Recharging creative energy
August 27, 2007 at 14:26 Writing requires, for me, not only the actual time when I am writing, but a span of time for dreaming, taking notes, reading, meditating in the bathtub, walking alone. That peripheral time is just as crucial.
Frances Mayes, author of Under the Tuscan Sun
Di, who understands how my creative process works, sent me this quote yesterday and made me smile. Oh it is good to be understood!
Many people I know hate to be alone; they thrive on company. Others get twitchy and out of sorts whenever they’re presented with “down time” because time spent without a plan or an objective is wasted. They like every minute of their day to be scheduled. Give them a hole and they'll fill it.
I have always needed breathing space in my days—note that I said “needed,” not “wanted.” The open moments recharge my spirit and energy. When I’m not consciously focused on completing a task, then my subconscious has a chance to send all sorts of intriguing ideas, images, thoughts, and prayers to the surface of my brain. This is what inspires my writing and my art. This is what leads me to a place of inner calm. This is what fills me up so I have something to give back.
When I was working in an office, I experienced this process during my early morning commute, watching the sun come up and the starlings rise from the corn fields in a cloud of flight. Seeing the light shift and change the colors on the landscape. Listening to my favorite music as my car headed north. In the evenings, I'd walk around the lake, inhaling the scent of the woods, admiring the homes in my neighborhood.
When my children were infants, my best moments were in the night. I'd sit in the rocker nursing the baby with an unobstructed view of the stars over the tree tops outside the window. The rocking, the silence, the sense of being alone in time and space was my haven. After I returned the baby to the crib, I’d often slip down the stairs and press my forehead to the cool window pane and just lean into the night.
Once my children became mobile and vocal and slept less, life became more challenging. They filled my head and my heart every waking moment and put my sleep on edge. I was consumed with loving and caring for them, and blank moments ceased to exist in my days. I felt full of emotion and energy and yet mentally depleted.
Now they’re nearly 10 and 12 and becoming more and more self sufficient. They cook, they (sometimes) clean, and they no longer need constant supervision. They’re affectionate and funny and sometimes wise and inspiring. As long as they’re awake and in the house, they’re occupying my mental space. When they’re awake and bickering, it’s like someone is hammering on my head with a rubber mallet. I can’t stand it, and I sure can't think.
In the last few weeks, I’ve been staying up later and later, just to grab those midnight hours when the house is silent and the air full of a promising nothingness. The insomnia that sometimes fills me with anxiety has been an oasis for me lately, a dark and quiet space for me to explore my thoughts. I’ve been surprised how well I’ve been functioning on less sleep.
Today marked the first day of school. I packed lunches, organized their supplies, helped them load their backpacks, took the obligatory first day photos and then sent them off on the bus with a kiss and a prayer.
With sparkling skies and 52 degrees, it was a gorgeous morning, I turned toward the cottonwood lane, stretched my legs out, inhaled deeply, and set off for a long walk, ready to recharge, renew, refresh. Ready for another school year.
August 27, 2007
Midlife
Reader Comments (13)
This is JUST how I feel.
Last night I told Kory that for my birthday, I might want to go away to an ashram or a monastery, because I so need quiet. My whole self just neeeeds space and healing quiet.
:)
"A kiss to send you off to sleep
A hug to hold the dreams you keep
A smile to send you on your way
Greatness grows in you today."
....and they grew and grew and grew....
Unfortunately, my local insomnia has not been able to recharge my creative energy - guess that a rather ordinary slipped disc was more than sufficient to kill off whatever creative energy I had left :-)
Anyway, I loved your post and could recall the days I went through the same open moments to recharge my spirit and energy.