where you have the most energy for your art-making.

For some, that might be first thing in the morning before they get engaged with all of the other activities of their day, and taking advantage of “sleep thinking” – when our brains are still connected to drifting and dreaming, less encumbered with the noise our days can invite in. Others may find that the afternoon or evening is the best time for them to engage with their creative work.

If you’re not sure what works best for you, set up some scheduled studio sessions at the various times available to you throughout your day and take note of your energy and what resulted from your time in the studio. Did one time seem to offer you more spaciousness and productivity than another?

Regardless of what time of the day you begin your studio practice, it can be really helpful to take a few moments before beginning your creative work to check in with yourself and lay the ground for a transition into this working space. Is there anything you need to let go of to be truly present for the work? If so, what would help you to do that? 

If you’re noticing it can be difficult to shift from one type of activity to another – say from admin work to your creative work – then consider designing a simple set of steps that you can take upon entering the studio that will help your mind shift gears. A few minutes of journal writing, or mediation, often reconnects us to ourselves and the mindset we want for making our art. 

It is the attention to these kinds of details around your creative practice that will really help you to know what actions to put in place that will allow you to easily flow into your art-making and be as productive as you can be when you're there.

What do you know about your creative cycles and energy? Is there a preferred time of day for you to make your creative work? Do you have strategies and techniques to clear and settle the inner space required for art-making?


This short version blog post is a part of my Mindset Moment series, an accompanying edition to my bi-monthly blog post. My intention for these Mindset Moments is to speak to some of the common challenges artists face with their creative work, and how a mindset shift can make a difference.

They are short reads, with a suggestion or writing prompt that you can work with…as well as an invitation to join in the conversation, sharing your experience and insights.

You can join the conversation by leaving a comment under this blog post, or on my social media posts. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me, wherever you find me.

Please subscribe to my mailing list if you’d like to receive these posts, along with my longer bi-montly blog post and newsletter.

THE FREEDOM TO FAIL

Can you imagine what it might feel like to have full permission, complete freedom, to fail? What might it feel like to be able to approach something new with the awareness that failure is just a normal part of learning, and means that you're pushing into new territory, gathering helpful information as you do? What would it be like to meet our creative work, our problems, and our wild ideas with an attitude of full-on curiosity…expecting failure as a natural matter of course, not something to avoid at all costs? How might this acceptance of failure change your approach to art-making – to your life?

Many of us, myself included, have formed an unhealthy relationship to failure. For me, it was always something to be ashamed of. It meant I wasn’t good enough, smart enough, or didn’t try hard enough. When I was faced with new things to learn and try, there was always an overwhelming feeling of pressure. Would I look like a fool? Would I be judged for my first attempt in learning? With those kinds of thoughts running in the background, I would stay in my comfort zone more often than not, and miss out on many wonderful adventures - the kind that life offers us in abundance. 

I tended to do the things I knew I could do, the things I was good at, the things that would help me maintain the identity of being good, successful, and competent. I became quite perfectionistic…making very sure that all the details were right and everything looked good. Often I would stand in the illusion that this wasn’t fear of failure, that these were my high standards that I was meeting, and was challenged with letting go of control. Control equaled safety, acceptance, and love.

As I write this now, I am aware of the deep burden this was to carry – the pressure and limits that I constantly placed on myself – the rigidness of living this way. While there were some benefits, the costs were high and I often overworked myself to remain in this position. All of it to avoid the feelings of shame that would descend when I floundered or failed at something. Making a mistake would feel like my world might end.

Later in life, when I committed to making my art full time and attended art school, I bumped up hard against this unhealthy relationship to failure. I was now in an environment where failure was baked into the process – the creative process. But, I didn’t fully understand that and it wasn’t too long before things switched from learning modality to performing – I needed to be good at this, and quickly.

Art had other plans for me. 

After graduating, with the imagined benchmark of having completed all I needed to know about art-making, I began the slow descent into creative anxiety and angst. The internal guiding rule I was following was that everything I made had to be a success, otherwise it was evidence of my inability as an artist. Failure meant I was a bad artist, without a focus, without the skill or talent, without a future. It was like moving mountains to get me into the studio. Facing the avalanche of feelings was too much for me most days, and I had no path to follow, no idea how to help myself. I didn’t know that I needed to companion my fear of failure. This certainly wasn’t something that I learned in art school.

When we recognize the true value of failure in the creative process, we give ourselves the ultimate freedom. What would you make, create, or do if you knew that failing at it was the way forward and the only way to achieve what you are envisioning for yourself? If we had an attitude of “let’s try and see what happens” we’d be jumping in with both feet, curious and open to what we could discover for ourselves. Failure then becomes a guiding force. It shows us where to go next, how to improve, what else to try. It’s simply a part of the process - an important and welcome part. 

It is said that there is tremendous learning in failure, and that we learn very little from our successes. So, how do we fail better? How can we find a place within ourselves that can allow failure to be a good thing, and not something to be avoided at all costs?

When we know better, we do better. The first step we can take is to reframe our understanding of what failure offers us, and how essential it is for the creative process and our development as artists. We need to consciously choose how we will relate to our failures when they come, perhaps even set-up situations where we will fail just to exercise our failure muscles, becoming failure resilient.

We can spend some time unpacking our own mental constructs around failure – what story do we carry about failure? How might this story be impacting our ability to take risks in our art-making? What would you create if you knew that you could not actually fail, in the ways you have imagined failure in the past? What is the new story you can write about failure and what it means for you?

Have your dance with failure. Invite it into the studio with you and let it show you the power it has to free you from the burden of “not good enough.” Failure is the way to amp up your art-making. It is the opening you’re looking for. When you give yourself full permission to fail, any attempts you make are beautiful experiments in innovating and discovery. Take what is valuable from the experience and let the rest go, without any shame baggage or inner narratives.

And if, like me, avoiding failure has been a lifelong focus, then know that it will take some time to find your way with this, but it will be worth it. Stay committed to understanding this relationship between the creative process and failure. You will be freed by this in ways you had not imagined possible.

Prefer to listen? Click on the link below to listen to and/or download the audio version of this Blog post.

CREATIVITY JOURNALS

It may feel challenging to give precious time to journal work when you only have a limited amount of time for your art-making. I understand that. But this process that we’re engaged in as artists is one of self actualization and discovery – revealing yourself to yourself.

This happens through deep introspection and connection. And as a result this connection to yourself shows itself in your art. It’s felt by you when doing the work – and experienced by others when they view it.

For our art to be a reflection of our authentic voice, we need to be connected to our authentic selves. To do this we need to take time, ask questions, welcome answers and meet our perfectly imperfect selves with the deepest curiosity, compassion, and acceptance.

Journaling is the gateway to your authenticity, simply by accessing the bigger YOU and quieting the smaller you. The bigger YOU is unencumbered by limiting thoughts and fears. This version of YOU is always available to connect with, but is often quieted by the noise and struggle of the smaller versions of ourselves – the self that allows unproductive thoughts to overtake us and paves the way for feelings of overwhelm or struggle to be more dominant.

This bigger YOU that arrives in your Creativity Journal, and becomes your trusted companion, is available to you at any time, helping you in moments of difficulty and lifting you up when you succeed and grow. It’s our inner support system and we simply need to know how to connect with this part of ourselves to draw on the gifts and guidance available to us.

When you connect with this part of yourself more frequently, through journaling and creative engagement, you can bring this YOU into your creative practice at any time. This YOU can show up and guide you through challenges, blocks, moments of not knowing and steadfastly support your movement towards creating the vision you hold for yourself and your art. YOU are all you need, and that is such a comfort. 

So where do you begin in this process of knowing the bigger version of YOU? 

You start right where you are, with what is present for you. If this territory is completely new to you, begin by writing about how you feel about the prospect of getting to know this part of yourself.

And, if you’re struggling with the very idea of meeting YOU, then here are some writing prompts to get you going:

• When I am my wisest and most compassionate self, what do I know for certain?

• If I was to offer myself some support and advice about how to begin this process, what would I tell myself?

• If I become aware that I have a lot of resistance, or even fear, around beginning this process, what might I say to myself to settle these feelings and begin?

• What am I willing to let go of to be in this process with myself? What do I need to accept, create and allow? What am I letting go to – meaning what are you moving towards, and wanting to create for yourself?

• When in my life have I drawn on my inner strength and support for guidance and comfort? What was valuable about that?

Do you work with a creativity journal? I’d love to hear how it supports you, and what it offers to your art-practice. Thank you for sharing your experience with us.

This short version blog post is a part of my Mindset Moment series, an accompanying edition to my bi-monthly blog post. My intention for these Mindset Moments is to speak to some of the common challenges artists face with their creative work, and how a mindset shift can make a difference.

They are short reads, with a suggestion or writing prompt that you can work with…as well as an invitation to join in the conversation, sharing your experience and insights.

You can join the conversation by leaving a comment under this blog post, or on my social media posts. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me, wherever you find me.

Please subscribe to my mailing list if you’d like to receive these posts, along with my longer bi-montly blog post and newsletter.

IN THE BEGINNING

I’ve often wondered how things might have been different for me, as a beginning artist, if someone had told me some of the things that I know now about the process of making art. While I don’t have any regrets for how things unfolded for me, what would I tell myself if I could go back 20 years, and offer my struggling self some wisdom and support? 

In the beginning of our art-making we don’t yet know what we don’t know. Everything is possible and untouched by previous experiences in art-making. We are in a state known as beginner’s mind – a place of openness and learning, unencumbered by beliefs that we’re not good enough or worthy. For the most part, we’re simply excited to be creating and recognize it’s unfair to have any expectations of ourselves at this point. We are there to learn…and begin. There is only promise and possibilities.

However, depending on our previous learning experiences, we could certainly be bringing with us beliefs about our ability to learn and perform. So right at the beginning there can be mindset work to do, work that can lay the ground for us to receive, learn, and grow more effectively.

Here are some key understandings about art-making that I wish someone shared with me when I began making my art:

Don’t expect too much too soon. Give yourself plenty of time to learn the skills you’ll need and to develop your own understanding of the creative process, and the creative mindset.

Putting your work out there too soon can be detrimental to your development as an artist. Think of a musician playing a concert before they have fully developed their skills and sensibilities as a player. Artists also need time with their craft to gain experience and make solid work before inviting critique through the judgment of others that are not informed of your history as an artist. What they have to offer may not be valuable for you, and could derail your efforts to get better at what you do.

Art-making is a lifelong pursuit, and you’ll never exhaust your potential, so be in it for the long game, not immediate gratification.

There is plenty of joy to be found in the creative process, and there is also struggle. They are both part of being an artist, and we should know how to meet them both well. 

Don’t expect your creating time to always be uplifting and satisfying, and don’t give meaning to the days that are not. Try to find a place of neutrality where you can be comfortable with wherever you are in the process – allowing, accepting, and being curious.

In the beginning you’ll be exploring a lot of different mediums, styles, approaches, and techniques. You’ll learn from others and be influenced greatly by those whose work you admire, celebrate, and learn from. You don’t, yet, know who you are as an artist and this time in exploration and trying things is essential and helps you define a path for yourself. 

When looking at other artist’s work, be mindful to not compare yourself to them. Comparison energy is very draining and futile. It doesn’t help you to stay connected to your expression and budding sensibilities when you focus on what they have that you don’t, yet. They are on their path, and you yours…they can’t be compared. 

In looking at other artist’s work, you can discover yourself more fully by focussing on what inspires you about that work. Ask yourself if what you are connecting with in another artist’s work is potentially an ungerminated seed within your own? Or is it so unlike you that you find it compelling in its contrast to your sensibilities? The answer to this question is the way to leverage influence in your work and develop your voice.

Your voice already resides in you. It doesn't need to be found, because it was never lost, it only needs to be accessed and understood. This too will take time…patience in this process allows for more information to become available to you. Forcing yourself to know your voice will likely lead you off course and waste precious energy. 

Knowing yourself and time spent considering your responses, choices, and compulsions, is also a very direct path to accessing your artist’s voice and having it show-up more fully in your art-making. Creative journals, reflective writing, along with sketchbook work can be a process that assists you in this access to your voice. 

Learn to trust your intuition, but also know that art-making is not only informed by our intuition. Just “letting it happen” is a way to enjoy your expression, and possibly discover something new, but it doesn’t always generate connected, meaningful work for us. We also need our intelligence and discernment. We just need to know how and when to employ them. 

Your creative work will evolve over time, and reflect aspects of yourself to yourself over that time. Our job as artists is to understand this interrelationship between us, our personalities, and our art-making. For instance, if your habit is to be self-critical, this will begin to show up in your art-making pretty quickly, even as a beginner. Without having methods to work with that tendency, you’ll likely find yourself experiencing much-too-much angst in the process and you may become resistant to even making work. We need a mindset that supports the rigors of art-making.

Resistance, and creative anxiety, is a normal part of the creative process, and can come on pretty quickly, often as soon as you begin to develop some skills and start attaching to the desire for a better outcome for the work. 

We can be fully invested in our work, put in tremendous effort, and still feel disappointed with the results. This is because we are attached to the outcome, and the feelings that arrive for us when we perform well, or have a good result. We have to be extra careful about our relationship to this tripping point. Be invested, but not attached. Focus on your efforts, your mindset, and your commitment. With this as a focus, better results are inevitable.

At some point you may begin to question why you’re making art at all. This is a really important place to acknowledge and meet well. The fact this question arrived for you is significant. It is telling you that you’re moving from making art as a beginner, in the depths of learning, into living a life purpose, and anchoring your art-marking to that purpose. 

Many of the big questions that arrive around our art-making practice, and life, are signs that we are being called to go deeper. We are accessing our voice, and our vision for our work and our lives. 

Art-making is hard work, often with little external reward or validation. There is a tremendous gap in your knowledge and understanding when you begin, and that gap is carried with you, perhaps closing up somewhat, as you understand more and more of the complexity and beauty of the creative process. But, there is always a gap…and that is actually a good thing for us.

Your vision for your work, once formed, continues to grow greater than your abilities, and leads you forward – searching and pursuing something you may never attain. But the choice to seek it out is profoundly rewarding and will only deepen your relationship to yourself, and your life purpose. This is the gift of “the gap.”

Be where you are in the process. Meet each stage with reverence and curiosity. Hold the deepest compassion for the courage it takes to remain present and do the work. Strengthen your mindset so that you can be resilient and pliable through all the ups and downs. Know that there is value in what you do, even if that value is only known to you. Trust yourself and seek out supportive, like-minded communities along the way. 

Art will change you and teach you…and all of it will be worth it. Stay grounded and trust the process.

Prefer to listen? Click on the link below to listen to and/or download the audio version of this Blog post.

MANAGING CREATIVE ANXIETY

The practice of managing creative anxiety – fear, resistance, and blocked energy – is ongoing work for artists. It never really goes away. But we can get much better at managing it. When we are empowered with knowledge and understand the creative cycle, we’re then prepared and informed to meet what arrives. We know what we can do to shift our energy and get moving once again in our work.

This is the dance of creation – and you are your own choreographer, and your own creativity coach.

Often the times we feel most challenged to manage our creative anxiety are when we are facing some kind of external pressure with our work – like preparing a body of work for an exhibition, making a painting for a juried show or competition, or commission work where we are working to someone’s criteria and requests.

For most of us, the challenge at these times is that the external pressure causes us to spend much-too-much time in our thinking state – trying to figure things out and get it right. We begin to focus too much on these external concerns, and lose connection with our authentic expression and intentions for the work. 

The brain loves solving problems and will latch on to that opportunity whenever it can –obsessing and ruminating in its attempt to figure out what has been planted there by us. Creative anxiety arrives as a result and we are locked up. The work suffers, and so do we.

To do our best work we need to have a balance between the thinking, discerning mind and the playful, loose, explorative, intuitive working state that we find so juicy for our art-making.

We need to be able to easily move between these two states and recognize which one we’re in, so we can make a shift at any time. We need to remain mindful as we approach our work and utilize everything that we know to assist us in navigating the dance of creation. 

Am I over-thinking? Is this the right time to reflect and assess the work?

While recognizing that even with this new understanding around creative anxiety, the habits are still present, and the fear and tightness arrives. In those moments we just need to notice what is occurring for us, catch it and reframe our experience – turning our thoughts towards a more supportive internal narrative. We become sensitive to when we’re triggered and we do what we need to do to move through any resistance we’re feeling and towards our creative work with the right energy. And, that right energy is being curious about our experience and compassionate towards our struggles. 

What is your experience with creative anxiety? What do you do to help yourself to shift that energy to something more helpful for you and your creative work? 

This short version blog post is a part of my Mindset Moment series, an accompanying edition to my bi-monthly blog post. My intention for these Mindset Moments is to speak to some of the common challenges artists face with their creative work, and how a mindset shift can make a difference.

They are short reads, with a suggestion or writing prompt that you can work with…as well as an invitation to join in the conversation, sharing your experience and insights.

You can join the conversation by leaving a comment under this blog post, or on my social media posts. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me, wherever you find me.

Please subscribe to my mailing list if you’d like to receive these posts, along with my longer bi-montly blog post and newsletter.

ART AND GRIEF

In life, pain and loss is inevitable…it simply comes with the human experience. Our suffering, as we negotiate the emotional labour that naturally arrives through this pain, is something that bonds us all. We all know, to different degrees, how this feels.

I recently lost my father to cancer. It was a long two and half year illness that brought much change to my family and offered us all an opportunity to meet our loss and grief in our own way. 

Grief is a unique process for everyone, as we all experience it differently and find our way with it, as it finds its way with us. It can be a time of deep loss and suffering, a life-changing event that alters our lives and our relationship to ourselves.

Grief is felt when we experience any significant change that disrupts our lives. It can come as a result of losing someone we love, or moving to a new home. It’s a natural, but often a confusing emotion for us to embrace.

As artists we experience most everything through the filter of our creative process - how our art-making is being altered and impacted by our experience. As life changes, we change, and our art and practice changes in response. These experiences of loss and grief will intertwine with our creative process as a result. 

Earlier this year, perhaps in preparation for what I knew was coming, I interviewed an artist, and dear friend, Caroline James, on this topic for my membership community. Caroline had lost her partner to cancer a few years prior and was able to share from her experience, allowing us to understand how it impacted her art-making, and what helped her to reconnect to it once more.

She spoke about the poignant beauty of loss, along with the arrival of unexpected emotions and creative paralysis. How it feels to lose the self, and what it means to meet yourself there – untethered to what once was. Caroline also offered us insights on how to begin again after such a huge shift in one’s experience and life, and what teachings are accessed through this profound vulnerability.

It was a true privilege to witness Caroline’s sincere sharing of her deep personal loss and grief, from an artist’s perspective. And now, at this time of my own grieving, revisiting what she shared is bringing me such comfort. I want to offer her wisdom to you as well…as mine is still forming within me as I process all that I am feeling and how my art-making is being impacted.

Here are the key takeaways from my discussion with Caroline:

Experiencing a significant loss or life change can, and likely will, cause you to feel unable to access your creativity for a period of time. When you experience an absence of access to your creativity it can be very unsettling and generate a lot of anxiety around engaging with your work. While this is normal, it’s important to give yourself access to your studio. Make yourself go to your studio everyday, even if you don’t feel like it. Just being there is enough.

When we have been changed significantly by life events, such as grief and loss, what matters to us changes as well – what we give meaning to changes. We are then called to redefine meaning and purpose for ourselves, and in our art-making. Let go of the things in your art practice that no longer serve you, to make room for something new that is arriving. That process will add new meaning to your work…and it will take time. 

Find a message or statement that anchors you and reminds you of what helps, and look at it often. “Go back to your work. The world needs you.” Caroline heard this message come through for her and wrote this on her studio wall as a visual reminder to pay attention to her needs as a part of her healing journey. It was also a reminder that her work is serving a meaningful purpose – both for her healing and the world’s. 

Accept the humility of the process you are in – grief is especially humbling. Extend patience, trust, and the deepest self-compassion and empathy to yourself, as you work through accepting that you are not the same person you were before. Allow yourself to sit with the discomfort of not knowing who you are becoming. Trust, as much as possible, that who you are becoming is someone you will love.

Know that your first attempt back to work will be, and feel, transitional. Don’t expect to pick-up where you left off. Consider creating “throw away art” that will help you process your feelings, your anger and grief. This work will be unintentionally raw and will help you tell your story and release what is active within you. Most importantly, it will give you an accessible place to start again.

This transitional art will help you realize that you can support your own creative process at this time. As you reflect on it, you can ask yourself, what am I excited about in this work? Focus lightly on that, without expectation or moving to try to define what has emerged as good or bad…just noticing, attending and accepting.

Allow your transitional work to be a place of necessity, which will be a different space of necessity than you experienced before. Recognize it will be a space for you to express your present needs. Do I need to cry, scream, smash charcoal and slam down paint lids? Ask yourself, what is meaningful about this work I am doing and what do I want to do next?

Let go of the expectations and outcomes of your transitional work. Let it be in service of this transitional time…and only ask, what do I feel and need from this work? Then surrender to what wants to come through you and do not judge it. Meet it with openness and acceptance. 

Find a way to remind yourself daily to treat yourself with kindness and compassion. This will help preserve your self identity and self worth. While this is always essential for the support and nurturance of your creative process and development as an artist, it is never more important than it is at this time.

Stay connected to your artist’s community and to people who understand what loss means and can kindly support you with empathy. They will remind you of the importance of your art and how it will heal you. This is essential. 

Know that you will come back from grief to something meaningful. You may not know when or the way that will happen, but it will happen. Trusting this place is necessary. 

Recognize that other losses (such as losing a home or a job) are also significant and will likely affect you in much the same way. This time will also need a transitional art practice to help you emotionally move forward. Connecting with and channeling your emotions will be your authentic work. What you recognize in this work is you and your truth. Don’t give energy to others' experience with it – they will always have their own unique experience with your work. You can trust that.   

Be okay with starting over and returning to the basics – allow yourself to be at the beginning of your art journey once more. Forgive yourself for not being the person or artist you were before your grief or loss. This ability to start at the beginning once more, exercises the creative muscle memory and lays out a way forward that is doable from where you are now – in this new place with yourself and your work. 

Learn to self-soothe and remind yourself that you will be okay. Self-compassion and permission to be where you are is a healing balm for your tender heart.  

When you begin working again, pay attention to what your emotional needs are so they can show up in your work authentically. For example, you may need to create work that is quiet and simplified now, and that may be different from your previous work. Pay attention to where you’re being called to go. At times, you may find yourself moving back into what is familiar from your previous work, simply because it is part of your visual vocabulary. When we’re in new territory we feel the discomfort of not knowing, and this returning to what is familiar provides relief. This moving back and forth is all part of finding who you are now, and revealing that to yourself. If the familiar vocabulary/elements come back into the work, check in with yourself to see if that feels right and authentic for you now. If not, let it go.

Stay curious and take risks when you’re moving beyond the work you once did. Your new work will transition with you as you move through the grieving/change process. Your new work will be in service of your healing, as it builds new pathways of meaning for you.

Prefer to listen? Click on the link below to listen to and/or download the audio version of this Blog post.

EVOLUTION IN ART IS INEVITABLE

Sometimes in our art practice we feel the call to move elsewhere in our work. It seems to arrive as a stirring and a quiet dissatisfaction with what we’re making. It can arrive even if we have worked for a while and have developed a solid working structure and a recognizable voice. It can come even if we have had some measure of success with the work we have been making – both in how we feel about it and how it has been received. We may have been consistently focused on an aspect of our artistic development, working with a set of intentions, or building a body of work…and, we know this has benefitted us greatly, yet we feel compelled to move somewhere else.

The work of an artist is to be attuned to these drivers that propel our work forward into new territory, as unsettling as they can be. And, more importantly, artists need to be willing to take risks in their work throughout their lifetime as an artist. Risking is the fuel of creativity, igniting our artist’s bones and drawing us towards something we have not yet discovered for ourselves. It’s how we are being called to evolve. 

It may begin with a feeling of dissatisfaction with where you are, or it may be a feeling of longing towards something yet undiscovered. However it arrives for us, we feel it, and we can welcome it with our curiosity and courage, because that’s what artists do. That is what keeps us alive in the work and how the work offers back to us another layer of meaning and deep connection to self. Creativity expands us and calls forth our growth. This is natural and something we want to embrace in our art practice. 

What often gets in the way of this evolutionary process in art-making is our attachment to where we have been, and the certainty that offers us. 

Art-making is inherently challenging by its very nature. It strips away the conventional approaches that we typically use in our day to day lives and asks us to trust the unknown, to go forward when we don’t know where we’re going, or if there will be anything of value when we get there. So, we hesitate and we convince ourselves that we’re better served to stay put…after all, it’s working for us. We’re making our art and we have an approach that we know works…why mess with that? 

At this point the inner struggle between staying and moving can become a drain on us, simply because we’re choosing security instead of the creative adventure. We want the results and the certainty of acceptance for the work – our own and others’. But as the dissatisfaction grows we lose connection with the very essence of why we make art in the first place. We have moved from creators to producers. We produce what we know we can do, and we have stopped evolving. 

When we begin to place value in our evolution and the creative process itself, we begin again with seed planting, as the author and music producer, Rick Rubin, shares in his book ‘The Creative Act.’ We can regenerate an idea that we may have set aside when we narrowed our focus and set out clear intentions to work with. That seed can now be watered and explored to see what it could become. And, regardless of what comes forth in that process, the value is in what we discover and where that takes us. 

It’s important to remember that when we evolve in our work we don’t abandon what we have done before, or where we have been and what we have learned. We carry all of our experience and learning with us as we meet this new place of discovery and innovation. Everything we connect and play with in this exploration phase is informed by what already resides within us – our artist’s internal library of information, sensibilities, knowledge and experiences. I find that extremely comforting, and at the same time something to pay attention to for its pull on me. It’s a delicate balance to hold. 

As I recently faced this need to move elsewhere in my own work, I recognized the inner struggles that were bubbling up and active within me. They were familiar in many ways, and invited me to pay attention, get curious, and extend compassion to the part of me that was unsure if moving somewhere else in the work was such a good idea. 

While I was comfortable sharing some of my early experiments with my peers and private communities, I noticed I wasn’t talking about this more broadly through my social media platforms. I was holding back a space from external commentary because it might have felt confusing or conflicting for me, and I needed to be my own counsel here. I knew that I needed to protect my sprouting efforts from my inner critic’s trampling voice. And, for me, there is nothing like exposing myself to others to bring up those inner voices for me to work with. So I asked myself if I could give myself permission to hold a space for me not to share, to just do the work and reflect. This seemed so important to do.

I am still in the deep exploratory seeding stage with my work right now, but there are things that are beginning to form and feel more solid for me. And, as a Creativity Coach, I am learning from my own experience and understanding some of the nuances of this time and cycles of the creative work. Here is what I know and understand so far:

• Artists must evolve in their work and it will generate discomfort to do that.

• We will know when the time is right for that if we are attentive to our inner stirrings and longings. Apathy towards what we are creating is likely a clue that a move is coming, or needed. 

• The value in moving elsewhere in the work is in what you’ll discover and the reward you’ll feel in the growth and evolution, not the end product itself. That need for a result – a successful work of art – needs to be set aside at this time. We need to revisit and renew our healthy relationship to failure.

• If you can commit to what you’re doing as valuable and set-up both an internal and external space for yourself that allows you to not judge anything too soon, you’ll give yourself the best opportunity to connect with what is wanting to come through. 

• Being choiceful about who you share your budding attempts with is crucial. This may be the time to generate some selective privacy for yourself. Your audience will understand and you can also educate them as to why this is necessary and a vital part of the creative life and work.

• You will be carrying with you everything you know and have created. Nothing is being abandoned or negated. You are building on your own history. Trust this implicitly and open a space for things that are unfamiliar, out of your typical and habitual approaches. It’s actually easy to stay with what we know and where we have been…it’s much harder to move away from that. So, we take it with us and see what else is possible by asking that very question of everything we’re doing – what else is possible in what I already know and do?

• It will take as long as it takes…and there will be a strong pull to go back to what is comfortable. Stay where you are and don’t surrender to what is easy. You’re an artist and you know how to do hard things, you do it every single time you choose to make your work. Remember who you are and why evolution is essential to you finding lifelong meaning in your creative work. 

• You’ll be surprised, unsettled, unsure, and invigorated. You’ll feel very alive…and you’ll remember that art-making is a force of nature, a force within you that must be expressed fully.

Take the leap…it will be worth it.

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WHOLENESS

Kristin Neff is a leader in the study of self-compassion and its value in helping us to find more confidence and ease in our lives, relationships, and work. She tells us that suffering is a universal human experience, and something we all share. In fact, research shows that self-compassion towards our suffering is one of the most powerful ways we can heal ourselves, by strengthening our inner resilience and acceptance. 

Many of us were broken by others, even right from the beginning – from birth. Throughout our lives we may have come to believe we had to be different from who we are to be loved, accepted, and safe. We learned that others saw us as flawed, wrong in some meaningful way, and as a result we felt broken or incomplete. We lost connection with our wholeness as a result. 

Our healing comes through returning to this wholeness, by coming to know that we were not responsible for others happiness. We were not born with that as our purpose. We were born in wholeness…pure and receptive to what is being offered through life and the experiences we encounter. This wholeness is everyone’s birthright…and yet, it is so easily negated through the hardship of life.

As others molded us through their actions and inactions, we molded ourselves into the versions that made sense with what we knew, and what we thought they wanted us to be. We survived by being what others needed us to be, so we could be lovable and, in some cases, to simply be safe from harm. By taking these actions – which were necessary acts of self care – we were not able to truly love ourselves, and this broke our inherent wholeness. We had to break the wholeness by having to make this choice. And, with help, we can return to wholeness once more. Because it is what we already are. 

In contemplating this concept of our inherent wholeness, a question arose for me: what if an artist’s pursuit and purpose in their work was for this wholeness to be witnessed, felt, understood? What if we artists are looking for that visual, experiential moment to help us remember wholeness? What if the search and longing we feel when making our art is the deep abiding passion for a life affirming statement – a statement that says, “I am whole and complete as I am. Wholeness exists. I make art to know this within myself and for you to see and feel whole too. We exist in this wholeness together. This is where we can connect.”

What if the purpose of art was to experience and connect with wholeness – to remember? How might we engage with art from that attitude or belief? It seems that what art offers us is immeasurable in that way. How do you place value on your truth, your life, your soul?

When we connect with this essential purpose in art-making, what we create becomes more than an object or a product. It is a life affirming practice that reminds us of who we truly are. It returns us home, to ourselves…and we become whole once more.

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TRANSITIONS

Everything changes. That is the only constant there is. And, while this concept may appear to be completely logical, it seems it is not natural for us to meet change with the receptivity that we could, or perhaps should. In large part, this is because we’re hardwired to be on the alert for change – a throwback to a time when vigilance to change was key to our very survival.

Often life altering changes – like a deeply personal loss, a transition to a new way of being or a new place to occupy – can bring about some pretty complex inner stirrings that can take us by surprise. 

In my work with artists, huge life changes often have an impact on their creative output and connection to their work. The loss of a loved one or a home, a significant change in our health or the health of someone we care for, can bring about so much grief and internal conflict. We are flooded with emotions, details, choices, and consequences we were not fully prepared to encounter. 

Change has come for us…and we now need to find a way to move with it. And our creative process needs to move with it as well. When we’re profoundly changed, our art-making will also be changed. So how do we meet this time with openness and trust, when it feels so unsettling?

At this time we simply need to accept that we are in transition, first in our lives and then in our creative work. 

This is just one type of transition that artists face. The other occurs when we feel the need to move elsewhere in our creative work. All artists evolve and continue to develop in our art-making, and there will be times when we’re aware of feeling not fully satisfied with the work we’re currently making. We know that we want something more, something different, but we don’t know what that is…yet. We’re fully in the in-between…and that can be a very unsettling place to be. 

This is another time when we need to embrace the transitional space we’re in and continue to move forward in order to access what wants to arrive. 

In a previous blog post called ‘Art and Change’ I talked about how we need to have a solid foundational purpose for making our work. One that isn’t impacted by the inevitable external changes that naturally occur – galleries closing, submission rejections, lack of sales, etc.  

But, what I am speaking to here is more about our internal changes. The ones that come from life altering events, as well as the deep desire to evolve in our creative work. These types of changes – these transitional spaces – require a certain type of mindset to meet them well and remain connected to our creativity and artistic identity. 

Art gives meaning to our lives, and for artists, art-making is a meaning-making process. It is what we access as we connect with intention and purpose in our work. When we’re struggling to find a foothold in our life due to significant changes, we are in a meaning crisis. Everything we thought was meaningful for us has shifted and we’re now trying to find what is meaningful to us from this new place we find ourselves in. 

The truth is if you have experienced, or are currently experiencing, deep grief due to a personal loss, you may have not been able to make your art for some time. You may have found yourself empty and uninspired. You may be flooded with the magnitude of what you’re going through, and simply don’t know how to find a way forward. 

I understand, and want to offer some things that may help.

Please know that this is completely normal and an expected response to something  significant. So the first step is to accept that is where you are. Let go of any negative judgement around it, and find small ways to visit your creativity – without any pressure to “make” anything. 

This is a time when light sketchbook work can be helpful, or just simply showing up to the studio and being in your space. Even these small acts will have meaning for you, and they will begin, over time, to forge a bridge back into your art-making. And, it may take some time, depending on your own process with grief and loss.

As you give space to the transition you’re in, by allowing yourself to explore without pressure to know what it means, or if it’s valuable, you’ll be offering yourself the very best opportunity to connect with what is forming within you – what you’re now finding meaningful. 

At this time, focus on making “transitional” art – art that is responsive to where you are right now, in this deep space of change. As you reflect on it, you can ask yourself, “What am I excited about in this work? What holds interest for me here?” Focus lightly on that, without expectation or trying to define what has emerged as good or bad...just noticing, attending and accepting.

If we can acknowledge when we are in a transitional space in our lives, and/or our art-making, we can meet this time with respect and reverence for what it can offer us. We can also extend the deepest kindness and compassion to ourselves, which will help preserve our identity and self-worth. While this is essential for the support and nurturance of our creative process and development as artists, it is never more important than it is during times of transition.

When we're facing challenges, we often feel compelled to isolate and disconnect from others. Connecting with your artist's community, joining a support group, or confiding in a trusted friend are great avenues of support. Transitions and change feel less difficult when we're not going through them alone.

Remain ever curious and allow yourself to take risks when you’re moving beyond the work you once did. Your new work will transition with you as you move through the grieving/change process. And your new work will be in service of your healing, as it builds new pathways of meaning for you.

This is very much a process of rebirth…and with every birthing process there is an extended period of intense labour before the arrival of new life. This too will pass…as everything changes. That we can trust.

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ART MATTERS

I recently moved back into our home after a lengthy renovation. One of the more difficult aspects of packing up and moving out for a period of time was having to put our treasured art collection into storage. It was equally surprising how important it felt to place the art once more after we returned to our home. It was like the house wasn’t truly alive until the art hit the walls. Until then it felt like it was undressed, incomplete, and missing its soul. Even the most beautiful of homes can be elevated by the thoughtful placement of art. The energetic shift that happened when that first piece of art was hung in our new space was palpable. It immediately just felt right. I was home again. 

Because I make art I have an array of my work to select from to hang on our walls, but I also buy art. I love collecting work that awakens something in me – pieces that just feel right and that I want to have in my life for a long time. It’s the best feeling to encounter a work of art that does that, touching into a place that nothing else can. Just as music can sweep us up in an ecstasy of emotions, and written words can carry us into dreamlike worlds, art also offers us a place of wonderment – an escape from mediocrity and the confines of our predictability. 

Art has the power to provoke, elicit, and bring into question the assumptions we seem to make so easily. It reminds us that we are changeable, fragile, sensory beings and that we know more than we often allow ourselves to consider. Just as the artist has to trust the process of making the work, art finds us and connects with us in this way only when we’re willing to travel with it, trust its lead, and let go into it. Artists infuse their work with life and meaning, and we get to experience it as they did while making it, but through our unique filters and position with the work. We get to have our own experience as the viewer - one that belongs solely to us.

While the artist knows the work intimately, from beginning to end, through the ugly stages to resolute beauty, the viewer sees it as a complete expression, all of it being revealed in that single moment. Even a score of music or piece of writing unfolds over time, but art confronts us – asking us to see it now, in its entirety. There may be evidence of the artist’s hand or the history of its creation, but it is its wholeness that we meet as we take it in. And that can be both overwhelming and captivating, bringing up much for us to consider. Art requires us to be present and open, both in the making and the viewing.

Ironically, that is why looking at art takes time. We need to slow down our experience of it to be able to absorb all of its intricacies and nuanced passages. More and more is revealed over time and we begin to feel as if we are coming to know it differently and more deeply as we spend time with it. Like a relationship, we acquaint ourselves with each other, and over time our feelings deepen as we understand each other more intimately.  

When I am looking at the work of other artists I often feel that I am coming to know them in a uniquely personal way. I think of the connection they have had to the work, what it has meant to them, and the commitment and sacrifices they made for it to come into existence. As an artist myself I know how much goes into each piece – I know my own sacrifices given in an effort to make something meaningful. I know that as an artist I am part of something that is often only understood by those that also do this work. When I take in a piece of art, I feel all of that as well as the fulsomeness of the expression and visual phenomenon that I am experiencing.

To live with art is to further deepen that connection. Many times a work looks different to me when I am encountering it from a different emotional place. It seems to find me where I am at this time, layering new meanings into its already beautiful and complex presence. At times I can lose myself in it, eyes moving over every inch as if seeing it for the first time, and emotions arrive as I attempt to hold on to waves of feelings and memories. Is there a story here that I know or recognize? Is it offering me something new to discover - both in the work and within myself? 

I can’t imagine living without art. I know what it holds, does, means, and offers me. Each time we choose a work of art, that choice is founded on the agreement that this work is to be a constant energetic presence in our home, our sacred space. This agreement is not taken lightly, and when a work of art moves us in a way that we feel aligned with, that’s the work we want to own and grace our home with. We choose to enter into a relationship with this work and depending on our life circumstances, it may be a difficult choice to justify, but as art lovers we know it is one that will undoubtedly enhance our lives and enliven our spirit, as we dance and sway with the wonderment that only a work of art can provide.

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ART AND CHANGE

One of the unforeseen outcomes of having lived through several years of uncertainty, disruption, and shifting support structures due to the global challenges we have all had to face, is the recognition that the external conditions that we had come to rely on are incredibly fragile. 

This affected artists in many different ways. While some found the changes we all experienced through 2020 and 2021 offered them space for creative projects they hadn’t otherwise been able to get to, others felt disconnected and unsure of what could replace the motivators for making their art. Exhibition opportunities dried up, open studios were no longer possible, art fairs were canceled. All of these places where artists typically were able to share and sell their work were suddenly gone. 

Many artists I worked with during that time felt challenged to continue producing work. The usual drivers that they used to motivate themselves, innovate around, and that caused them to push into new territories or even overcome resistance to making new work, were just not there. So what now? What motivates us to go to the studio if we don’t have any place to show our work? 

I think this time brought up some interesting things for us to consider around our art-practice – not only about how to negotiate the changing external circumstances, as they did in 2020, but when we’re not accepted into an exhibition or our gallery proposal is turned down.

If our art-making hinges on external validation and opportunities, what do we do when all that changes and we don’t have access to what worked for us before? We have to have something untouchable, something that anchors us – no matter what – to making our art.

The foundational ground of art-making, and for any form of creative work, is to actualize a life purpose. This gives meaning to our lives. Art-making is meaning-making. This is the untouchable, unchangeable tether we need to create for ourselves as artists. This will always be a driver that moves us to make our work – no matter what has changed for us. 

In recent months, as things have opened back up and opportunities once again arrive for us, some artists feel as if they lost ground during that time and are now struggling with how to resume a practice. They may notice that they have been changed by life, and now their work will, and should be, a reflection of that change. But how can they access that space, that inner terrain of self that has been altered in so many ways? 

This is when we most need to understand the nature of creativity and its connection to the self. We need to be willing to look inward and see what has been altered, what feels different, and what has arrived anew for us. We then have to spend some time allowing ourselves to become familiar with this altered place within us and begin to communicate it through the language of art-making. We reestablish the connection between meaning and form, meaning and colour, meaning and the relationship of the elements we use to describe our experience.

It’s important to not only give space to this time of reorientation, but also to honour it as a very necessary part of our development as an artist. Our work doesn’t have to radically change, but it does have to reflect what has changed within us to be authentic and feel accessible for us to make. If we try to start back from where we were, making the same work, but from this new place we’re occupying, it will not hold ground for us, and that energy signature will come through. 

So whether we have been altered by a global pandemic, or if we have experienced great loss and change in our personal lives, we have to recognize the significance of this and allow ourselves some time to adapt and come to know who we have become as a result.

Art is a mirror to the self…it reveals ourselves to ourselves. This is why art-making is such a transformative experience for us. What art-making requires of us is to commit to uncertainty, to remain present even in the face of our fears, discomfort, and feelings of inadequacy. We pursue a vision for our work that can never be attained, as that vision is so much bigger than ourselves and its purpose is to continually expand as we get closer to it. This expansion carries us further into our work, and commitment…as we relentlessly pursue it, knowing we’ll never get there. 

And, that is the nature of art-making…making all aspects of it meaningful for us. Art continually leads you to the betterment of yourself and your work. All we have to do is be willing to show up and nurture our mindset so that we can compassionately access what we need to clear away and offer ourselves the very best opportunity to connect with this profound meaning-making purpose.

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THE ROLE OF INFLUENCE

It’s claimed that Pablo Picasso said “Good artists copy, great artists steal.” There is great wisdom in this sharing, regardless of whether Picasso actually said it or not. So much so that the writer Austin Kleon fashioned a wonderful little book called ‘Steal Like an Artist’ on this concept and helped to broaden the understanding of what Picasso may have meant by this quote. 

Being creative means finding a new undiscovered path, perhaps something that has never been done or seen before. As artists and creators we want our expression to communicate our unique voice and sensibilities. This feels essential for us, and is a deep longing, a driver and a worthy pursuit.

For many artists this feeling of wanting to create work from an authentic place can become a preoccupation and can get in the way of utilizing art history, influence, and the broad scope of teachers and guides available to us.

But every artist begins to understand who they are as a creative by learning their craft and building on all that is available to them, and all that has come before. We are immersed in art history, and in recent years, social media has immersed us in an endless array of creative work by other artists. We can’t help but look, compare, and feel the powerful role of influence. 

So how do we harness this influence for our own artistic development? How do we remain clear on what is ours and what we’re taking that goes beyond that influence and treads into the territory of plagiarism? How do we respect the work of others while learning from them?

The quickest, most concise answer is to take what has inspired us and make it our own.

But let's break this down a bit further to understand the complexity of influence and how we can utilize it for our benefit, while protecting and honouring the creative process of others. It’s essential that we bring our integrity to the process. We can “steal like an artist,” but we shouldn’t take what is not ours to take. 

Every artist expends a great deal of time and energy as they commit to developing something new, while honing their skills so that the work they make carries their authentic voice, delivering it clearly and with impact.

Those artists put in the time and work, and it shows in the end result. If you simply copy what they did, it will fall flat and not feel connected, because it isn’t coming through you in the way that art needs to. It’s literally missing your authenticity, and that can be felt in the work. So it doesn’t serve our growth as artists to do this. But, it does serve us to notice the work that moves us, inspires us and work with that to discover more about our authentic voice – a voice that already resides within us.

No artist is immune from this effect of influence and has to find their own way of working with it for creative growth. In fact, as a beginner we spend a great deal of time learning from others through courses and instruction. Throughout our development as artists we may have influential teachers, mentors, or coaches helping us to achieve our desired place with our work and our art careers. It’s what we do with these powerful imprints of influence on our artistic development that makes all the difference for us.

While there may be a period of admiring, and even emulating a significant teacher or mentor, we need to find a way to utilize all that was given to us and innovate further. We need to bring our own creative potency to all that we have learned and absorbed and ask “what can I do with this now?”

We need to allow our authentic position to come forward and, more importantly, we need to respect it, trust it, and honour it when it does come through. Often there is a tendency to immediately compare what is coming forward for us in our creative work to others that are much further along than us. And when we do, we squash our budding authentic expression before it has had a chance to take form – before we have even let breathe.

When we compare ourselves and notice a feeling that perhaps we don’t measure up, we need to return to our focus and continue on with our work. If we let that comparison energy grow active within us we may seek relief by taking what isn’t ours. We look for the quick solution instead of innovating, trying and failing to find our way. Taking the easy path, by stealing another’s expression, will always leave us feeling unfulfilled, simply because we know it isn’t ours. 

But when we spend time considering the aspects of what inspires us and why, we can begin to transmute those influences through our own creative voice. The elements of what was inspiring for us then have room to grow in our work. 

Notice what you notice, and then take time to reflect and ask yourself what specifically is speaking to you. Then ask yourself a very important question that will help clarify the role of that influence: what am I specifically attracted to and what has it activated within me?

We are attracted to creative work for two distinct reasons. One is because it is so different from what we would do, we are attracted to that contrast. The other is because we are recognizing ourselves – our voice – in the work. We are literally seeing something that feels like us – we’re seeing ourselves, perhaps even in a new way.

So when you see another artist’s work that feels compelling, ask yourself if you are attracted because it’s different or because it feels like you. This will help you to stay focussed on influences that are awakening your authentic voice for you to connect with more deeply. This is the role of influence that can propel your work forward and help you strengthen your creative position within that work – your voice.

This process of finding ourselves in the work that inspires us is so helpful in guiding us towards a creative position in our work, but we have to put in the time and make that influence a jumping off point for our own innovation. Stealing like an artist is not the same as stealing an idea and doing the same thing in your own work or creative offering. Stealing like an artist means that we see something that reminds us of a quality that exists within ourselves and that needs and wants to be expressed. It’s in the discovery of “how” it is going to be expressed that makes it ours, while still honouring the artist who inspired us with their work or message.

When we take influence from another, it only becomes ours when we make it into something new that contains our unique expression, sensitivity, and commitment to that process. 

Influence is a potent driver for finding out even more about ourselves. In doing the necessary work that is required to maintain our artist’s integrity, we clear away everything that is not us in the process. We remain honest with ourselves and don’t simply choose the easy path of copying and overly appropriating another’s content or expression. 

While it is often said that everything has already been done and there is nothing truly new, it hasn’t been done by you, in your way, with your unique approach and techniques. This you can trust. 

When we focus our energy on knowing ourselves, meeting what arrives for us – both in our hearts and in our art-making – with the deepest compassion and acceptance, we would never want to be anything else other than who we truly are. We simply understand that this is the path – the creative path – and we get there by being truthful, aware, and committed to doing the hard work. There is no roadmap to follow, other than the one we are writing for ourselves through our integrity and commitment to creative wholeness. 

Be yourself. Make your work from that place. Use influence wisely and sensitively. If you have been influenced by another and it’s clearly showing up in your work, then credit that artist for the gift they offered you – they helped you to discover more about yourself as an artist.

Trust and commit to the path you have chosen. You are an artist, so steal like one.

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HEARING NO, FEELING NO – PART 2

In my last blog post I shared how we respond to hearing “no” and ways to work with the resulting emotions so that we can return to our purpose and use any rejection as creative fuel.

The other relationship we have to “no” is when we have a choice to make. It’s when we are weighing a decision, considering an opportunity – like submitting to a gallery or juried show – that we need to consider the internal “no” we may be feeling to ascertain its true source. I have, and I’m sure many of you have as well, been stopped by my internal “no” when it was likely a good choice for me to move toward that opportunity. 

Unfortunately, in considering the opportunity, I experienced a fear-based response to being out of my comfort zone. That feeling of uncertainty then led me away from what was actually a step towards what I said I wanted to pursue. This is a form of saying “no” to ourselves and our desires.

It can be helpful for us to remember that feelings of uncertainty can arrive naturally when faced with something new, and especially when it’s actually meaningful for us. If we want something deeply, we can be frightened of that desire and having that desire unmet. Perhaps in the past, we didn’t get our needs met or were told we didn’t deserve to have what we wanted. There can be any number of subsconscious narratives that can be activated when we move towards what we desire. 

That connection between our old script, and the uncertainty we feel, creates confusion for us and we tend to give energy to the feelings that are natural, making them bigger than they are. These feelings don’t need to stop us and are very different from the real clear “no” that results from assessing and making a decision based in our truth.

But how do we determine a clear “no” based on our truth, versus a fear-based response that we want to work with and allow ourselves to move through? 

Sometimes we are unclear about how we are truly feeling about an opportunity, and the waters can get muddy with our looping thoughts and mixed emotions. So we may need a little extra time to check in with ourselves to become more clear.

Reflective writing can be useful. As you consider the question or opportunity you are contemplating, begin to think about how to form a question for yourself to work with – or perhaps it is a series of questions you need to consider. For instance, you might ask yourself something like:

When I think of doing ______________, what do I notice? How do I feel? What thoughts are present? 

Often we get stumped trying to unravel a complicated set of feeling states, so just begin with your first thought, even if it seems silly or irrelevant. Think of it as an entry point to your inner knowing, not the actual answer you're after. Just notice what you’re aware of and begin to write about that. 

Next you may want to dig a little deeper into the feelings and thoughts that you have captured. Perhaps you have noticed that you are conflicted – on one hand you want to take this opportunity and on the other you feel anxious about it. 

Begin to meet both of these places within you and see which one feels stronger for you. Can you notice any difference? Does one call to you more? If you imagine missing the opportunity because you allowed your anxiety to stop you, how does that feel? Will you regret having said “no” to yourself? 

Another strategy that can help untangle these conflicting thoughts and feelings about a situation, or opportunity, is to focus on the quality of your energy – or your gut feeling – when you hold the question in your mind.

To do this, begin by sitting comfortably and focussing on your breathing, settling yourself as much as possible. Once you feel quieted and relaxed, bring your question or consideration into your mind. Just hold it there without trying to “think” about it or find the answer, just let it sit in your awareness. Then turn your attention to your body and notice how you feel as you hold this question. Is there tightness or weightiness anywhere in your body? Scan your body and notice any areas of tension or anxiety. Don’t try to figure out what you’re feeling or why, just identify it – a knot in my stomach, my jaw is clenched, a tightness in my throat, etc.

Again, hold your question or opportunity in your mind and now tune into your energy – your inner feeling state – and notice its quality. Does it feel expansive and flowing, or does it feel contracted and closed? Is there a feeling of opening when you think about the opportunity you’re considering, or is there an immediate restriction in your body – a tightness, or a weightiness? 

If there is a feeling of expansion or openness when you consider your question, then the anxiety you may be feeling around it may actually be excitement mixed with the very natural anticipation of encountering a new situation – the unknown is stirring up some discomfort.

We rarely feel fully at ease or ready to do something we’ve not done before or that has unknowable elements to it, so recognizing that this anxious, excited energy would naturally arise helps us to respond from this place of awareness and move towards what we’re after.

However, if the feeling that arrived for you as you considered this question, opportunity, or situation, was more of a contraction and you felt that immediate closing off of your energy, then it is very likely that you don’t want to do what it is you’re considering. This is really good information for you, and this process can really help bring clarity to the situation and allow you to move towards what you want, even when you notice that there is naturally some anxiety around it.

When we arrive at a clear “no” around this question, opportunity, or situation, we may then have to set a boundary with ourselves or with someone else to honour what we have uncovered. 

Setting boundaries can be uncomfortable for us, but it does get easier with practice. If you’re aware that this may be an area you could be stronger in then I encourage you to read up on working with boundaries and begin to normalize saying “no.”

Often when we are conflicted about something, we want to say “no” but feel that we can’t, or shouldn’t. For various reasons we may feel that to be a “good person” we should always try to say “yes” to what others request of us. Perhaps, in our life, saying “no” was dangerous or met with push-back from others. Or, like me, you may have developed a “people pleaser” personality to avoid conflict with others and remain safe. This personality type struggles to know how to honour themselves in the face of others' needs and requests. 

So as you can see, “no” is complicated for so many reasons. It often represents setting a boundary with someone, or with yourself. It often carries with it disappointment – the possibility of letting someone down, or abandoning ourselves. It’s loaded with a great deal of personal baggage and wrapped up in our history and experience with what we believe we deserve, are allowed, how we’ll be perceived.

But we can’t set a boundary with someone and take care of their feelings at the same time. We have to respectfully ask for what we need and let them have their reaction to that. If they’re not willing to respect our boundary then we have a choice to make about that relationship. 

For many of us, setting boundaries around our art-making time can be a challenge. And sometimes it’s setting a boundary with ourselves that is necessary – saying “no” to invitations, distractions, and setting our priorities. 

We often feel that our art-making is a privilege, something that we have to earn in some way – first we clear the obligations and responsibilities and then we can make our art. And yet, as artists, making our work is to us like water is to a fish – it’s what keeps us alive. 

If we don’t have healthy boundaries with others, we may not have healthy boundaries with ourselves. We make others the priority. The challenge for us is to recognize when we don't fully believe that we deserve to make our art, especially if we think that others are suffering because of our choice. This is our working edge and opportunity to feel the power of saying “no” so we can say “yes” to ourselves.

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HEARING NO, FEELING NO – PART 1

Lately I have been thinking about the ways we engage with limits, rejections, and hearing “no” – either from others, or from within ourselves. It’s a complicated relationship we have with “no,”as we typically associate it with a denied request or desire. We feel disappointed, and sometimes downright angry about being told we can’t have what we want. I’m flashing back to that feeling of being a young child and working so hard to get that “yes” – the magic “yes” that allowed me to have what my tiny heart desired. This relationship with “no” starts early for us and seems to carry some weight with it throughout most of our life.  

So how do we feel our way through hearing “no” in response to something we’re seeking? And, how does that differ from sensing and understanding an internal “no” when we’re considering a choice or opportunity. Both invite us to notice our reactivity to the sound of hearing “no” and perhaps experience it differently; more responsively. 

I recently made a submission to a local gallery, along with about 150 other artists. And, like many others have experienced, my work wasn’t accepted – I received a “no.” I was so happy to learn that a good friend of mine was accepted. She got the coveted "yes."

What was interesting to me was my internal response and how it has shifted from years past. Yes, I felt disappointed. That is a natural response to have after not receiving what we had hoped for. But what was noticeably different for me was how I wasn’t making this rejection personal. I wasn’t beating myself up with negative self-talk and feeling defeated.

This wasn’t always the case. It is a common challenge that artists face – managing their internal response to not having their work accepted for a show, a gallery, or not having it sell at an exhibition – which can feel like a quiet, sneaky “no.”

I think this relationship to “no” is an important one for us to pay attention to and work with. If we don’t consider how we respond to hearing “no,” we may find ourselves devastated by a rejection. This can then cast a shadow on the way we view our work, the risks we’ll take, the opportunities we will seek out, and the courage we need to stand back up and try again. 

When we make a rejection personal, we are saying to ourselves that we’re not good enough for that opportunity. That somehow we fell short and are flawed. There is little, if any, self-compassion extended towards ourselves, and our inner critics have a field day piling on the criticism and begin to chant “I told you so.” 

The truth is our ego may be a bit bruised by this rejection, that’s understandable. But when we allow that tenderness to be met with more self-punishment through negative self-talk and feelings of shame – “I must be a bad artist” – we crumble under that weight and decide it’s not worthwhile pursuing any further opportunities. After all, why would we want to feel this way again?  

Our ego recognizes that we’re vulnerable and its primary role is to prevent us from experiencing suffering. So in a moment of disappointment, like my denied gallery submission, it begins to protect us and drag us toward  places that will ensure that we are not risking this emotional suffering again. We then lack the emotional resilience we need to put ourselves out there again, and lose connection with that part of our creative work – sharing it with others. 

At these times, all kinds of mental games can begin, from comparing our work to others that were accepted, and tearing their work apart, to denying that we even wanted this in the first place. It’s a quagmire of emotional reactions that inflame the situation and make that “no” impossible to move past or utilize in any other way. 

One of our greatest needs as humans is the need for acceptance, and one of our greatest fears is of being rejected for who we are. It is base needs mechanics for survival, and runs very deep in our psychology. 

As artists we are facing this fear constantly as we create and share our work. We are committed to making our art, even when many others around us may not understand why we would make that choice. We dedicate hours of our time and resources to strengthen our skills and develop our work, much of the time receiving very little in return – either in feedback, recognition or sales. This is why, as I have written about before, we need an anchoring purpose for why we are making our work. It keeps us afloat when the external world doesn’t always offer us much back to acknowledge our efforts. So with all this at play, spending some time working on how you’ll meet a rejection is time really well spent. 

Whether you’re an actor auditioning for a role or an artist applying to a gallery, if we accept that hearing “no” is an inevitable and natural part of being a creative and wanting to share your expression with others, we then normalize it, expect it, and can prepare our mindset to meet it when it arrives. 

By strengthening our mindset skills through mindfulness, self-compassion, and reflective writing, we can help ourselves to be better at managing our feelings when we hear “no.” Here are some things to work with and consider – and some of the inner discussion I had with myself when I received my recent “no”:

It’s Not Always About You – Many of the opportunities we take as artists are based on a selection process with a criteria that we are not aware of, or can control. Gallerists consider many things in their selection process – the artists they already have in their roster, the clientele they cater to, their personal preference, and the gallery mandate. If your work didn’t make the cut, there could be many other reasons beyond the reason you’re giving energy to. It may have nothing to do with the quality of your work, and it doesn't mean you are not good enough.

You Took Action – There is great reward in taking the necessary steps to submit your work, make your application and risk being judged by others. That in itself is a win, regardless of the outcome. This is where self-compassion and the ability to recognize yourself for the risk you took is so valuable, and is what will help you to do it again. Can you acknowledge that you took action in pursuit of your goal and that is meaningful?

Failure is Creative Fuel – As artists we need to be extraordinarily comfortable with failure and actually harness it for our creative growth. We know this aspect of making our work and what it has to offer us. Through embracing failure we discover, innovate and build new creative territory. What if we applied this same thinking to marketing our work, applying to galleries, and making applications? What if receiving a “no” could be harnessed as creative fuel, and motivated us to try again from this informed place? Yes, we may need some time to feel the disappointment, but it’s what we do next that is so important.

Make it Normal – When we normalize something, we don’t typically have strong reactions or feel that we are inherently flawed in response to it. We instead recognize that this is something a lot of other artists experience too. In fact, many well known artists, writers and musicians experienced multiple rejections before landing that breakthrough opportunity. If hearing “no” is just something that happens and not a roadblock loaded with baggage about your abilities or worth, then you’ll move through it much more easily and get back to work.

Detach From Outcomes – Just as we do in the creative process, we need to let go of being invested and attached to the outcome. And when we are, often something more amazing arrives for us – something we couldn’t have expected. This requires trust. We trust that if we received a “no” then that means we’re headed somewhere else…and that destination is not yet known. There is every possibility that it could be even better than what we were first shooting for. 

Be Your Own Cheerleader – What would you tell a dear friend who had just received a “no” and was struggling to accept it? How would you support that friend? Can you offer the same to yourself right now? We often say things to ourselves that we would never say to anyone else – harsh words, criticism, even condemnations. And words matter, whether we’re saying them to others or to ourselves. While it may feel a bit unnatural, and even silly, spending time writing a note of support to yourself can be equally as powerful as those negative messages. We talk to ourselves all the time, so why not give ourselves a good pep talk or a compassionate message of self-support. Perhaps there is a supportive, nurturing part of you that can speak to the part of you that feels small, rejected, and unsure. What can you say to yourself that helps you to feel better and allows you to return to a place of balance again?

Get Back in The Game – As soon as possible after the rejection, get back to making your creative work. Begin to work on your next proposal or submission. You’ll miss 100% of the shots you don’t take, and often it takes a lot of shots to hit that goal. So begin again, knowing that the more you try the more likely you are to succeed. By returning to the making of your art you are also sending a clear message to yourself that art-making is not dependent on external circumstances, but only on your desire to live your purpose. 

How We Meet Hard Things is Important – It’s easy to be peaceful and balanced when things are going well. The real test for us is what we do in response to discomfort – to things being less than ideal. Often we want to avoid what’s hard. It’s natural and hardwired in. So we can assume that will be our tendency and can be mindful of that. With that awareness we can remind ourselves of our commitment to wellbeing and meet the emotional charge with compassion to help it regulate within us. Our stress can be mitigated when we practice meeting the hard things more sensitively and with care.

In my next post I’ll explore the aspect of feeling “no '' which helps us discern the truth about our feelings, allowing us to find clarity and set boundaries – with others and ourselves.

Prefer to listen? Click on the link below to listen to and/or download the audio version of this Blog post