Wow. I really needed to hear this today. I couldn't get out of bed until much later in the morning. I had been rushing to get through writing tasks as early as possible in my day so I could harness as much creativity as possible. But it doesn't work like that. Sometimes we just gotta focus on our roots under the soil and save our energy for when the sun is out again and we can bloom.
This is such a beautiful, accurate picture! and it’s a very important reminder in these productivist times where it’s all about making the most out of your time and you always feel like you could already be somewhere else if you tried harder. Thank you!
thank u for this wisdom. i have been in a long struggle with feeling like i need to “apply myself” more to get things “done” creatively -- ur words remind me that patience doesn’t look like how i think it will, & plants don’t know when we have scheduled them to grow
I second really needed to hear this. I’m totally laid out today, not having slept well from my body radiating heat all night after taking three dance classes. I very much feel like I’m in a creative phase right now after not feeling that way for so long, but I’m so anxious to capture it all because I’m worried it’s going to slip away again. Learning to be present with my ideas and create conditions where it’s possible to show up for myself in a sustainable is the most important thing!
Relevant to my work here on Substack, and to my own permaculture "food forest." I may finally get hazelnuts this year, 15 years after I planted the first bush. Assuming the squirrels don't beat me to them while I'm out of town again.
This is such medicine for the impatience inherent in the creative process at times. Thank you for your eloquent and beautiful writing as always - love the plant analogies and that you called one 'Judith' (my best friend's name, and a great creative ally, as it happens).
Wow. I really needed to hear this today. I couldn't get out of bed until much later in the morning. I had been rushing to get through writing tasks as early as possible in my day so I could harness as much creativity as possible. But it doesn't work like that. Sometimes we just gotta focus on our roots under the soil and save our energy for when the sun is out again and we can bloom.
This is such a beautiful, accurate picture! and it’s a very important reminder in these productivist times where it’s all about making the most out of your time and you always feel like you could already be somewhere else if you tried harder. Thank you!
thank u for this wisdom. i have been in a long struggle with feeling like i need to “apply myself” more to get things “done” creatively -- ur words remind me that patience doesn’t look like how i think it will, & plants don’t know when we have scheduled them to grow
I second really needed to hear this. I’m totally laid out today, not having slept well from my body radiating heat all night after taking three dance classes. I very much feel like I’m in a creative phase right now after not feeling that way for so long, but I’m so anxious to capture it all because I’m worried it’s going to slip away again. Learning to be present with my ideas and create conditions where it’s possible to show up for myself in a sustainable is the most important thing!
"The work will be awkward and small for years."
Relevant to my work here on Substack, and to my own permaculture "food forest." I may finally get hazelnuts this year, 15 years after I planted the first bush. Assuming the squirrels don't beat me to them while I'm out of town again.
This is such medicine for the impatience inherent in the creative process at times. Thank you for your eloquent and beautiful writing as always - love the plant analogies and that you called one 'Judith' (my best friend's name, and a great creative ally, as it happens).
My best work really does hit with no warning, you're so right! Thank you for your beautiful words that remind me of why I choose to slow down.
I loved reading this. Thank you for sharing, it really resonated!