004. In which I almost quit before I’ve even begun
But didn’t!
I am an epically good procrastinator. Half of my last issue was written in a panic-induced flurry three hours before my third self-imposed deadline, set to a soundtrack of Knock Knock by Mac Miller on repeat—and it shows. I made like six typos, my formatting was 🤮, and by the end of my marathon typing session I had broken out in an actual sweat. So far, by the time I get to the end of my posts I find I’ve written a sort of field guide, and this is not what I set out to do here. I want to explore the dreamy/strange/otherworldly side of plants. I want to set my feet not on the ground, but on clouds or stars or another damn galaxy. I want to do whatever the fuck I want for a minute. In an effort to fight my inherent putting-things-off tendency and also to write something that feels more in line with my original intention, I’m starting extra early this week. I’m really figuring it out as I go in these first issues—misstepping and recalibrating. Finding the words and the rhythms that allow this thing scratching away at me to have room to breathe. (This is a funny/ironic intro because I’ve now been procrastinating on this issue for 4 weeks. Whatever.)
Part of my procrastination stems from the fact that my creativity seems to have dried up like a puddle under the desert sun. This upended year at home has rendered me nearly incapable of having an imaginative thought and I’m trying like hell to get that skill back because it might be one of the few perks of being a human. It’s a little funny that I’m feeling this way, at the end of what is arguably the most creative period of my life, but it appears that all the work of growing a human not only physiologically changed my brain but also sucked it dry. My efforts to harness and inspire creativity over the years have led me down a bunch of different paths, some regular and some maybe a little bonkers. I read this interview with the writer Haruki Murakami a few weeks back, was captivated by it, and have been thinking about it constantly since first reading. I’ve probably read it a dozen times at this point and each time it leaves me feeling fluttery, like the curtain has been pulled away and I’m just now in on some secret. The way he speaks about creativity is maddeningly simple, and I’m trying to embrace that and synthesize his thoughts into something I can try on for myself.
“A kind of epiphany—that’s what it was. I love baseball, and I go to the ballpark often. In 1978, when I was twenty-nine, I went to the baseball park in Tokyo to see my favorite team, the Yakult Swallows. It was opening day, a very sunny day. I was watching the game and the first batter hit a double, and at that moment I got a feeling I could write. Maybe I’d drunk too much beer—I don’t know—but at that time it was as if I’d had some kind of epiphany...after that game I went to the stationery store and bought some supplies, and then I started writing and I became a writer.”’ —Haruki Murakami
I also think a lot about Elizbeth Gilbert talking about creativity and ideas in Big Magic. A gift galloping forth like a horse, and you must be standing there with outstretched arms, ready to catch it in your grasp as it passes by, to say yes. I think, at their cores, these ideas are born of the same sentiment—creativity is there, it’s in the ether, it’s waiting for you, and all you need to do is cup your hands and catch the fluttery, fragile thing. This is, of course, easier said than done, especially in a world where we’re so very consumed by consuming and anxious about anxiety and ground to a pulp by our 9 to 5s. We so frequently forget to exercise our beautiful creative muscles, get so caught up in the whirl of making it through the day. But I think that once the shit is cleared of our cobwebby, to-do list-ridden minds we can revert back to some big-time magical thoughts. Let our freak flags fly, if you will.
“It is only through a human’s efforts that an idea can be escorted out of the ether and into the realm of the actual. Therefore, ideas spend eternity swirling around us, searching for available and willing human partners.” —Elizabeth Gilbert
Things to try/I’ve tried to help get creativity flowing:
Morning pages.
A method first published in The Artist’s Way and mentioned in nearly every article written on creativity since. I haven’t purchased the book, but from what I can gather the process is pretty simple. Every morning, before doing anything in the way of checking social media or walking the dog, you sit your butt down and write three pages. Longhand, on paper. This act of physically putting ink to notepad is supposed to help exercise your creative muscles, and apparently has elicited some pretty profound results for folks of all sorts of artistic pursuits. I haven’t started yet, but bought some legal pads a couple of weeks ago (baby steps) and am eager to give it a whirl.
Lose yourself in nature.
This has always worked for me in the past, and I find that more is better. Ten minutes in your backyard is good. Three days in the woods with no cell service is supernatural. Something about exposing oneself to extreme quantities of fresh air has a way of really quieting the noise. When I go on hikes, I can almost feel my problems slipping off my shoulders, vacating my brain—the weight gets lighter with every mile that passes. By the time I’ve rounded my 48th hour in the forest, everything from debt to grocery shopping to career goals to trimming my nails seems like small potatoes and I find myself wondering why I ever used up precious brain power pursuing these thoughts in the first place. I don’t think you have to go totally off the map if that’s not your thing, but I do think it’s important to completely remove oneself from the strappings of modernity every once in a while. Maybe this looks like a 6-day backpacking trip. Maybe it’s spending an afternoon at your favorite swimming hole, sans cell phone. Or maybe it’s tending to your garden for a few hours, hands in the earth and back to the sun. I may be wrong, but I think a large part of nourishing creative thought is making enough space in your mind for it to show up in the first place. If you’re always in logistical methodical data analyzing mode, there’s hardly any room for the dancing ephemeral thoughts of the creative brain. The Japanese tradition of Shinrin Yoku (森林浴) is in tune with this concept, and a ton of research has been done on the benefits of immersing ourselves in the trees, the water, the grass.
“Intuitively, we understand that the natural world makes us feel relaxed. The idea behind nature therapy is to clarify those effects with science, and to use them as a preventative medicine to improve wellbeing in our modern world.” — Yoshifumi Miyazaki
Get out of your head.
This builds on my above ideas on escaping to nature to make mental space, but requires less physical travel. I like to use plants to help me access the less logical, more profound parts of my brain. I sometimes think about creativity as actually moving to a different plane of existence, at least internally. Where the day-to-day parts of being alive are done here on earth in our houses and in our cars, these creative bits exist somewhere that looks decidedly more like outer space. I know, how literal. If I can float up to that ether with a bit of help from some plant friends, then great. To be clear, I’m not talking about psychedelics or even weed here—though they can 100% percent get the job done. If that’s your thing and feels good and it works for you I’m all for it. I’m talking about gentler nudges like mugwort, passionflower, kava. I do think that the mechanism is much the same—can you relax your brain into a less grounded state? If psychedelics are an escalator to celestial thought, these plants are a stepstool. You can still see the ground, but you can also touch some clouds. Let’s expand on these beauties:
Kava (Piper Methysticum) Kava is the plant I turn to when I most need to feel like I’m floating. When my mind is feeling claustrophobic from being tethered to my physical body and I am much too aware of the limitations of existing as human rather than soul. Kava is native to the Pacific Islands and has a long traditional use as a ritualistic aid and as a social beverage. It can be used to commune with the spirit world and with the world around you in equal measure. The tea or tincture of Kava introduce themselves with a pleasant, slight numbing of the tongue. Shortly after, muscles unwind, the tongue unknots itself, and the mind unfurls like a snake lifting its head from a long sleep. It is a supreme ally for times when there is a need for deep relaxation but also heightened communication, making it a very good buddy to accompany you on creative journeys.
Plant as animal: A gentle, bright green snake twined around your arm and whispering sweetly in your ear.
Passionflower (Passiflora incarnata) Oh passionflower, how I love thee. This plant is a beauty to work with because it is both eye candy and lovely, lovely medicine. I turn to Passionflower when everything is getting to be a bit too much, when stress has seeped into the crevices and I need to shake it loose. It has the unique ability among plants to relax both physical and emotional tension by working on the musculoskeletal system as well as the nervous system. It's gentle and mild, safe even for children, but powerfully effective. Passionflower can be useful for breaking loose from circular, anxious thinking—a kind hand reaching in to tug you off the carousel. I favor this babe in tincture form, and I take frequently and liberally, but it’s also lovely extracted in vegetable glycerin—the sweetness of the glycerin pairs well with the sweet temperament of Passionflower’s medicine.
Plant as animal: A faithful dog, leading the way but always looking back to see that you haven’t been left behind.
Mugwort (Artemesia vulgaris) If you’ve dug into dreamwork even a little bit, you’ve almost certainly been introduced to Mugwort. This plant is arguably the mascot of the dream world. If you’ve ever wanted juicy & delicious supernatural thoughts to come to you through your unconscious sleeping mind, Mugwort is the guide to lead you down that path. Think of it as hanging out with that one friend who always leads you on an unexpected adventure. You never quite know where you’re going to end up, but it almost definitely won’t be where you were headed when you began. My favorite way to use this bb is to do a little neck/shoulder/temple massage with some infused oil before bedtime, but you can also smoke or burn the leaves or make a lovely little calming tea.
Plant as animal: Clever fox, causing mischief in the night.
Harness some flower magic.
Flower essences are a little abstract, but a lot of fun. The basic premise is that the *vibrational essence* of a given flower is infused into water by using time and sun (or moon!) light. These potions are similar to homeopathic medicine in the way they are so diluted that there isn’t actually any measurable amount of plant constituents in the water. So—no chemicals, just energy. Stick with me here. The thought is that a flower essence is so dilute and its influence so gentle that it can penetrate much deeper into the body than something like a tincture would. It is said that essences are able to get to an auric, soul-deep level of the body. Think of it this way: if you’re massaging a tight muscle, you wouldn’t begin with forceful, vigorous movements—the muscle would just tense and you’d never get past the surface and no progress would be made. No, you’d start slow and gentle, getting the muscle to relaxxx and open up, allowing you to get deeper and work out the innermost kinks and knots. Same concept. I’d recommend giving it a shot if you’re feeling adventurous and/or witchy. You can buy essences ready-made (here, here, and here), and there are some handy books that list out ailments and their flower pairing BUT they are also stupidly simple to make at home. Like so:
I was going to write out the steps, but actually here’s a link because I just remembered I’m not writing a field guide!
Submerge.
Swim, dive, dip, bathe. This is my go-to brain unlocker. My never-fail, ride-or-die partner in remembering that I am a unique and thoughtful person. Something about the act of slipping into a tub full of hot water just really does it for my mind. That’s all I have to say about that. Take a bath ❤️
Go deep into your mind.
Meditation is maybe a bit of an obvious suggestion, but for good reason! I’ve done some really powerful work with unleashing my creative prowess using guided meditations. Plus, anything that can help settle a frazzled mind and body is welcome and necessary. These are my favorite platforms: One! Two!
I think it’s important to also address what might be killing your/my/collective creativity. This is one of those circumstances where working backward by process of elimination can be helpful in allowing solutions to present themselves.
What kills my creativity quick like a bunny;
Typing on the computer.
Trying to access the dreamy, floating, ethereal realms of my brain that produce beautiful, creative thoughts and working in front of a glowing square of technology cannot coexist for me. Words first, typing later. It’s inefficient, but I’ve noticed that I’ll be in a good mindset, sentences snaking happily through my mind, and within seconds of opening my computer I come crashing down. I go from brainstorm deliciousness to deleting errant commas quicker than I can even register. This doesn’t warrant much investigating, I think it’s fairly clear why a computer screen scares off good creative thoughts. Blank page, blinking taunting cursor, gross blue light, etc etc. When I do finally move to the digital page, I find that making certain tweaks help. I change the font—times new Roman is a fun-sucker. I change the type color to something less black and formal—violet or turquoise or emerald. I pop in headphones and listen to some weird ambient spacey music (I like ‘music for plants’ and ‘floating through space’ on Spotify.) I dim the screen, dim the lights, meditate for a few minutes before I sit down. Anything that can bring me out of my body—I like being in a headspace that feels as if I could maybe levitate for a second if I wanted to.
Social media.
C’mon, you knew this was going to be on the list. This is a double-sided coin—I’ve often felt inspired by what other folks are doing on my Instagram feed, but much more along the lines of ‘ooh I’d really like to try that craft’ or ‘how can I put together an outfit like that’ than ‘this motivates me to write captivating narrative’. Most often it leads to lost minutes (ok, hours), a sort of sick despairing feeling, a nasty bout of envy, and the sudden urge to buy furry green platforms. 🤷♀️ This isn’t to say that there aren’t a jillion creative geniuses on social media platforms, there 100% are, its just I personally tend to go to a weird dark envious place after scrolling for a bit. Something I’m working on, but I know I’m also not alone here.
Going too fast.
This is a biiiig one for me. I get in this rhythm of going about my day, checking off to-dos and tending to the immediate needs of my household and at some point I’ll notice that my muscles are all clenched, my face feels flushed, and I’ve drunk too much coffee but no water. When I’m trying to get a lot done, I start to feel rushed. And for me personally, when I feel rushed I feel panicked. Like, physically sick and anxious. I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t possibly do anything creative while panicking and washing dishes. If I take time to physically slow my body down, to consciously relax while performing xyz mundane activity, I can move back into a parasympathetic state.
Ok folks there you have it. My musings on wtf creativity even is, cleverly disguised as a list of helpful suggestions. Hopefully something works and it won’t take me a month and a half to write the next issue!
Love you!
Jessica
4 Good Things:
This photo essay as a visual representation of forest bathing. Beautiful to look at and directly related to today’s topic 😉
@polly_pick_pocket on Instagram. I was enamored with tiny Polly Pocket worlds as a kid and am thinking maybe it’s time to rekindle that love in the form of a collection?
This song, which I recommend playing on loop while rereading my last newsletter, or any newsletter.
A lil magical motivation:
