Working with spirits of creative energy

Creative dip is very real, and I’m just coming out of one (I hope). In the past, this sensation of mental drought made me feel incredibly uncomfortable. But this time around, I have been observing my creative rut process, pondering why it brings up discomfort, and finding gentle ways to move forward.

There are so many reasons we all go through a creative rut. For me, I can see that overexhaustion from a too-busy schedule usually leads to a dip. It’s almost like my day-to-day operation is too overstimulating to the point that I have to numb down my nervous system to get through the days. Being highly sensitive is not always easy in this very loud world, but I am often reminded that this special trait is actually what allows me to observe intricate relationships in the subtle shifts of the world. Those observations and insights are my gems of inspiration. So when I stop feeling things, I also naturally stop seeing all the sparks of new ideas, thoughts, and wonder. New ideas and thoughts are like fairy spirits - elusive and ephemeral.

And the discomfort settles in…

I had to sit on this for a while. From the outside, being on a creative high or low doesn’t look any different from a state of my well-being. Maybe the only difference is that the pace of my writing on Substack has slowed, and I notice I spend less time with my journals and notebooks in general. I’m still very functional in everyday operations and can keep going “as is” for a long time. But inside, I start to find myself less and less interesting… I mean… no new ideas/thoughts coming out like a bubble of spring water. What’s the fun in the day?

This time around, I started to catch the low creative energy seeping in, maybe a few weeks ago in May, just when I got through back-to-back extremely full weeks and weekends. I was starting to receive mixed signals from my system, which were hard to distinguish from simply being physically tired. I rested and slept on it, but the feeling of emptiness continued. This sensation used to be harder to chew on, but nowadays, I just talk it out with Frido, and that seems to make the feelings less sticky.

In the past, I didn’t see the connection between the two parallel existences of my physical and nervous systems. Because I am physically fairly hardy, I used to take on so much more without realizing that my nervous system had reached its capacity long, LONG ago. When I was burned out like that, creative juice was nowhere to be found. Maybe because I got older and got to know myself a little better, I have come to accept my limited bandwidth in what I can physically do without compromising my nervous system.

Eventually, I started to wonder how to move out of the season of low creative energy. When I stepped away from my desk with a notebook and a pen, the blocking barrier started to move a notch. Then I started spending a few minutes every morning with my Accordion Refill, where I capture my inspiration, before I got into my daily tasks. Even just a few minutes with a soft pencil and watercolor brightened up the mood. Seeing my page start to fill up again has also been very tangible feedback for my psychic.

Then, inspired by our recent addition of Huberd’s Shoe Grease at Baum-kuchen, I decided to condition my Alchemist a few days ago. I went in with a “just try it out” playful energy, adding the cream, a mixture of pine tar and beeswax, with my fingers and watching the oil seep into the leather. Returning to it after a while to buff it with a cloth was so enjoyable. The leather surface literally changed to something I want to hold more. It was simple but very tactile and visibly & energetically metamorphosing.

Creativity is like an ocean tide… so it naturally ebbs and flows, depending on what’s going on in the other part of my life. I can’t control how or when the elusive creative fairies show up, but I can perhaps work with them or, better yet, feed them nutrient-rich food and care for them gently - however that might be.

Frido read the draft of this story and told me it felt a bit incomplete. And I think that’s probably an accurate perception. A process like this is ongoing and never-ending… and to be continued.