Caroline Allen's Blog - Posts Tagged "creativity"
5 Easy Steps to Move from Anxiety to Creativity
Years ago, a journalist friend in Seattle came over to my apartment. She’d just returned from Afghanistan, where she was responsible for setting up a newsroom and training local journalists. When she arrived, she was so exhausted and drained to her very core, she could barely walk or talk.
I knew the feeling. I’d given up journalism a few years earlier because it had sucked me dry, too. And by going to Afghanistan, she’d experienced an intensity I could only imagine.
She went immediately to the sofa and lay prone, barely able to lift her arms or sit up.
I’m an empath. It is my natural tendency to want to help. I’m psychic, and it’s my natural tendency to go for the core solution. I knew somewhere deep down, like me, that Lisa was an artist.
I grabbed a long narrow canvas from the corner — my apartment was also my art studio — and placed it on the floor next to the sofa. I found a squirt bottle full of paint, and put it in her hand.
“What are you doing?” she said, barely opening her mouth to speak.
“Just squirt on the canvas,” I said.
“What?”
“It’ll make you feel better. Just squirt some paint.”
Without sitting up or changing position, she tipped the bottle and drew lazy lines on the canvas. Without moving, she painted.
Years later, she would become the visual artist she was meant to be.
My friend’s trauma reminded me of the kind of incapacitating grief, anxiety and depression that I went through years earlier. And it reminds me of the anxiety and grief many people are going through today because of the global pandemic, forest fires, race and gender inequities, death of loved ones…
I write about the dark night of the soul and the creative recovery I experienced in the 1990s in my recently released novel,Water.
* * *
When I awaken midmorning, the “fever” has broken. My bones are jelly; I’m cleaned out. I lie there in nothingness—no money, no family, no friends, no job. It is just me. I cross my hands over my naked heart. All I have is myself. All I have is my integrity.
Integrity is the word that remains with me. I struggle aboard it like a life raft. I promise myself I’ll hold onto integrity for the rest of my life, the only thing that floats in a sea of chaos.
I get up. In the junk drawer in the kitchen, I find the Post-it notes and a pen. Back on the edge of the futon, I write “Get out of bed every day” on a pink Post-it and place it on the window where I can see it.
“Make the bed every day,” I write on a lemon note. This too goes on the window.
“Brush your hair every day.” I take the few steps to the bathroom and place the lime note on the doorframe. My thick black hair is difficult at the best of times but now is hard, matted, and tangled.
I sit back down, tired. “Brush your teeth every day.” I put this sapphire square also on the bathroom doorframe.
“Did you shower today?” Orange, bathroom doorframe.
“Change your clothes.” Violet and on the closet door in the living room, which is also my bedroom.
A long, narrow hallway leads back to a small kitchen. I place at intervals along the hallway:
“Eat every day.”
“Did you have breakfast?”
“Did you eat enough today?”
“What food have you put into your mouth today?”
I pepper other multihued Post-its throughout the tiny apartment. “Clean the kitchen.” “Sweep the floor.” “Do laundry.”
I lie back on the futon. I cannot move for an hour. Finally, I reach over and grab a stack of Post-its, write “Get out of bed” again. On ten more Post-its I write “Get out of bed.” Still lying down, I reach to place them on nearby surfaces: bed frame, wall, side table, hardwood. I understand that this decision to live will take more than just an idea. I know that living will require concerted participation.
Later I wake up from a dream where I’m told to add one more note: “Drink water. Lots of water.” I write it on a powder-blue Post-it and put it on the fridge.
I look around. My home has become a rainbow of messages willing me to survive.
* * *
Even when you don’t feel like it, even when everything is falling apart around you, even if you take just the smallest steps, you can move from depression to creative recovery. Here are five super simple tips:
1. Start small. Not just small, but tiny. Do one tiny thing. Write one sentence in a journal. One word. Start on the sofa. Start in bed. You don’t even need to get up. Or take a notebook and ballpoint and doodle. Draw spirals. Don’t even write a word or draw a picture, just move the pen. Any movement is progress and will lead to more movement.
2. Look through an art book. Read short stories. You can do this from your bed or the sofa if you need to. In your mind, explore what you like in certain paintings and stories and ask yourself why. This will engage the creative part of your brain. Try it. It works. I promise.
3. If you’re feeling a bit more energetic, still staying right where you are: Look up the drawing of a simple object, like a tea cup. Don’t look up a tea cup, look up a “drawing” of a tea cup…it’ll be easier that way. Redraw the drawing in a notebook. Don’t worry about having fancy papers or pens, just use a notebook. This is the simplest way to get back into drawing. Draw a pencil. A book. A car. A face.
4. Rework something you’ve already done. Without the energy to create something new, I take what I’ve already done and rework them. An old short story you put aside — just read it. At this stage, you don’t even have to write anything, unless you feel the urge. Just read it. I take old paintings and repaint them. I also take old paintings, take their photos, print them out and create collages from them. Don’t create something new if you don’t have the energy. Rework something old.
5. Finger paint. Move your fingers around in paint. This re-engages the child artist within us all. This is a powerful, visceral exercise.
Take small steps. Any movement is movement.
Once you engage that creative side of your brain, watch for the parting of the clouds. Let it be. Don’t have expectations, just observe. See if you don’t have a bit more energy with each tiny step you take.
Many of us have gone through similar phases and come out the other side. You will get through this and come out the other side the powerful creative person you really are.
I’m a metaphysical coach. Check out more at carolineallen.com.
I knew the feeling. I’d given up journalism a few years earlier because it had sucked me dry, too. And by going to Afghanistan, she’d experienced an intensity I could only imagine.
She went immediately to the sofa and lay prone, barely able to lift her arms or sit up.
I’m an empath. It is my natural tendency to want to help. I’m psychic, and it’s my natural tendency to go for the core solution. I knew somewhere deep down, like me, that Lisa was an artist.
I grabbed a long narrow canvas from the corner — my apartment was also my art studio — and placed it on the floor next to the sofa. I found a squirt bottle full of paint, and put it in her hand.
“What are you doing?” she said, barely opening her mouth to speak.
“Just squirt on the canvas,” I said.
“What?”
“It’ll make you feel better. Just squirt some paint.”
Without sitting up or changing position, she tipped the bottle and drew lazy lines on the canvas. Without moving, she painted.
Years later, she would become the visual artist she was meant to be.
My friend’s trauma reminded me of the kind of incapacitating grief, anxiety and depression that I went through years earlier. And it reminds me of the anxiety and grief many people are going through today because of the global pandemic, forest fires, race and gender inequities, death of loved ones…
I write about the dark night of the soul and the creative recovery I experienced in the 1990s in my recently released novel,Water.
* * *
When I awaken midmorning, the “fever” has broken. My bones are jelly; I’m cleaned out. I lie there in nothingness—no money, no family, no friends, no job. It is just me. I cross my hands over my naked heart. All I have is myself. All I have is my integrity.
Integrity is the word that remains with me. I struggle aboard it like a life raft. I promise myself I’ll hold onto integrity for the rest of my life, the only thing that floats in a sea of chaos.
I get up. In the junk drawer in the kitchen, I find the Post-it notes and a pen. Back on the edge of the futon, I write “Get out of bed every day” on a pink Post-it and place it on the window where I can see it.
“Make the bed every day,” I write on a lemon note. This too goes on the window.
“Brush your hair every day.” I take the few steps to the bathroom and place the lime note on the doorframe. My thick black hair is difficult at the best of times but now is hard, matted, and tangled.
I sit back down, tired. “Brush your teeth every day.” I put this sapphire square also on the bathroom doorframe.
“Did you shower today?” Orange, bathroom doorframe.
“Change your clothes.” Violet and on the closet door in the living room, which is also my bedroom.
A long, narrow hallway leads back to a small kitchen. I place at intervals along the hallway:
“Eat every day.”
“Did you have breakfast?”
“Did you eat enough today?”
“What food have you put into your mouth today?”
I pepper other multihued Post-its throughout the tiny apartment. “Clean the kitchen.” “Sweep the floor.” “Do laundry.”
I lie back on the futon. I cannot move for an hour. Finally, I reach over and grab a stack of Post-its, write “Get out of bed” again. On ten more Post-its I write “Get out of bed.” Still lying down, I reach to place them on nearby surfaces: bed frame, wall, side table, hardwood. I understand that this decision to live will take more than just an idea. I know that living will require concerted participation.
Later I wake up from a dream where I’m told to add one more note: “Drink water. Lots of water.” I write it on a powder-blue Post-it and put it on the fridge.
I look around. My home has become a rainbow of messages willing me to survive.
* * *
Even when you don’t feel like it, even when everything is falling apart around you, even if you take just the smallest steps, you can move from depression to creative recovery. Here are five super simple tips:
1. Start small. Not just small, but tiny. Do one tiny thing. Write one sentence in a journal. One word. Start on the sofa. Start in bed. You don’t even need to get up. Or take a notebook and ballpoint and doodle. Draw spirals. Don’t even write a word or draw a picture, just move the pen. Any movement is progress and will lead to more movement.
2. Look through an art book. Read short stories. You can do this from your bed or the sofa if you need to. In your mind, explore what you like in certain paintings and stories and ask yourself why. This will engage the creative part of your brain. Try it. It works. I promise.
3. If you’re feeling a bit more energetic, still staying right where you are: Look up the drawing of a simple object, like a tea cup. Don’t look up a tea cup, look up a “drawing” of a tea cup…it’ll be easier that way. Redraw the drawing in a notebook. Don’t worry about having fancy papers or pens, just use a notebook. This is the simplest way to get back into drawing. Draw a pencil. A book. A car. A face.
4. Rework something you’ve already done. Without the energy to create something new, I take what I’ve already done and rework them. An old short story you put aside — just read it. At this stage, you don’t even have to write anything, unless you feel the urge. Just read it. I take old paintings and repaint them. I also take old paintings, take their photos, print them out and create collages from them. Don’t create something new if you don’t have the energy. Rework something old.
5. Finger paint. Move your fingers around in paint. This re-engages the child artist within us all. This is a powerful, visceral exercise.
Take small steps. Any movement is movement.
Once you engage that creative side of your brain, watch for the parting of the clouds. Let it be. Don’t have expectations, just observe. See if you don’t have a bit more energy with each tiny step you take.
Many of us have gone through similar phases and come out the other side. You will get through this and come out the other side the powerful creative person you really are.
I’m a metaphysical coach. Check out more at carolineallen.com.
The Five Stages of Finding Purpose
I believe when you’re called to purpose, and when you answer that call, you become one of the healers of the world. As you align yourself with your higher calling, you become an example to others. Often the call we answer goes further than just finding ourselves. Often we’re called to go out and help others. I describe this call to purpose as I follow one protagonist around the world in the coming of age series I’m writing called The Elemental Journey Series, especially in the most recent novel, Water.
On my own path, and in my work as a coach, I see very clearly how following the call to purpose aligns with the five stages of grief:
Denial
Anger
Bargaining
Depression
Acceptance
These are exactly what one goes through in owning and living purpose. There was a reason we put away our dreams as a child, and when we’re called to purpose, those dreams resurface and all of the grief and fear of “giving up on ourselves” rises to the surface. We want to close that drawer, not look at how much we’ve lost.
Read my story to get an even better idea of how these stages have played out in my life, in finding my calling as a novelist, visual artist and coach to others. Here are the five stages of grief as they apply to finding purpose:
Denial
The gods knock. If you ignore them, they’ll knock again, and again and again. And if you ignore that, their knocking will become the clash of mythological fists against the rock of your resistance.
You pushed her down into your belly, and now she wants out. At first, you put your head down and get back to your normal job, your normal day and pretend she isn’t wailing beneath the surface.
Many people know my story of denial. I was so unhappy. Depressed. Living in rainy Seattle, roaming around lost. I was given a tarot reading and was told: “You are a visual artist.” I snorted, chin in hand. There went $65 down the drain. Afterwards, I roamed the Capitol Hill district, smoking cigarettes, in a dark funk.
It would take five more years before I’d pick up a paintbrush and start my career as a visual artist. I was an artist as a little girl, winning awards almost every time I entered a show. I’d forgotten about her, buried her deep inside. My parents roared against the concept of me becoming an artist. What do you want to become a bag lady? It wasn’t stated, but implied. Art was something you gave up. Like hope. Like your heart.
Anger
With the call to purpose comes a rage so monstrous you cannot breathe. How dare I be put in a straight jacket for 30, 40, 50 years? How DARE you make me hate my life for so long, parents, school system, unfair economic system.
We are enraged with ourselves for wasting so much time, half our lives. We are enraged with parents who themselves didn’t follow their purpose, who didn’t have the courage to nurture themselves first, and then the wherewithal to nurture us.
Oh, how we’d rather not feel so much rage. Oh, we’ll self medicate, or use pharmaceuticals or play online games for hours, anything but to FEEL. We must honor the anger. It’s one of our best friends. It’s pointing the way to our transformation.
I’ll tell you, my rage was so epic it could’ve destroyed whole cities. I wonder sometimes if all the world’s rage doesn’t come down to this, all the war and crime and destruction: Are we so angry because we’ve been told we must lose ourselves that we’d prefer to destroy the entire planet than look at ourselves?
Bargaining
I gave up journalism to follow my path of bliss as an artist. I worked in newsrooms in Tokyo and London. People picked up when I called. I jet-setted around Asia and Europe. Doors opened for me.
When I gave up journalism, I gave up the perks too. I gave up London, one of my favorite cities on the planet. I gave up travel. I gave up seeing my name in print all of the time.
I didn’t know that exploring myself would be so hard. I started writing fiction and expected to have a book published in five years. Hilarious! Apparently finding one’s lost self takes a lot longer than five years.
So, fed up with how hard it all was, I got another job in journalism, at the Seattle Post-Intelligencer Newspaper. I bargained with the gods: Just let me do this for a while, get my ego back, have a wild life like I used to. OK? Please?
Within two months, I was sitting at the monitor in the newsroom, when both of my arms went dead. Thoracic Outlet Syndrome. It would take three months of intense physical therapy to be able to move my arms at all. It would take another 10 years to heal it. I would never work in a newsroom again.
Bargaining is when you try to go back to the boyfriend you broke up, and it all becomes much worse than it was before and you have to extract yourself again.
Bargaining is necessary. We have to learn the hard way, that there is no way out to the other side but through.
Depression
You want to follow your purpose, but it’s so hard. You don’t have any extra money, you’ve lost your old lifestyle, you outgrew people on your journey toward authentic self. You’re alone. It’s too hard. The world is so horribly messed up.
You’re right. The journey is difficult. The world is a mess. You’re depressed because it IS all depressing.
I believe in the darkness. I am not one of those people who asks people to deny their depression. I believe this darkness can be a very honest friend. It’s only when it goes on too long that it’s a problem. Only then do we need to get up, exercise our bodies, go to an art gallery, do whatever it takes to move the energy, so we can get on with the hard work of living our purpose.
Acceptance
How can you get to a place of acceptance? This is your path and you’re going to commit to it, despite the ups and downs and financial insecurity and loss of friends. If you’re like me, you cycled through anger and depression and bargaining for a long time. I want to accept this path fully. How? Shaking fist at the heavens. How?
The world NEEDS you. You’re a hero. You know it deep in your soul. This is what it means to be a hero. We’re globally flushing ourselves down a toilet, and we need you to find your way, so you can show others the way out of the whirlpool of destruction.
How do you accept this path? I have found re-scripting your life story into a heroic journey goes a long way toward acceptance. Look at the events of your life from the perspective of compassion for all parties. We’ve all been duped in giving up our souls. Have compassion for yourself: this is a heroic, epic journey you’re on, and nobody ever said it was going to be easy. Here are some examples of re-scripting:
My parents were so hard on me. “Look at how hard my parents were on themselves. They were so frightened of their own creative spirit. In healing myself, I begin to heal my family from this great loss of self.”
I can’t stand my job. “My soul so deeply wants to follow its authentic purpose, and the love for this call to purpose is so great, no ‘normal’ job is going to make me happy.”
I hate being so broke as I figure out how to align my passion with making money. “I am part of a new paradigm that is going to change the entire world, away from doing work we hate, to doing work we love. I’m part of that exciting new paradigm, and I’m working hard to find my way.”
My husband/boyfriend left me. “As I become more authentically aligned, I will outgrow people. This is why this is the heroic path. It takes courage to grow. I have tremendous courage.”
Of course, you won’t go through the above stages in linear fashion, and you won’t only cycle through them once. The good news is this: If you’re now answering the call to purpose and really going through it hard (most of us have found this to be the most difficult thing we’ve ever done), know this: It will change. You’ll still have the hard times, but you get used to it, you learn how to ride the waves. You start to see what a difference you’re making in your own life and the lives of others, and that gives you the boost of confidence and energy to keep going.
I will not diminish how hard this path is. But I will say: You are doing what you were put on this planet to fulfill. You are living a life you can look back on with deep pride and deepest gratitude. You are saving the world. And isn’t that worth it?
I'm a creativity coach and a book coach. carolineallen.com,
On my own path, and in my work as a coach, I see very clearly how following the call to purpose aligns with the five stages of grief:
Denial
Anger
Bargaining
Depression
Acceptance
These are exactly what one goes through in owning and living purpose. There was a reason we put away our dreams as a child, and when we’re called to purpose, those dreams resurface and all of the grief and fear of “giving up on ourselves” rises to the surface. We want to close that drawer, not look at how much we’ve lost.
Read my story to get an even better idea of how these stages have played out in my life, in finding my calling as a novelist, visual artist and coach to others. Here are the five stages of grief as they apply to finding purpose:
Denial
The gods knock. If you ignore them, they’ll knock again, and again and again. And if you ignore that, their knocking will become the clash of mythological fists against the rock of your resistance.
You pushed her down into your belly, and now she wants out. At first, you put your head down and get back to your normal job, your normal day and pretend she isn’t wailing beneath the surface.
Many people know my story of denial. I was so unhappy. Depressed. Living in rainy Seattle, roaming around lost. I was given a tarot reading and was told: “You are a visual artist.” I snorted, chin in hand. There went $65 down the drain. Afterwards, I roamed the Capitol Hill district, smoking cigarettes, in a dark funk.
It would take five more years before I’d pick up a paintbrush and start my career as a visual artist. I was an artist as a little girl, winning awards almost every time I entered a show. I’d forgotten about her, buried her deep inside. My parents roared against the concept of me becoming an artist. What do you want to become a bag lady? It wasn’t stated, but implied. Art was something you gave up. Like hope. Like your heart.
Anger
With the call to purpose comes a rage so monstrous you cannot breathe. How dare I be put in a straight jacket for 30, 40, 50 years? How DARE you make me hate my life for so long, parents, school system, unfair economic system.
We are enraged with ourselves for wasting so much time, half our lives. We are enraged with parents who themselves didn’t follow their purpose, who didn’t have the courage to nurture themselves first, and then the wherewithal to nurture us.
Oh, how we’d rather not feel so much rage. Oh, we’ll self medicate, or use pharmaceuticals or play online games for hours, anything but to FEEL. We must honor the anger. It’s one of our best friends. It’s pointing the way to our transformation.
I’ll tell you, my rage was so epic it could’ve destroyed whole cities. I wonder sometimes if all the world’s rage doesn’t come down to this, all the war and crime and destruction: Are we so angry because we’ve been told we must lose ourselves that we’d prefer to destroy the entire planet than look at ourselves?
Bargaining
I gave up journalism to follow my path of bliss as an artist. I worked in newsrooms in Tokyo and London. People picked up when I called. I jet-setted around Asia and Europe. Doors opened for me.
When I gave up journalism, I gave up the perks too. I gave up London, one of my favorite cities on the planet. I gave up travel. I gave up seeing my name in print all of the time.
I didn’t know that exploring myself would be so hard. I started writing fiction and expected to have a book published in five years. Hilarious! Apparently finding one’s lost self takes a lot longer than five years.
So, fed up with how hard it all was, I got another job in journalism, at the Seattle Post-Intelligencer Newspaper. I bargained with the gods: Just let me do this for a while, get my ego back, have a wild life like I used to. OK? Please?
Within two months, I was sitting at the monitor in the newsroom, when both of my arms went dead. Thoracic Outlet Syndrome. It would take three months of intense physical therapy to be able to move my arms at all. It would take another 10 years to heal it. I would never work in a newsroom again.
Bargaining is when you try to go back to the boyfriend you broke up, and it all becomes much worse than it was before and you have to extract yourself again.
Bargaining is necessary. We have to learn the hard way, that there is no way out to the other side but through.
Depression
You want to follow your purpose, but it’s so hard. You don’t have any extra money, you’ve lost your old lifestyle, you outgrew people on your journey toward authentic self. You’re alone. It’s too hard. The world is so horribly messed up.
You’re right. The journey is difficult. The world is a mess. You’re depressed because it IS all depressing.
I believe in the darkness. I am not one of those people who asks people to deny their depression. I believe this darkness can be a very honest friend. It’s only when it goes on too long that it’s a problem. Only then do we need to get up, exercise our bodies, go to an art gallery, do whatever it takes to move the energy, so we can get on with the hard work of living our purpose.
Acceptance
How can you get to a place of acceptance? This is your path and you’re going to commit to it, despite the ups and downs and financial insecurity and loss of friends. If you’re like me, you cycled through anger and depression and bargaining for a long time. I want to accept this path fully. How? Shaking fist at the heavens. How?
The world NEEDS you. You’re a hero. You know it deep in your soul. This is what it means to be a hero. We’re globally flushing ourselves down a toilet, and we need you to find your way, so you can show others the way out of the whirlpool of destruction.
How do you accept this path? I have found re-scripting your life story into a heroic journey goes a long way toward acceptance. Look at the events of your life from the perspective of compassion for all parties. We’ve all been duped in giving up our souls. Have compassion for yourself: this is a heroic, epic journey you’re on, and nobody ever said it was going to be easy. Here are some examples of re-scripting:
My parents were so hard on me. “Look at how hard my parents were on themselves. They were so frightened of their own creative spirit. In healing myself, I begin to heal my family from this great loss of self.”
I can’t stand my job. “My soul so deeply wants to follow its authentic purpose, and the love for this call to purpose is so great, no ‘normal’ job is going to make me happy.”
I hate being so broke as I figure out how to align my passion with making money. “I am part of a new paradigm that is going to change the entire world, away from doing work we hate, to doing work we love. I’m part of that exciting new paradigm, and I’m working hard to find my way.”
My husband/boyfriend left me. “As I become more authentically aligned, I will outgrow people. This is why this is the heroic path. It takes courage to grow. I have tremendous courage.”
Of course, you won’t go through the above stages in linear fashion, and you won’t only cycle through them once. The good news is this: If you’re now answering the call to purpose and really going through it hard (most of us have found this to be the most difficult thing we’ve ever done), know this: It will change. You’ll still have the hard times, but you get used to it, you learn how to ride the waves. You start to see what a difference you’re making in your own life and the lives of others, and that gives you the boost of confidence and energy to keep going.
I will not diminish how hard this path is. But I will say: You are doing what you were put on this planet to fulfill. You are living a life you can look back on with deep pride and deepest gratitude. You are saving the world. And isn’t that worth it?
I'm a creativity coach and a book coach. carolineallen.com,
Creative Surrender
The greatest part of the work I do as a coach is to help people excavate their authentic creative voices.
The biggest issue I see is that we've been taught for so many years to use our brains and our wills to create that we've lost the ability to just "be" on the page or on the canvas.
Answer these questions:
Who are you?
What do you love?
What inspires you?
What juices you?
What brings you deep peace?
What brings you hope for humanity?
Then put yourself daily around the answers to the above questions. Do this for three months, and watch your world and your writing/art transform.
Let yourself create from the center of your being.
I'm working on a middle grade novel formerly called Maisie Grace, now called Blue. It's about a deeply empathic girl named Maisie whose best friend is a tree named Blue. Maisie and the tree are psychic. The novel also explores art and bullying and death and connection.
It's a novel about reconnecting with nature, one tree at a time. Our disconnection from nature and each other didn't just start with the pandemic. Our reconnection must be a conscious act.
Surrender
I'm sure the writers reading this know about how the characters can take over and tell the story, as if you, the writer, has no control. Well this seems to be happening with this novel. Not only are they writing it, they came in my dreams and asked to be painted. As I create their images in acrylic ink, marker, and acrylic paint, even here they won't let me have the control. They paint themselves through my hands.
In many Eastern spiritual traditions they speak of "surrender". Surrendering to a higher power is the hardest possible thing for the Western independent in-control mind to accept. Many of us were given religious training that didn't sit well with us, so the concept of spiritual surrender feels like surrendering to a white male vengeful god. I get it. I was there, too.
Spiritual surrender, though, will give you everything, absolutely everything, you want out of life. We align our wills with a higher creative power and nothing can stop us.
For any type of artist, surrendering is the most powerful turning point in your creative career. Surrendering spiritually is just the same as channeling the muse.
When you let go into this higher creative force, what you create is far beyond your personal gifts and talents and skillsets. Your art becomes greater than the sum of its parts. What you create becomes magical and full of spirit.
Caroline Allen, author of the award-winning Elemental Journey series.
The biggest issue I see is that we've been taught for so many years to use our brains and our wills to create that we've lost the ability to just "be" on the page or on the canvas.
Answer these questions:
Who are you?
What do you love?
What inspires you?
What juices you?
What brings you deep peace?
What brings you hope for humanity?
Then put yourself daily around the answers to the above questions. Do this for three months, and watch your world and your writing/art transform.
Let yourself create from the center of your being.
I'm working on a middle grade novel formerly called Maisie Grace, now called Blue. It's about a deeply empathic girl named Maisie whose best friend is a tree named Blue. Maisie and the tree are psychic. The novel also explores art and bullying and death and connection.
It's a novel about reconnecting with nature, one tree at a time. Our disconnection from nature and each other didn't just start with the pandemic. Our reconnection must be a conscious act.
Surrender
I'm sure the writers reading this know about how the characters can take over and tell the story, as if you, the writer, has no control. Well this seems to be happening with this novel. Not only are they writing it, they came in my dreams and asked to be painted. As I create their images in acrylic ink, marker, and acrylic paint, even here they won't let me have the control. They paint themselves through my hands.
In many Eastern spiritual traditions they speak of "surrender". Surrendering to a higher power is the hardest possible thing for the Western independent in-control mind to accept. Many of us were given religious training that didn't sit well with us, so the concept of spiritual surrender feels like surrendering to a white male vengeful god. I get it. I was there, too.
Spiritual surrender, though, will give you everything, absolutely everything, you want out of life. We align our wills with a higher creative power and nothing can stop us.
For any type of artist, surrendering is the most powerful turning point in your creative career. Surrendering spiritually is just the same as channeling the muse.
When you let go into this higher creative force, what you create is far beyond your personal gifts and talents and skillsets. Your art becomes greater than the sum of its parts. What you create becomes magical and full of spirit.
Caroline Allen, author of the award-winning Elemental Journey series.
Clear the Residue of Past Lives and Step into Your Creative Power
I am lounging in a lush green recliner in an office near Greenlake, Seattle, a narrow pillow over my eyes. Urban mystic Judith Laxer has one hand on my ankle. In the other hand she’s shaking a small gourd rattle. Her eyes are closed. Every once in a while she opens them to write notes on a pad.
Judith is performing a shamanic journey to help me answer the question: “How can I fully own my power as an artist?”
The journey is quicker than usual. She comes out of the trance, puts down the rattle, makes a few more notes, and we move to chairs at a round table in the middle of the room.
She dives right in. I have worked with Judith for 25 years, and we no longer need a lot of explanation in our work together. “Snake took me straight to a past life. To a dungeon where you were brought and left to starve to death for being an artist,” she says.
This resonates. I can feel it’s true. My stomach growls.
For those of you reading this who are not familiar with shamanic work, for those who think that snake spirit teachers and past lives in dungeons seems too odd, I can relate. I was an international journalist before I was called to the life of a mystic. At first, I thought it was all just so whack! I discuss my transition from old world to the life of a mystic in my novel Water. If you’re interested in the mystical, if you’re being called to a more mystical life and it feels scary, read the book. It’ll help you see one woman’s journey from “normal” to the metaphysical.
Judith continues: “You were put in the dungeon for saying things, drawing things, painting things, singing things, writing things, something that was not OK. You were from a rather wealthy privileged family and were given painting lessons. And where you went with that was way beyond what a woman of your station and age should ever have gone. Because your family had money and you were privileged, they didn’t actually execute you, but they left you in the dungeon to starve to death.”
I’ve been having stomach and digestion problems lately. Judith explains that my artistic blocks and stomach problems are related to this past life. Understanding this past life can help me resolve both issues.
“You were enraged and you were filled with grief. A lovely combination of emotions, guilt, terror, rage and grief.” She explains that my family’s land was confiscated when I was thrown in the dungeon. My family was ruined by my art. “Snake went up inside you,” she demonstrates by moving her hand in front of her up the center of her body, “and ate the resonance from this past life, the emotional leftovers from your chakra system.”
Resonances from past lives affect us all. Many people spend years in therapy over a particular sticky issue and nothing shifts. That’s because the residuals from the trauma are not from this lifetime.
Judith continues explaining the journey. She was brought to my current lifetime, to my childhood.
“You didn’t feel safe. Not feeling safe as a child cemented that earlier life lesson — you couldn’t do art and feel safe. You couldn’t be yourself and feel safe.
“Your guides want you to know that the only way to feel safe and for you to fully be who you are as an artist is to prove to yourself that you are safe. You cannot wait until you feel safe and then put your art out there. You will have to show yourself how safe you are by putting your art out there.”
She continues: “Once your work is out there and the world sees it and they don’t throw you in a dungeon, you will know, oh, I’m safe this lifetime to be an artist!”
Judith and I spend more time processing and chatting. I know from experience this will take a few days to sink in. I need to go home and do my own past-life regression to talk to the me in the earlier life.
Over the next week, an explosion of art happens around me. I find artist after artist who inspire me. Image after image after image — it feels like eating delicious soul-filling food. I feel a crazy passion to paint and paint and paint. I see a shift in my stomach issues, and I commit to finding a herbalist to help me rebalance my gut health. I begin to explore how to get my art out there in a bigger way.
Exploring our past lives is an incredible way to own our creative power. I believe every person is a creative powerhouse, and all we have to do is remove the psychological obstacles that hinder our natural brilliance. Sometimes those blocks are not about the difficulties of this life time. Sometimes they hark back to centuries past.
If you’re struggling with issues that block your creative power, if therapy isn’t shifting it, consider a past-life approach. Dr. Brian Weiss’ books on past life regression and future life progression are a good place to start.
Judith is performing a shamanic journey to help me answer the question: “How can I fully own my power as an artist?”
The journey is quicker than usual. She comes out of the trance, puts down the rattle, makes a few more notes, and we move to chairs at a round table in the middle of the room.
She dives right in. I have worked with Judith for 25 years, and we no longer need a lot of explanation in our work together. “Snake took me straight to a past life. To a dungeon where you were brought and left to starve to death for being an artist,” she says.
This resonates. I can feel it’s true. My stomach growls.
For those of you reading this who are not familiar with shamanic work, for those who think that snake spirit teachers and past lives in dungeons seems too odd, I can relate. I was an international journalist before I was called to the life of a mystic. At first, I thought it was all just so whack! I discuss my transition from old world to the life of a mystic in my novel Water. If you’re interested in the mystical, if you’re being called to a more mystical life and it feels scary, read the book. It’ll help you see one woman’s journey from “normal” to the metaphysical.
Judith continues: “You were put in the dungeon for saying things, drawing things, painting things, singing things, writing things, something that was not OK. You were from a rather wealthy privileged family and were given painting lessons. And where you went with that was way beyond what a woman of your station and age should ever have gone. Because your family had money and you were privileged, they didn’t actually execute you, but they left you in the dungeon to starve to death.”
I’ve been having stomach and digestion problems lately. Judith explains that my artistic blocks and stomach problems are related to this past life. Understanding this past life can help me resolve both issues.
“You were enraged and you were filled with grief. A lovely combination of emotions, guilt, terror, rage and grief.” She explains that my family’s land was confiscated when I was thrown in the dungeon. My family was ruined by my art. “Snake went up inside you,” she demonstrates by moving her hand in front of her up the center of her body, “and ate the resonance from this past life, the emotional leftovers from your chakra system.”
Resonances from past lives affect us all. Many people spend years in therapy over a particular sticky issue and nothing shifts. That’s because the residuals from the trauma are not from this lifetime.
Judith continues explaining the journey. She was brought to my current lifetime, to my childhood.
“You didn’t feel safe. Not feeling safe as a child cemented that earlier life lesson — you couldn’t do art and feel safe. You couldn’t be yourself and feel safe.
“Your guides want you to know that the only way to feel safe and for you to fully be who you are as an artist is to prove to yourself that you are safe. You cannot wait until you feel safe and then put your art out there. You will have to show yourself how safe you are by putting your art out there.”
She continues: “Once your work is out there and the world sees it and they don’t throw you in a dungeon, you will know, oh, I’m safe this lifetime to be an artist!”
Judith and I spend more time processing and chatting. I know from experience this will take a few days to sink in. I need to go home and do my own past-life regression to talk to the me in the earlier life.
Over the next week, an explosion of art happens around me. I find artist after artist who inspire me. Image after image after image — it feels like eating delicious soul-filling food. I feel a crazy passion to paint and paint and paint. I see a shift in my stomach issues, and I commit to finding a herbalist to help me rebalance my gut health. I begin to explore how to get my art out there in a bigger way.
Exploring our past lives is an incredible way to own our creative power. I believe every person is a creative powerhouse, and all we have to do is remove the psychological obstacles that hinder our natural brilliance. Sometimes those blocks are not about the difficulties of this life time. Sometimes they hark back to centuries past.
If you’re struggling with issues that block your creative power, if therapy isn’t shifting it, consider a past-life approach. Dr. Brian Weiss’ books on past life regression and future life progression are a good place to start.
5 Ways to Engage The Magic of Your Inner Child
I was at the beach at Nehalem Bay in Oregon a few months ago. A 5-year-old girl was doing the worm in the sand, her mother standing nearby.
"Is that the worm?" I asked her.
"Yes!" She wormed some more.
She jumped up and ran up to me and my dog Atlas. I held his leash tight. He's twice her size and weight, and I was worried he might hurt her. He's always jumping. I often fear he'll hurt an elderly person or child with his overwhelming love.
I looked to the mother.
"It's OK. She has the touch."
She put her tiny hands on both sides of Atlas' face. He calmed down profoundly.
She did have the touch.
We talked some more. Something about her profoundly moved me.
She was pure soul.
She was magic.
You are magic. We are all magic.
Often, though, that magic is lost beneath piles of conditioning by society and our parents. Our traumas, our parents' trauma, our cultural mandates, they change us. It's our spiritual journey, it's the whole reason we're born I believe, to spend our lives coming back to our authentic selves. It's not an easy journey. I've been on this path for 27 years and it's the hardest thing I've ever done. When we touch the raw place of our lost authentic selves it draws up all sorts of grief, rage, denial, fear. That's why they call it a Hero's Journey because it takes serious courage. I write about my challenges on my journey to purpose in fiction form in my novels Earth, Air, Fire, and Water.
If you want to find your purpose, the only way is through this excavation. Your purpose is the essence of who you are. In an imperfect world, we have to go on a journey to find this essence if we are to truly find our purpose.
One great way to engage our innate magic is to revisit our younger selves. Here are 5 tips for doing that.
1. Write down a list of things you loved to do when you were little. Do one of them!
2. Look at a picture of your younger self. Ask her what she's feeling, what she needs, what she wants, what she thinks. Write it down. Listen to her.
3. Finger paint. We're taught to be so practical as adults. Be impractical. Goof around.
4. Read children's books. They're magic and will remind you of your magic.
5. Play. Play. Play -- in whatever way that comes to you.
Now, bring any one of the above into your current spiritual/creative practice. Invoke and involve this younger self when you meditate, or journal, or write, or do art. It will reinvigorate your practice.
It's all about what you love. It's all about love.
"Is that the worm?" I asked her.
"Yes!" She wormed some more.
She jumped up and ran up to me and my dog Atlas. I held his leash tight. He's twice her size and weight, and I was worried he might hurt her. He's always jumping. I often fear he'll hurt an elderly person or child with his overwhelming love.
I looked to the mother.
"It's OK. She has the touch."
She put her tiny hands on both sides of Atlas' face. He calmed down profoundly.
She did have the touch.
We talked some more. Something about her profoundly moved me.
She was pure soul.
She was magic.
You are magic. We are all magic.
Often, though, that magic is lost beneath piles of conditioning by society and our parents. Our traumas, our parents' trauma, our cultural mandates, they change us. It's our spiritual journey, it's the whole reason we're born I believe, to spend our lives coming back to our authentic selves. It's not an easy journey. I've been on this path for 27 years and it's the hardest thing I've ever done. When we touch the raw place of our lost authentic selves it draws up all sorts of grief, rage, denial, fear. That's why they call it a Hero's Journey because it takes serious courage. I write about my challenges on my journey to purpose in fiction form in my novels Earth, Air, Fire, and Water.
If you want to find your purpose, the only way is through this excavation. Your purpose is the essence of who you are. In an imperfect world, we have to go on a journey to find this essence if we are to truly find our purpose.
One great way to engage our innate magic is to revisit our younger selves. Here are 5 tips for doing that.
1. Write down a list of things you loved to do when you were little. Do one of them!
2. Look at a picture of your younger self. Ask her what she's feeling, what she needs, what she wants, what she thinks. Write it down. Listen to her.
3. Finger paint. We're taught to be so practical as adults. Be impractical. Goof around.
4. Read children's books. They're magic and will remind you of your magic.
5. Play. Play. Play -- in whatever way that comes to you.
Now, bring any one of the above into your current spiritual/creative practice. Invoke and involve this younger self when you meditate, or journal, or write, or do art. It will reinvigorate your practice.
It's all about what you love. It's all about love.
How to Schedule Your Creative Time
For more than two decades I’ve been honing the scheduling around my creative practice. And I’ve been helping book clients and others do the same. As a novelist, visual artist, and coach, I’ve had to learn the magic of transition from helping others to working on my craft. I’ve had to figure out the best schedule for my creative energies on a daily, monthly, seasonal, and annual basis. And as is the case with novel-writing, I’ve had to find the balance over a series of years.
I’ve had to switch between clients and my own creative practice, and I’ve had to learn how to move from novel writing to visual art and back again.
How do we find the time we need to wonder and wander and fill the creative well, when we have family obligations or a full-time job? (No one can create with an empty creative well.)
How do we switch from the left linear brain to the right creative brain even when we do have some extra time?
How do we manage a long-term creative project like a novel? I tell clients novel-writing isn’t a sprint, it’s a triathlon that lasts three to five years!
Here are five steps that have worked for me:
1. Vision Comes First
Start with the vision of the project. Spend days or weeks envisioning what you want to create. I have to “dream” the novel or artwork to create it. Start with soulful exploration. Explore other artists and writers. I just finished my middle grade novel BLUE and for two years prior to writing it, I devoured delicious middle grade literature. How can you envision your project first? Create a vision board. Look through art books or online at great artists’ works. Inspire yourself. This is especially useful if you feel your creative well is dry.
2. The Beginning is the Hardest
For me, starting a novel or a new piece of artwork is the hardest part. I need the vroom to get started. I get myself revved up by first focusing on my biorhythms. I’m a morning person. What are you? Where do you find you have most energy and focus during the day? The hardest work of structuring a painting or a novel comes first thing in the morning when I’m fresh and “on”. In fact, I find when I first wake up, I can do in one hour what takes three hours if I wait to tackle it in the afternoon. If you can, schedule errands or money-making work during the times of your day when you have less energy. Conserve your best most beautiful energy for your own creative work. This can take years to set up. I’ve spent decades transforming my schedule to focus first and foremost on my own creative process. Be creatively selfish. I give you permission. 🙂
3. Scheduling is Crucial
This is huge! A consistent schedule for your creativity is the single greatest factor in determining your success, especially as a novelist. Work at the same time and on the same days each week, week to week, month to month. I schedule clients around my own consistent art/novel time and not the other way around. That tight consistency helps me get a lot done (5 novels, 4 published, hundreds of paintings). Three days a week of three hours of creativity each day seems to be the sweet spot for most people.
4. Posting is Fun
Don’t let social media override your creative practice. Schedule it at the end of the day. I love sharing my work. What is the story of the painting or the novel? What is your creative process? Use social media, blogs and podcasts to share the love. I believe our creativity inspires others especially during these times.
5. Blocks are Creative too
We all have blocks. Sometimes debilitating ones. You might have read the first four points here and thought: That’s all fine and good, but what if I can’t even get myself to do anything creative. I have a trick I use with clients. Take that block and paint it. Take that block and give it to a character in your novel. Take that block and write a self help book about it. Use the block. So if a parent was shaming, do an abstract painting where you put colors to your feelings. Finger paint it. I often give characters my blocks. In my middle grade novel BLUE, I have a little girl who is scared to tell the world what she sees as a mystic. This is definitely a block I’ve been working with for a long time. Use your block to own the block, explore the block, even love the block.
Studies show that creativity decreases anxiety and depression. We need creativity in our lives. The more we structure it into our days, the more joy we can feel and express, especially in these difficult times.
I’ve had to switch between clients and my own creative practice, and I’ve had to learn how to move from novel writing to visual art and back again.
How do we find the time we need to wonder and wander and fill the creative well, when we have family obligations or a full-time job? (No one can create with an empty creative well.)
How do we switch from the left linear brain to the right creative brain even when we do have some extra time?
How do we manage a long-term creative project like a novel? I tell clients novel-writing isn’t a sprint, it’s a triathlon that lasts three to five years!
Here are five steps that have worked for me:
1. Vision Comes First
Start with the vision of the project. Spend days or weeks envisioning what you want to create. I have to “dream” the novel or artwork to create it. Start with soulful exploration. Explore other artists and writers. I just finished my middle grade novel BLUE and for two years prior to writing it, I devoured delicious middle grade literature. How can you envision your project first? Create a vision board. Look through art books or online at great artists’ works. Inspire yourself. This is especially useful if you feel your creative well is dry.
2. The Beginning is the Hardest
For me, starting a novel or a new piece of artwork is the hardest part. I need the vroom to get started. I get myself revved up by first focusing on my biorhythms. I’m a morning person. What are you? Where do you find you have most energy and focus during the day? The hardest work of structuring a painting or a novel comes first thing in the morning when I’m fresh and “on”. In fact, I find when I first wake up, I can do in one hour what takes three hours if I wait to tackle it in the afternoon. If you can, schedule errands or money-making work during the times of your day when you have less energy. Conserve your best most beautiful energy for your own creative work. This can take years to set up. I’ve spent decades transforming my schedule to focus first and foremost on my own creative process. Be creatively selfish. I give you permission. 🙂
3. Scheduling is Crucial
This is huge! A consistent schedule for your creativity is the single greatest factor in determining your success, especially as a novelist. Work at the same time and on the same days each week, week to week, month to month. I schedule clients around my own consistent art/novel time and not the other way around. That tight consistency helps me get a lot done (5 novels, 4 published, hundreds of paintings). Three days a week of three hours of creativity each day seems to be the sweet spot for most people.
4. Posting is Fun
Don’t let social media override your creative practice. Schedule it at the end of the day. I love sharing my work. What is the story of the painting or the novel? What is your creative process? Use social media, blogs and podcasts to share the love. I believe our creativity inspires others especially during these times.
5. Blocks are Creative too
We all have blocks. Sometimes debilitating ones. You might have read the first four points here and thought: That’s all fine and good, but what if I can’t even get myself to do anything creative. I have a trick I use with clients. Take that block and paint it. Take that block and give it to a character in your novel. Take that block and write a self help book about it. Use the block. So if a parent was shaming, do an abstract painting where you put colors to your feelings. Finger paint it. I often give characters my blocks. In my middle grade novel BLUE, I have a little girl who is scared to tell the world what she sees as a mystic. This is definitely a block I’ve been working with for a long time. Use your block to own the block, explore the block, even love the block.
Studies show that creativity decreases anxiety and depression. We need creativity in our lives. The more we structure it into our days, the more joy we can feel and express, especially in these difficult times.
How Creativity Can Pull You Out of a Dark Night of the Soul
In Water,, my fourth novel, I describe my own dark night of the soul more than 25 years ago, and how finding my voice as a novelist and mystic helped pull me out of it.
Today, depression, and anxiety are skyrocketing as the world goes through an unprecedented shift.
Just as meditation, yoga and exercise can help during dark times, so too can a disciplined, ongoing creative practice.
Here are some tips for using your creativity to pull you back into the light.
1. Slow and steady wins the race. Set regular days and times aside for your creative practice. Over time that schedule will get locked into your psyche. Clients will call me to discuss their dark nights of the soul. I'll ask them about their creative practice and sometimes they'll answer, "Yeah, yeah, I did the 'creativity' thing last year. Been there. Done that." That's like saying, "I watered that plant a year ago, I don't know why it's dying!" It's like going to the gym once a year and wondering why you haven't built any muscles. You have to do a creative practice regularly for years to see real results. You have to build the muscle over time.
2. Paint the darkness. Write the darkness. I'm working on a young adult novel now called Indigo -- and I'm folding in the wildfires into the narrative. I was evacuated one year ago this month as the Riverside Fire burned 276,000 acres of forestland. The way I deal with the emotions around this is to enfold it into the plot and characterization of my novels. To find poetry and soul amidst the destruction.
3. Creativity is so wonderful because it uses every emotion. You don't have to have it together. You don't have to look good. You can use every single emotion in the painting and in the writing. That's why I love being an artist. No hiding.
4. Do your creative practice even if you feel like crap. You don't have to feel good to do good art or writing. In fact, some of my best art comes when I feel horrible, broken open and raw.
5. Don't think: What use is creativity now? You're wrong. It's of tremendous importance. Look at what happened with the pandemic. Where did people turn? To the artists, to the writers, to the filmmakers, to the actors -- to Netflix and Hulu and Amazon Prime and Apple TV. Who created the content? Artists. Writers. Actors! Your craft is needed now more than ever. People need a soulful way to approach this chaos.
6. Many of us have more time now than ever before because of the pandemic. Look at the lockdown as a way to go deeply into yourself, find that creative spark, blow on it, nurture it, build it into a transformative force.
Want to know more about the dark night of the soul and creativity? Listen here to my conversation with Coach Ellen Newhouse.
Need more guidance? Besides ongoing book coaching, I offer all kinds of sessions to help you get back on track with your creativity. I'm passionate about helping people reconnect with their raw, passionate, innate creative power -- because I know that CREATIVITY is the answer to all of the destruction we're seeing.
Today, depression, and anxiety are skyrocketing as the world goes through an unprecedented shift.
Just as meditation, yoga and exercise can help during dark times, so too can a disciplined, ongoing creative practice.
Here are some tips for using your creativity to pull you back into the light.
1. Slow and steady wins the race. Set regular days and times aside for your creative practice. Over time that schedule will get locked into your psyche. Clients will call me to discuss their dark nights of the soul. I'll ask them about their creative practice and sometimes they'll answer, "Yeah, yeah, I did the 'creativity' thing last year. Been there. Done that." That's like saying, "I watered that plant a year ago, I don't know why it's dying!" It's like going to the gym once a year and wondering why you haven't built any muscles. You have to do a creative practice regularly for years to see real results. You have to build the muscle over time.
2. Paint the darkness. Write the darkness. I'm working on a young adult novel now called Indigo -- and I'm folding in the wildfires into the narrative. I was evacuated one year ago this month as the Riverside Fire burned 276,000 acres of forestland. The way I deal with the emotions around this is to enfold it into the plot and characterization of my novels. To find poetry and soul amidst the destruction.
3. Creativity is so wonderful because it uses every emotion. You don't have to have it together. You don't have to look good. You can use every single emotion in the painting and in the writing. That's why I love being an artist. No hiding.
4. Do your creative practice even if you feel like crap. You don't have to feel good to do good art or writing. In fact, some of my best art comes when I feel horrible, broken open and raw.
5. Don't think: What use is creativity now? You're wrong. It's of tremendous importance. Look at what happened with the pandemic. Where did people turn? To the artists, to the writers, to the filmmakers, to the actors -- to Netflix and Hulu and Amazon Prime and Apple TV. Who created the content? Artists. Writers. Actors! Your craft is needed now more than ever. People need a soulful way to approach this chaos.
6. Many of us have more time now than ever before because of the pandemic. Look at the lockdown as a way to go deeply into yourself, find that creative spark, blow on it, nurture it, build it into a transformative force.
Want to know more about the dark night of the soul and creativity? Listen here to my conversation with Coach Ellen Newhouse.
Need more guidance? Besides ongoing book coaching, I offer all kinds of sessions to help you get back on track with your creativity. I'm passionate about helping people reconnect with their raw, passionate, innate creative power -- because I know that CREATIVITY is the answer to all of the destruction we're seeing.
Dissolve Your Purpose into the Waters of your Soul
Is our purpose limited only to the work we do, or is it more than that? Is it just what we turn on for clients or a zone we only get into when we're writing our books? Do we turn it off for the most of the day and week?
What if we let that passion and purpose permeate everything, all of our relationships, even how we keep our house, how we cook food, how we look at the view out the window, how we perceive the world? What if our purpose and passion gave more SOUL to every aspect of our lives.
While thinking about this, I had a dream where I was reminded of a scene in my novel Water.
In the following autobiographical scene, I describe my first workshop on shamanism in Seattle with the famous shamanic teacher Michael Harner. A large group of us sit in a circle. For those who don't know shamanism, part of it includes doing visualizations, taking "journeys" to meet spirit guides to ask them questions. The following recounts my first time ever "journeying" for another person.
***
I turn to the woman beside me. She looks like Tammy Faye. Short and round, a tight perm, pearl necklace, pearl earrings. Her perfume overwhelms me. As I look her over, she looks me over. My skinny jeans, tight concert t-shirt, combat boots. We are an odd couple. We are two people who would never hang out.
The assistant says we must give our partner a question, and we will go on simultaneous shamanic journeys to ask the other person's guides for answers.
I ask her what her question is and she says, “How can I expand my work as a Christian missionary?” I think: how odd and wonderful that she’s Christian, and she’s here doing this shamanic workshop, something so pagan.
We’re told to lie back and have the sides of our bodies touching. The drumming starts. I find myself immediately transported.
I'm at a river bank. The grit and mud, the sparse grass like balding hair, it’s as real to me as anything in normal reality. A guide comes up beside me; he looks like Jesus. In front of me is a small pool of water. Beyond the small pool is a narrow strip of land, and beyond that a wide river with a strong current. It’s muddy and reminds me of the Missouri River.
Jesus hands me a wafer, the body of Christ. I know it well from Catholic Mass. He tells me, “Put the wafer on the ground, in the grass.” I do so. He traces around it with his finger. “This is the extent of the space it takes up,” he says. “You see the space it occupies?”
I nod.
“Now put it in the pool.”
I do so, placing it into the tiny, still pool in front of me. It breaks apart and dissolves.
“Now, in this small pool, it has dissolved, and see what space it takes up," Jesus says. The pool is less than two feet in diameter.
I nod.
“Now watch this.” The river swells, breaks the bank, and swirls into the tiny pool. The river absorbs the pool and the tiny particles within it, and the current pulls it out and away. “Now see the space the wafer takes up. It flows in vast directions.”
I nod.
He says, “Tell her to bring her Christianity into every area of her life, not just church. Tell her to dissolve it into the waters of her soul and have it permeate her every breath.”
I hear rapid drumming and this is the cue that we're meant to come out of the meditation. I do so and sit up and blink my eyes. The woman also sits up.
I give her the message word for word, with all of the visuals. She melts. She cries.
“Yes, I keep my Christianity at the church. You’re right. It needs to be everywhere in my life.” She has the bluest, most gentle eyes. I didn’t notice them before. She thinks for a while, then looks at me with such trust until I melt. “Thank you.” (She tells me the answer to my question but I'm editing that out here for brevity.)
She hugs me. I don’t see her as “other” anymore, like I did before. I realize we are both just people, just living, just doing our best.
***
Think about this for yourself. How much of your spiritual/creative life is a wafer that you keep limited to the grassy area of client calls or the 30 minutes you do yoga? How much of your spiritual/creative work is compartmentalized?
I know when I attempt to let soul permeate everything, I'm so much happier, so much more fulfilled. When I see a person or the forest or even my dog as a painting of lights and darks, when I see it all as poetry, my soul sings. What if we could see the soul in paying our bills?
What if our soul work is a conversation we bring everywhere, waters we swim in all day, an energy we bring with us wherever we go, the very air we breathe.
What if you dissolved your soul expression into the very current of your life?
What if we let that passion and purpose permeate everything, all of our relationships, even how we keep our house, how we cook food, how we look at the view out the window, how we perceive the world? What if our purpose and passion gave more SOUL to every aspect of our lives.
While thinking about this, I had a dream where I was reminded of a scene in my novel Water.
In the following autobiographical scene, I describe my first workshop on shamanism in Seattle with the famous shamanic teacher Michael Harner. A large group of us sit in a circle. For those who don't know shamanism, part of it includes doing visualizations, taking "journeys" to meet spirit guides to ask them questions. The following recounts my first time ever "journeying" for another person.
***
I turn to the woman beside me. She looks like Tammy Faye. Short and round, a tight perm, pearl necklace, pearl earrings. Her perfume overwhelms me. As I look her over, she looks me over. My skinny jeans, tight concert t-shirt, combat boots. We are an odd couple. We are two people who would never hang out.
The assistant says we must give our partner a question, and we will go on simultaneous shamanic journeys to ask the other person's guides for answers.
I ask her what her question is and she says, “How can I expand my work as a Christian missionary?” I think: how odd and wonderful that she’s Christian, and she’s here doing this shamanic workshop, something so pagan.
We’re told to lie back and have the sides of our bodies touching. The drumming starts. I find myself immediately transported.
I'm at a river bank. The grit and mud, the sparse grass like balding hair, it’s as real to me as anything in normal reality. A guide comes up beside me; he looks like Jesus. In front of me is a small pool of water. Beyond the small pool is a narrow strip of land, and beyond that a wide river with a strong current. It’s muddy and reminds me of the Missouri River.
Jesus hands me a wafer, the body of Christ. I know it well from Catholic Mass. He tells me, “Put the wafer on the ground, in the grass.” I do so. He traces around it with his finger. “This is the extent of the space it takes up,” he says. “You see the space it occupies?”
I nod.
“Now put it in the pool.”
I do so, placing it into the tiny, still pool in front of me. It breaks apart and dissolves.
“Now, in this small pool, it has dissolved, and see what space it takes up," Jesus says. The pool is less than two feet in diameter.
I nod.
“Now watch this.” The river swells, breaks the bank, and swirls into the tiny pool. The river absorbs the pool and the tiny particles within it, and the current pulls it out and away. “Now see the space the wafer takes up. It flows in vast directions.”
I nod.
He says, “Tell her to bring her Christianity into every area of her life, not just church. Tell her to dissolve it into the waters of her soul and have it permeate her every breath.”
I hear rapid drumming and this is the cue that we're meant to come out of the meditation. I do so and sit up and blink my eyes. The woman also sits up.
I give her the message word for word, with all of the visuals. She melts. She cries.
“Yes, I keep my Christianity at the church. You’re right. It needs to be everywhere in my life.” She has the bluest, most gentle eyes. I didn’t notice them before. She thinks for a while, then looks at me with such trust until I melt. “Thank you.” (She tells me the answer to my question but I'm editing that out here for brevity.)
She hugs me. I don’t see her as “other” anymore, like I did before. I realize we are both just people, just living, just doing our best.
***
Think about this for yourself. How much of your spiritual/creative life is a wafer that you keep limited to the grassy area of client calls or the 30 minutes you do yoga? How much of your spiritual/creative work is compartmentalized?
I know when I attempt to let soul permeate everything, I'm so much happier, so much more fulfilled. When I see a person or the forest or even my dog as a painting of lights and darks, when I see it all as poetry, my soul sings. What if we could see the soul in paying our bills?
What if our soul work is a conversation we bring everywhere, waters we swim in all day, an energy we bring with us wherever we go, the very air we breathe.
What if you dissolved your soul expression into the very current of your life?
