Live long, and play...

According to ChatGPT, one of the ways you can introduce more playfulness into your life is, well... doing more playful stuff. It then cheerfully lists things that will apparently 'infuse your everyday life with a reviewed sense of joy and exploration.' Things that include spending time in a fort you made out of blankets, miming to your mirror, shaping things with playdough, and - I like this one - talking to yourself as two different characters while you do your housework.

That's all very well and good, but these are serious times. Between rising to the scent of the coffee maker and flossing our teeth before bed, there is a plethora of things to be done. Bills to be paid. Clothes to wash. Work to get to, and do -- hopefully somewhat efficiently despite the chronic lack of sleep. Groceries to buy, cook, consume. People to look after. While having a few laughs or exploring our personal creativity might be on the agenda, it often is not a priority item.

Can it be?

Possibly. Won't it be just another thing we end up having no time for? And as that no-time-to-play-ness heaps up over the week, another thing we can beat ourselves up for not doing. What's the value of it anyway?

I'm glad you asked. Of course, you would naturally assume I am an advocate for playfulness, and you'd be right. I'm not playful because some scientist or medical professional suggested it to me. I just sort of arrived there naturally. I'm an imaginative person, yet, I spent too many years being seriously serious, ended up someplace I didn't want to be, and then wished to find a path back to the me I used to be.

At that point, challenging myself to be artistic at all was huge. I wanted to be more inventive, yet I struggled with doubt and procrastination. I retrained as a graphic designer feeling that this work would allow me to be more creative while earning a wage. Struggling with any sense of self-worth, I began to take voice lessons - a very serious business in a lot of ways -- as much as I wanted to sing, everything in me told me day after day that I was hopeless and this was a huge waste of time and money. To help myself feel more confident on stage, I decided to take some acting lessons (Method Acting).To mitigate the angst of my singing journey, I took classes in improvisational theatre (a la 'What's My Line') hoping it would lighten things up a bit.

Even still, I ended up at my doctor's office with chest pains. After a good look at me, he said there was nothing wrong with my heart. I was so stressed and burnt out it was affecting me physically. I had to make some changes.

I started by getting up every morning and walking along the ocean, feeling the clean air, smelling the sea, taking time to look at my surroundings and realize how lucky I was to live in such a lovely place. I started to keep a gratitude journal. I got more involved with improv, doing lighting or sound for the shows, listening to people laugh, laughing myself at the absurdities presented by the teams of actors. It was a lot for me to step in front of people to do wacky things off the cuff and not worry about how I looked. But when I was able to let go, it was great.

According to psychologists, playfulness is a good thing. It makes us more innovative. We may see and appreciate the small things. Laughing is good for us. It reduces stress. We may get out and about more, meaning we're more physically active. Playfulness gives us a sense of hope or lightness of being, because it suspends time. We are 'being' in a different way, in a different place.

Since I detest housework, I may take ChatGPT up on its suggestion that I pretend I'm a character in a comedy and narrate my surroundings in a humorous way. Or keep a bottle of bubbles by my desk and blow bubbles from time to time -- maybe when I am on Zoom calls. Or take myself on an imaginary vacation. It's all about being child-like a few minutes at a time, a few minutes a day. 

I have to run now. My 'Long John Silver' character is about to confront my 'Mr. Spock' character. Sparks may fly, logic or not -- I told Spock not to eat the last donut! Sighs.

Do you doodle?

I watched an interesting YouTube the other day which claimed people who fidget burn more energy and therefore tend to be thin. I immediately started a fidgeting campaign and I will let you know in a few months if it had any affect other than annoying people.

As my mind works this way, it occurred to me that doodling is a kind of fidget. It's something we do rather absent-mindedly. But did you know that doodling is good for you? In fact I suggest a daily devotion to doodling, done deliberately and determinedly.

There are various ideas on the value of doodling. It's spontaneous expression. It might sort of open the gates to new ideas. Because it's free-flowing, and uninhibited, it expands the mind. A great way to brainstorm ideas to solve problems because you can map out ideas and visually draw connections or relationships.

It also has the advantage of reducing stress. In a meeting or in a call, the activity of drawing something can help you find a calm place. I say this because I know that drawing or painting tends to bring me to a state of peace.

Apparently, doodling has a cool effect on the brain as well. The act of drawing something strengthens hand-eye coordination.  It can help develop spatial awareness, pattern recognition, memory encoding, and cognitive flexibility. Ah.

It's also a form of self-expression. It doesn't have to look like anything, or be anything, but the act of creating something visual without the need for it to be 'good' is a kind of self-exploration. Maybe it quietly reveals what you think or feel about something. 

You don't have to be an artist to doodle. It's something you can do easily at various times and in different situations, to keep your creativity alive and maybe even open the door to innovative ideas.

Like singing in the shower, doodling allows you to resonate with the present moment in your own unique way.  In my opinion, anything that opens the door to creativity is to be embraced. You may not have the time to take a watercolour class, or write in a journal, or compose a song, or make a v-log. But you can surely find time to doodle.

In time perhaps, at the local internet cafe, there will be people fidgeting as they drink their coffee and doodle on their napkins. Who knows where that exploration of simple-things-that-make-a-difference might lead.

How did I get here?

Sunday morning, 5am, I am up, I am writing, I am designing, I am fiddling with artwork. I am both tired because I have only slept four or five hours, and vibrating because I am doing something I love that I hope might be meaningful to others. 

This year is the year I move from thinking to action.

That statement reminds me of advice I read once that said, when you are writing a novel, do not tell other people your ideas. Do not talk about what you plan to write. Talking about it will lessen the impetus to actually put down the words. Stay silent, and write the thing.

For a long time I have contemplated putting my experiences into a book of some kind. I wrote outlines, began chapters - for some reason it just didn't resonate. Maybe I wasn't ready. Or maybe I had to be inspired.

This year, I found inspiration in a format that I really like. A form that mixes image and text, prose and picture.

That's really cool, and you will see the results in the right-hand column of this blog. Check them out and please let me know what you think.

When I 'arrive' somewhere, I look back and wonder, 'how the heck did I get here' and that's exactly how I feel now.

In writing these books I am reminded of my past life, the many people who have wandered in and out of it - some malevolent and cruel, many more who were kind, accepting, encouraging and trusting.

I am reminded I am someone who used to stammer, shake with terror, and run away from people.

I am reminded I found away out of that place with the help of incredible mentors and a passion for music that I still have today.

I am reminded I am responsible to 'pay it forward' as best I can, for those who helped me in singing, composing, and life gave their knowledge to me without constraint, in a spirit of compassion, humility and support.

If anyone is still reading this blog (and I have fallen off the blog bandwagon so I expect it's very few), I would like to say thank you for checking in, and promise I will be more active here. 

I look out my window...

I look out my window and see snowdrops, gently pushing their way through the leaves that lay beneath the bare tree. The temperature hovers around freezing. The wind is chill. It is nearly February.

My muse has been like those flowers, hiding in the shadows of fallen leaves, using them as shelter against the endless rain of winter, and the occasional snow or frost.

Why is it I feel more alive when the sky is blue and the light of the sun breaks through the mist to caress my face? I simply do.

Why is it I feel more alive when I engage in my music, my writing, or the creation of art? I simply do.

But, then, why is it I avoid those things that make me feel more alive? My own 'busy-ness' and scatteredness propel me away from simple things like walking, journaling, singing, writing, taking moments to stop and breathe. To be present.

We seem to be wired to avoid and procrastinate. And then, beat ourselves up for it.

The only way to change that, is to simply do.

I suggest, do those 'alive' things first. Ease into them with something nice (I'll sit down to write, but first I will make a cup of Earl Grey hot, just like I like it. And drink it mindfully). Then do the 'alive' thing you've promised yourself you will do.

"Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes ... including you." — Anne Lamott

waking up

I often wake in the middle of the night. When I sleep a solid seven hours, it's rare and feels good. But recently instead of lying frustrated wanting to sleep, or watching modules of one of my composing courses, or getting up to do something because might as well... I've taken to listening to all sorts of music on Youtube. I just start and then Youtube has suggestions on the right hand side, which will lead me to something else, and then another. Sometimes I find old favourites or discover new ones. It reminds me of my wish to live a musical life...

It seems to me that I have been living in a shadow world since March 2020 when the lock-down first began. My world was the nice-but-small bedroom-converted-to-studio in my tiny basement apartment. It had one wide-but-short window that looked up into the back garden.

My vision became myopic and my experience of the outside world shriveled down to walks and grocery pick-ups... and the occasional drive.

I only realized this recently when a move prompted me to look out at the horizon, and I realized how dim the light had been.

Here's a cool cover I just discovered... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8HrmAgYE-6k&list=RD8HrmAgYE-6k&start_radio=1

[Photo by Isabella and Zsa Fischer on Unsplash]

snow, and stuff

A winter epiphany. On occasion, life hands you lemons, and you struggle to make lemonade. Or maybe you think of making lemonade. Dream of it, put it on the to-do list, procrastinate, and then beat yourself up for not making it. The to-do list gets longer and the stagnation grows. Until one day you wake up and realize, in not making lemonade, you have stopped yourself from making other things as well.

I am not a hoarder but I have far too much stuff. Boxes I haven't unpacked since my last move. Boxes of things I buy to accessorize my life. Boxes of things I supposedly need in order to have a fulfilling life.

How do you get in the flow, connect with your muse, when your spirit is weighted down by the undone to-dos and the collection of unused items that sit around you in the corners and the closets?

It is difficult enough to struggle against the doubt that arises every time you sit down in front of the blank page. The undones and needless proliferation of stuff become a stop sign too as they are always there in your peripheral vision.

I have tried setting the goal of going through a box or a drawer daily. The trouble is one starts, begins new piles of recycle, rehome, junk... and becomes overwhelmed after a few days. The reorganization grinds to a halt and becomes another bit of guilt-inducing evidence.

I think the only way to really deal with it is to force yourself to do everything now. Devote three days to one job, which is going through stuff, and removing to the charity shop or recycle or to the junkyard everything that you don't need to put hands on in order to live.

Ebb and flow

I found it encouraging yesterday to watch a Youtube video by a visual artist and composer, who talked about the ebb and flow of creativity in his life. It made me aware that I am not alone in facing the seemingly unstructured down times that seem to hem me in more often than I would ever wish.

Why do such things happen to us? Why do we periodically give up on art and creativity? Too busy? Too lethargic? Too overwhelmed with responsibility? Too sure our offerings will be meagre and imperfect and prove our own inadequacy? 

Probably all of the above.

What is the answer? Well, I think Julia Cameron, author of 'The Artist's Way,' devised a method of staying in tune with the creative self. The two things she recommended are daily 'morning pages' and a weekly 'artist's date.'

Morning pages are simple. Write three pages of unstructured, not-stopping, whatever is in your mind stuff. Preferably (you guessed it) every morning. These help get the gloop out of your brain, and get you into the flow. I found that mine were quite boring and often contained unimportant things like what I needed to remember to get from the store and who I had to see at three o'clock that day. But I persevered, and over time I started to see patterns. One was, how much I bash myself. The other was, how often I talk about the same problem, over and over again. Both led me to make adjustments. 

It's easier to look at someone you know or someone you are mentoring and see what they are capable of, and how often they hold back. We see their abilities, and as good friends, encourage them. And perhaps brush away their supportive comments about our own creative talent. 

I think a place to start is to first begin a gratitude journal or a gratitude practice, of listing ten things each day that we're grateful for... tea, chocolate cake, helpful people, the internet, my circa 1996 car which still starts, watermelon, box fans, my landlady's garden which I am free to enjoy, music, and the ability to binge watch on Netflix.

Then, the challenge is to get up every day and do the thing we have promised ourselves to do, no matter what. Walk in the rain, sit at the desk with an empty page in front of us, open the sketchpad, watch the next tutorial on Blender or Photoshop, or look for yet another youtube explaining what equalization (EQ) is and how do actually utilize it when mixing one's current composition.

But before that, even before engaging in the artform or the learning of skills or the practice with tools, are the basics. I hesitate to say this as it seems so mundane but since I watched a video that said artistic practice starts with this, and began to do it, I do feel like something shifted. The first thing I do when I get up is make my bed. Then I gather the tea cups and water glasses and take them to the kitchen, and do the dishes. Then I wash and dress. Then it's my walk.

I have resisted routine all my life. I feel it is boring, tedious, and I'd rather do anything but. However, engaging in these simple things every day, starting with a clean slate, opened me to the flow as much as any morning pages might do... even more... because in writing morning pages with unmade bed and messy kitchen, one has reasons to bash oneself, feel despondent, and decide to do anything else but bother to engage in art. 

It's good to be back in the flow. As part of this I finally looked at the manuscripts and notes from a novel I have been working on for some years, through more than one NaNoWriMo. I have scribbled on it here and there. Finally I said, let's take the best part, rewrite & edit it, and publish it. Finally. And then I said, let's make it a series. And then I said, book two will be a brand new story. And then I said, it will be published next month. Gulp.

My composing friends have often said, don't wait for inspiration. Keep working on it daily. This puts you in a state of readiness. This invites inspiration to visit. Do the work, and then you'll be inspired. ~