Letter #9: For the season of not-creating

Delhi, 21 November 2022

Dear friend,

I have to confess that I’m in the season of not-creating this month. There have certainly been days when I experience total clarity of thought. But by the time the thought reaches paper (or screen, rather), the intention gets diluted and I can’t seem to find the right words in my head at all.

For the first time in 10 months, I am admitting to myself (in big capital letters in my journal) that WRITING IS SO DAMN HARD. I’ve been feeling bad about not being able to write & changing the direction of my intended letter too many times. I try to be self-compassionate, telling myself how big a creative challenge I’ve taken on. “You’re doing something very difficult, Nishita. This is your very first writing project,” I say to myself, “of course you can’t be great at it all the time.” But that doesn’t help when I’ve been stuck on the same thing for 20 days. The topic that I picked for November was one that I’m very passionate about – Education – and failing to make sense of my thoughts on this feels even worse. It’s been a real struggle and my Inner Critic has been having a great time telling me how I’ve lost momentum & might never regain it.

But as of yesterday, I’ve finally come to admit to myself that I’m just not in my creating-phase right now.

Inner Critic: Ummmm what? What do you mean “not in my creating-phase”? Who are you if not a Creative?

You see, I’ve been creating ever since I can remember. I was the art-kid at school. I studied architecture – the mother of all arts. I have been practicing creativity in all its different forms in the 7 years since I’ve graduated. I’ve made creative work my passion & profession.

Throughout the last 20 days of November, I’ve been religiously prioritising my writing-time. I try to write first thing in the morning before office starts. If not that, I try to write for 20 minutes anytime during the day. If not even that, I try to listen to something related to my topic for the current letter. If not even that, I at least tweet about my reflections on the writing process (:P)

I’ve either been writing or thinking about writing.

But the writing just isn’t coming together.

It’s just not happening.

I really want it to happen.

It’s not.

It’s not my first experience with a season like this.

In July this year, I just didn’t want to create. I had started running very regularly that month & I was enjoying it SO MUCH that I didn’t feel like sitting at my desk for a single moment beyond office hours. While I was mostly intentional about my outdoors-time, I would (very occasionally) make myself feel guilty about ignoring my creative practice.

Feeling guilt & shame about not-creating can become a bigger issue than the original mind-block sometimes. Creating (especially in personal projects) cannot be like a punishment where we must sit & must make.

“It’s okay to be wobbling”, is what I need to say to myself at such times.

​Wobbling: It’s a word I first heard on Madeleine Dore’s podcast Routines & Ruts (Have you heard it? I love it so much!) I heard a long time ago so I don’t remember how exactly Madeleine defined it. But here’s how I absorbed the meaning of it: Wobbling would mean - moving forward, but not in a straight, perfectly balanced line. With this in mind, I try to remind myself that going off-balance is a healthy part of the process.

The reminder doesn’t come easily. But god bless all the cues & conversations I’m surrounded with, which help me come home to this truth when I need to. As a recovering-perfectionist, I try to collect little snippets which help me process & embrace these lows of the creative process, with a little more comfort. I realise that it’s not always knowledge & breakthroughs that we need on our creative journey. Sometimes, it’s just a little bit of comfort to feel better on a day when no “progress” shall be made.

Have you had some of those days? Where no matter how dedicated you are with your effort, there’s no result in the end. If you have, then I hope you’ll enjoy this little walk through my library of gentle notes to creatives-not-creating.

​"People shouldn’t have to appear always stable and content. Because people aren’t always stable and content."

Singer songwriter Fiona Apple

To be very honest, I don’t know much about Ms. Apple’s work but when I looked her up online, I learnt that she’s been creating music since 1996 & all five of her albums have been massively loved/successful. There’s a deep sense of support in knowing that the acclaimed Fiona Apple experiences life & creativity in the similar way as one Nishita does, and on some days, you might as well?

Something that ties in really well to the quote is this piece of writing by Marissa Solomon Shandell, an organizational behavior PhD student who is also the creator of ‘Research Doodles’ on Instagram. Marissa writes:

Balance may steady us, but it doesn’t elevate us.

When we’re fully balanced, we stand still. We’re stuck.

When we thoughtfully lose our balance, we move forward. We grow.

Walking is just controlled falling: with each step, we lean forward, teeter, then catch ourselves.

This metaphor of seeing walking as just controlled falling totally enamoured me. We are taught to achieve balance in literally everything we do. Achieving a “fine balance” is a respectable accomplishment. But how long can that balance really be sustained? And is it worth sustaining for longer than necessary? Maybe balance is not all that it’s hyped up to be.

How lovely is this doodle by Marissa:

These days, I’m reading a book called “Goodbye, Again” by Jonny Sun. A close friend gifted it to me on my birthday this year, and I’ve been reading it… really slowly. Everything about the book makes me feel calm and helps me slow down. From the writing and the little sketches which form the core “reading material”, to the type-setting of the book, the chapter-naming, the white hard-cover & cover design. I don’t want to finish this book as such. I’m treating it as a friend to sit with at times.

I recommend the entire book to you (and so does the New York Times… they called it “one of those long showers during which you find yourself so lost in a flow state that, when you snap out of it, you forget whether or not you’ve even shampooed” and yes I agree with you, NYT.) But for today’s library tour, I am picking out this section for you:

Speaking of giving attention… we also spoke about ‘attention’ in my last letter to you. And here too, it’s a question of paying attention, I guess. Maybe I’ve been paying attention to what’s not been happening when I call this the season of not-creating.

If it fair to call winter as not-summer?

What comes to mind next is the “Life Pie” by writer Julia Cameron in her book on “creative recovery”. Her instructions to everyone reading ‘The Artist’s Way’ are as follows:

Draw a circle. Divide it into 6 pieces of a pie. Label one piece spirituality, another exercise, another play, and so on with work, friends, and romance/ adventure. Place a dot in each slice at the degree to which you are fulfilled in that area (outer rim indicates great; inner circle, not so great). Connect the dots. This will show you where you are lopsided. As you begin the course, it is not uncommon for your life pie to look like a tarantula. As recovery progresses, your tarantula may become a mandala. Working with this tool, you will notice that there are areas of your life that feel impoverished and on which you spend little or no time Use the time tidbits you are finding to alter this… even the slightest attention to our impoverished areas can nurture them.

Given how closely my self-image is tied to being a creative, I have always nurtured the play & work pieces of my pie. But every time I come back to Julia Cameron’s Life Pie, I am reminded of the other 4 pieces as well. When I’m stuck on the creative front, it reminds me to zoom out & take one more look at life overall.

So yesterday night, I once again realised that while I was fussing over how no proper writing has been happening, I was downplaying everything that IS HAPPENING. :)

With a nudge to reflect, I realised that I’ve nurtured the personal-life pies of my life the most in this past, spending a whole month at my parent’s house, meeting my grandfather & cousins frequently, going on kickass vacation with the office team, and finally (cherry on the cake!) getting engaged to my boyfriend (woohoo) - Phew, that’s a lot! :D

The Inner Critic is still a nasty fellow though, expecting me to maintain the perfect balance between work, relationships, and life. That’s how independent, capable women roll, right.

But summer & spring & winter don’t arrive all together.

Every season needs its own sweet time.

So tonight, as I send out this letter, I am reminding myself how natural & healthy it is to go completely off-balance sometimes.

To be in the season of not-creating is the most natural thing a creative can do.

Yes, I’ve dropped the ball on writing. But so what if I’m not great at juggling everything at once. (I’m not a trained-clown anyway.) Here’s one final snippet from the comfort library, something really lovely that naturopathic-doctor+entrepreneur+mom Meghan Walker said on a podcast:

​The balls keep dropping but they don't break, they're bouncy. They come back up & noone else really notices.

I would love to hear from you, dear friend, on what brings you comfort in your own season of not-creating (I’m just operating on the belief that everyone goes through it). Is there a friend you talk to? A folder of screenshots you go back to? An Instagram page which uplifts you? I hope the snippets from today’s letter also become the friends you can revisit at such times, in addition to what you already may have. <3

Before I sign off… I want to share this podcast I’ve been in love with > Calm It Down. While all the episodes are worth listening to, you could consider starting with Episode 2: What do you say to a 10 year old?

Take care of yourself!

Much love,

Nishita