Finding Safety in Creativity

My week one reflections on The Artist's Way.

The following are my reflections on Week 1 of doing The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. I’ll be posting periodic updates on my journey as I go.

---

It’s taken me almost two weeks to finish Week 1 of The Artist’s Way because of many factors, most of them involving travel, work, planning our first Dreambridge writing workshop, and… me not making enough time for myself to do the exercises each day. But I’m here now, fresh from my first check-in, ready to share what I’ve learned.

The most powerful, and uncomfortable, part of the first week was finally naming the voice in my head keeping me blocked from connecting to my creativity—The Censor.

Stop Censoring Yourself

It’s the voice telling you “it’s stupid/useless/unproductive/sinful to pursue your creativity” and proceeds to shut down any of your meager hopes at getting in touch with your creative self again. It “blurts” out some fear-based drivel every time you start thinking to yourself “hey, I can do this Artist thing”, reminding you of the boundaries of your comfort zone and all the danger that lies beyond it.

These “shoulds”—one of the ways my Censor manifests itself to block my creative urges—came up for me today:

I should be the perfect example of someone doing The Artist’s Way because I’m posting about my journey online. I can’t be messy.

I should do my exercises every day or I’m a failure.

I should be posting more on Substack, writing my novel, etc. with every spare second I have in my day.

If I don’t, I’ll never amount to anything and all of my effort up till this point will be worthless.

There’s an “all or nothing” quality to these blurts that fascinate me. When I take a step back and actually recognize this language as 1) not in service to me and 2) coming from a place of fear, the absolutes and ultimatums feel ridiculous. My goal is to recognize how many times my brain thinks I “should” be doing something, and try to do the opposite (within reason, of course—I’m not about to quit my job and move to Italy. Unless…).

I won’t deny that the standards I hold myself to are incredibly high. Each time I think I’ve reached to the top, the next standard appears above me, the climb steeper than the last. The higher I scale this infinite ladder of perfectionist tendencies, the scarier it is to look down.

If I stop now, it’s all for nothing.

Words that normally serve my ambition are transformed into a self-deprecating comment that tamps down any hope I have for living a creative, fulfilled life.

The key is to transmute these self-deprecating lines directly into affirmations, and to read them through as many times as it takes for the Censor to pipe down and the TRUTH to sink in.

A few examples:

I don’t have time to do this.

I have plenty of time to do this.

There’s not enough space for me.

There’s plenty of space for me, and others, too.

My creativity only matters if there’s other people there to enjoy it.

My creativity matters to ME, whether others are involved or not.

It’s not worth writing because nobody will read it anyway.

My creative worthiness is independent of other’s actions and opinions.

I’m not gonna lie to you: it’s hard to do this.

Typically, I pride myself on being an optimist who wholeheartedly believes in self-love, the power of manifestation, and the general “what is meant for you will not pass you by” philosophy. So color me surprised when my own subconscious snapped at me like a wounded animal.

The discomfort doesn’t end there, no siree. See, this week is about cultivating “Safety” in engaging with your creative self. Which means you need to take a good, hard look at all the things that make you feel unsafe to creatively express.

Why?

Monsters and Champions

It was time to create my personal Monster Hall of Fame—list out all the people and their specific words or actions that made themselves “enemies to my creative self-worth.”

Some surprising and not-so-surprising people came to mind for me—quite a few English teachers I had in elementary and middle school were pretty mean, intentional or not. I found that some people occupied both lists, for different reasons. But ultimately, taking a step back and realizing that the wounds inflicted by my Monsters—however deep or shallow they may be—make up the chorus of voices within the Censor. The judgment, the “not good enough”-isms that contribute to my perfectionism, all stifle my creativity.

On the opposite end, I made a list of my Champions—the people who support my creative expression. The people who complimented my writing, singing, dancing, acting; anyone who said anything positive about my creativity or my presence is fair game. These are real words people have spoken to me about how my creativity has inspired them, moved them, or delighted them in some way. I treasure this list.

I realized: I have more Champions for my creativity than I do Monsters. And yet, the Monster voices were getting all of my headspace, shoving the good words aside.

Well, that stops now. The negative self-talk goes deep, and I know it’ll only get louder the more I venture into the unknown territory of re-discovering my creative spark amidst the chaos of this crazy world. I’ve lifted up the carpet to see all the dust that’s gathered underneath. Now, it’s time to sweep it up and out, clearing space for light to come back in.

Discomfort is part of growth. And growing through discomfort, feeling the pain and fear and doing the hard thing anyway, is the only way we can ever achieve our dreams.

Easier said than done.

One step at a time.

---