Category: Creativity

  • Unpopular Opinion: Creative Incubation Is Not Laziness

    Unpopular Opinion: Creative Incubation Is Not Laziness

    (Above: a still shot from the 2022 video game, Stray. Video games are an excellent past-time for creative incubation.)

    There once was a British dude named Graham Wallas who developed one of the first models for the stages of the creative process. Many artists are familiar with these stages: preparation, incubation, illumination, and verification. Today, let’s just talk about the incubation stage.

    What is Creative Incubation?

    Incubation is the point in the creative process that comes after you have been actively researching or working on a problem. It involves departing from active contemplation and engaging in other unrelated activities in order to allow the unconscious mind to work on it in the background. Like a slow-cooker, incubation simmers together all the inputs from the “preparation” stage for an indeterminate amount of time, leading to the rise of some creative new solution: the “illumination” stage or “eureka” moment.

    For instance, let’s say you see an Internet video about a wolf living at a wild animal sanctuary. The next day, you read a fiction novel before bed, and a wolf appears before the protagonist. A week later, you have a dream about wolves. Then, on the forested drive home from work, you spot a pair of eyes gleaming from the side of the road. Eventually, you start to notice the recurring theme, and you wonder what that’s all about. Then suddenly, something magical happens: you receive some insight about staying loyal to your “pack” or something else a wolf might symbolize; or maybe you find inspiration for a new creative project about wolves.

    In the spiritual community, some might call these repeat occurrences a “sign from the divine” or an “omen” or a “synchronicity.” In the scientific community, they might call it confirmation bias. Whether you are of a more spiritual or scientific leaning is irrelevant; the point is that these seemingly intentional repetitions stick out to our brains, which are wired for noticing and interpreting patterns. If you choose to be open and curious enough, you will hear the universe speaking to you in this way.

    The kind of insight and inspiration worthy of goosebumps doesn’t often come when we are working diligently or when our conscious mind is very active and focused. The nature of the incubation phase is to be unfocused, to wander and daydream, to be living unconsciously so as to allow the unconscious mind a chance to peek above the surface. When you received those disparate pings about wolves, you were not working at your desk, but mindlessly scrolling social media, winding down with a book before bed, asleep and dreaming, or driving home on auto-pilot.

    The Capitalist ‘Laziness’ Narrative

    None of these activities are inherently productive. And that goes against the capitalist narrative that anything that isn’t directly related to chasing dollars or status is, at best, a waste of time, or at worst, a selfish indulgence. But that mindset usually only leads to self-effacement and burnout. Take it from someone who has been there, too: it isn’t a healthy or sustainable way to live. And the truth is, doing things that aren’t inherently productive or actively creative is still part of the creative process.

    Let’s say you don’t feel like working on your wolf project. Maybe you’re feeling sick or uninspired or just not in the mood (ultimately, it doesn’t matter why, and you don’t have to offer excuses). So you bum around watching TV for a bit. That’s still part of the creative process. That TV show is giving your brain some substance to gnash on, which may or maybe not be relevant at a later time.

    Everything you do and experience and see and feel each day goes into your nervous system and your memory bank. From there, the inputs are processed by your unconscious algorithm, the thing responsible for dreaming up the outputs. In other words, it’s all fodder for producing something else.

    Activities for Incubation

    So, in a culture that tends to overvalue productivity and action, how can you be more intentional about de-shaming your need for incubation time? What kinds of activities do you think might help you rest and incubate?

    Here are ten simple ideas to help you catch ideas:

    1. Watch a TV show or read a book in the same genre as your project or dealing with similar themes.
    2. Go on a walk and connect with nature. Walking is a form of bilateral stimulation that calms the nervous system and improves communication across different parts of the brain.
    3. Do some gentle, flowing, or rhythmic movement, like tai chi, yoga, or qi gong. Sometimes I’ll do some light Muay Thai shadowboxing in the morning because the blood flow helps to get my brain in gear.
    4. Make a home-cooked dinner. Yes, that’s part of the creative process, too! You have to eat to live, and you have to live to make art! Take a nice, long, satisfying poop, too.
    5. Practice mindfulness. This ranges from breathwork and visualization to mindful eating and somatic experiencing.
    6. Create a Pinterest board or physical vision board depicting a character in your novel, an environment you’d like to capture in a song, or something unapologetically unrelated to your work.
    7. Color in a page of a coloring book and give it to a stranger.
    8. Plant something in a pot and talk to it as you water it and watch it grow over the next few weeks.
    9. Talk to your creative project. Ask for what you need, especially if it’s a week or two of space from thinking about it at all.
    10. Get a good night’s sleep. Wind down with some yoga and binaural beats, a cup of chamomile with ashwagandha, or cuddle time with your fur baby, and then go to bed early. (Bonus: In the morning, write down any dreams you can remember!)

    Following the Flow

    You won’t feel the same every single day. One day, you may feel super positive, and so the prospect of writing a heart-breaking scene might feel really out of alignment. Listen to that and don’t force it. Trust that you will feel what you must in order to write that heart-breaking scene on some other day, and be okay with today just not being that day.

    Instead, focus on what is easily available to you today. Maybe you run with that super positive mood and find some other areas of your story to flesh out that do match that energy. Maybe you’re actually not feeling positive at all, and you’re having a sucky day. That, too, is part of the creative process. In that case, put the work aside and see which of your incubation activities might resource you the most right now.

    You’re simply not meant to force yourself to do anything that doesn’t feel like flow. Give yourself permission to NOT work harder, and instead work smarter – and sometimes, that means not working at all. Feel around for where the flow is at this particular moment – because it will always change from day to day. That’s the joy of the creative process.

    A Relationship With Joy

    You know, sometimes, maybe it’s okay to allow yourself some peace. It’s really okay to not feel okay.

    It’s also okay to allow yourself some joy.

    Creativity is no more and no less than a relationship with your joy. Some people call it the inner child, the muse, the “genius” in the house. It’s the unique and fully individual light that comes from within, the spirit within. And sometimes that spirit doesn’t wanna go to the river!! …even though we had that artist date planned for today.

    Ultimately, what’s the point of the Artist Date? It’s only to foster that relationship. This is a good reminder not to do things just because you feel like you should, or because someone told you to, or because our capitalist society overglorifies discipline, but rather to align your actions with what those things represented in the first place. If the goal of the Artist Date is to foster a relationship with your joy, well, your joy told you it doesn’t want to go. So listen to it. Ask that child what they do want to do instead:

    “So tell me, Joy, how would you like to spend today? I’ll follow you wherever you lead, loved one.”

  • Patience: The Path of Least Resistance

    Patience: The Path of Least Resistance

    Have you ever experienced resistance in the moments leading up to creating your art? Have you ever sat down at your laptop to write and found it immensely difficult to open your word processor or to decide what to write next? Then do you start to wonder, what’s happening on those days when getting started is actually easy?

    One of my intentions of late is to follow the path of least resistance – literally, to embrace and follow what’s easiest. I think this has to do with patience.

    Normalizing Resistance

    When it’s hard to get started, I’m usually anxious. Anxious about the effort that goes into warming up. About the writing itself. About where in the writing to pick up. About money. About trying to figure out and analyze the story so far in order to create the story. About getting the day’s word count clocked. And all of this anxiety is resistance.

    If you have experienced resistance like this, first just know that resistance is totally normal. It’s a block that every artist encounters in one way or another, at some point or another. And it’s also a necessary part of the creative process.

    I personally believe that what an artist creates, or how much she creates, or how well, is actually less important than the deep internal work required to overcome the resistance of creating it. The never-ending battle to overcome resistance is the artistic process; it is the meaningful life work of an artist.

    Resistance As Nervous System Dysregulation

    First let’s talk about what resistance really is and what it feels like in the body. If you’ve read The War of Art by Steven Pressfield, you may be familiar with the same tired patriarchal advice to GET YOUR LAZY ASS UP and FORCE YOUR BRAIN INTO GEAR and JUST DO IT!!! Respectfully, Mr. Pressfield, I’d like to offer a less brutalistic way to understand resistance for those who are actually more likely to suffer and fail horribly under authoritarian discipline.

    Polyvagal Theory: A Brief Overview

    We can better understand resistance as nervous system dysregulation. I highly recommend doing your own research on Polyvagal Theory or working with a somatic coach if this interests you, as I will now offer only a brief overview here.

    In essence, Polyvagal Theory says that evolution designed the nervous system to be able to respond to threats with different strategies: fight, flight, or freeze. While these nervous system states are certainly helpful for staying alive when a lion attacks you, this isn’t a scenario we often see in the modern world. Instead, the threats we encounter in modern society tend to endure over longer periods or resolve covertly outside of the body’s awareness. So, the body will get stuck in one of these states if it continues to perceive the threat or if it does not experience an overt transition after the threat is gone.

    Polyvagal Theory In A Creative Context

    When it comes to creativity, these nervous system states – fight, flight, and freeze – are a few of the faces of resistance. You may relate to “fight” if your resistance looks like workaholism, urgency, a need to control, or hypervigilance. If your resistance feels like “flight,” you might experience avoidance, withdrawal, or restlessness. For those who experience “freeze,” notice what’s happening in your body when you draw a blank, feel unmotivated, or dissociate with doomscrolling or other numbing addictions.

    There is only one absolute certainty about art-making: resistance will always show up. If resistance is a guarantee, then perhaps we can take some comfort in expecting it. Might our artist’s journey then also comprise keeping a toolbox of guaranteed strategies for coping with it?

    One for the Toolbox: Patience

    What Is Patience?

    What do we mean by “patience”? In The Creative Act, Rick Rubin talks about patience as the acceptance of “what is,” rather than wishing reality were different in any way. This is similar to gratitude, a form of acceptance that emphasizes one’s positive reaction to a positive aspect of reality. Patience, on the other hand, is a more neutral and nonjudgmental acceptance of reality, for better or for worse. Simply put, patience accepts a shit sandwich, while gratitude celebrates a delicious sandwich.

    Using Patience to Address Dysregulation

    When I am experiencing that “fight-or-flight” type of resistance, it feels like my internal state is constantly moving, impatiently urging me to move at lightning speed to get to my self-prescribed destination. At the same time, the world is constantly in flux, shifting and moving around us, too. I more often find myself getting stuck in my creative process when I’m feeling chaos both internally and externally.

    Patience helps me to slow all that rapid energy down. I practice “accepting what is.” I accept my internal state, no matter the good or the bad, by sitting still and listening to it without any judgment. Stillness builds, and I become aware of the contrast between my internal state and the chaotic world outside. Suddenly, I am the one who is completely still, and the world outside is the one who can’t stop moving. There is contrast. A restless internal world will experience stuckness in the outer world; a still internal world will perceive the chaos to be in the outer world.

    Patience Is For HSPs

    I cannot recommend the practice of patience enough, especially to those who are highly sensitive. Sometimes, maybe it’s not that you are too sensitive to external stimulation, but that you are overwhelmed by existing internal stimulation that’s been stuck there for too long. Radical acceptance of your internal state means slowing down enough for your nervous system to realize it is safe.

    The Muse Thrives In Safety

    If the restless energy of “fight-or-flight” is what creates resistance, then stillness is what our inherently creative inner child needs to feel playful and active. Stillness and nervous system safety are one and the same.

    I like to imagine that ideal nervous system state of safety as a place. For me, it’s a secluded library-study, deep within like an underground bomb shelter, shrouded in the most absolute darkness and privacy. Sometimes, it’s a vibrantly green forest and the sound of a soft breeze in the foliage. What does that place look and feel like for you?

    Here in your place of safety and emptiness, innocence and inspiration (aspects of the inner child) can emerge. Innocence is a childlike mind with no preconceptions, biases, or rules that can discover countless never-before thought-of solutions, ideas, and methods. Likewise, an empty mind (through the practice of patient stillness) invites inspiration into its vacuum.

    A Patient Writing Practice

    To sum up, patience is the practice of employing a radical acceptance mindset to our anxieties. Much of acceptance comes down to letting go of control and trusting the universe (or Spirit or the muse or whatever you believe in).

    We often sit at the empty page, trying to figure out what comes next. But maybe, we don’t need to know the full picture. If we have just a small window of the picture, we can get started writing, and we can trust the muse to reveal more as we go and as it is relevant. When we are in the flow, we don’t know what’s coming around the bend. We don’t try to adjust according to what we think may be coming. Instead, we trust our intuition and senses to be able to react in our best interest when the bend does arrive and reveal whatever it reveals.

    In other words, we show radical acceptance toward all areas of uncertainty. Allow questions to be intentions and nothing more. Our only job is just to ask the question, not to go searching for the answer. The answer is entirely up to the muse, and we just have to trust that it will be revealed when the time is right.

    As Rick Rubin says, “All we can do is invite it in and await it actively.” So once you’ve slowed down enough to regain your sense of safety, just set an intention or ask a question. Then do nothing else but listen patiently for a response. Because doing nothing is the easiest thing in the world – it’s the path of least resistance.

  • Is Art Necessary for Survival?

    Is Art Necessary for Survival?

    While living through major catastrophes like the COVID-19 pandemic and Hurricane Helene, I struggled to make the argument that art is necessary for survival. When it comes to what feels like the apocalypse, after all, it’s hard to equate making art with things like farming, engineering, and a multitude of other useful skills. It’s true that the human race (at least in this modernized society) would not survive in the short term without those necessary skills. But I believe that art is absolutely necessary for survival in the long term, just in a different way.

    Art Raises the Bottom Line

    Take someone who is unhappy, ineffective, and unwhole, for example. What good does a depressed person offer to society? They can’t offer much in that state. But because we live in a civilization, resources are given to that person to help them survive in the short term. Yet instead, art could potentially heal them permanently, transforming them into someone who is able to contribute and create.

    Yes, art has that kind of power; it grants us the power to move through suffering, to meet our shadow, and to allow outcasted parts to come home. The more healed people are, the fewer who need welfare and other social services. Art literally raises the bottom line of society through its healing effects.

    These were the arguments I would tell myself, as I longed for art to be seen by society – as I longed for myself to be seen by society – as something just as valuable as a trade. And these reasons are good and valid. However, here is another idea that we maybe haven’t considered yet.

    The Key to Human Evolution

    Take what I’m about to say next with a grain of salt, because obviously it is a strong generalization and there are frequent exceptions. In my experience, people who are drawn to making art tend to be, at best, quite unhappy (which is why they need art), and at worst, quite miserable at any other occupation (usually due to neurodivergence). But they still pursue other occupations because society has told them that their art is not valuable and won’t provide them money for their survival. This is how malinformed, internalized cultural biases block creatives’ inner light and create depressed people.

    First, I should define what I mean by “inner light.” Inner light is, in essence, the soul and its creativity. It is a person’s potential, representing what their spirit is here to offer. (What a spirit has to offer could be many things and not just art, such as scientific study, engineering, tradesmanship, entrepreneurship, etc. – for these things are all creative, too.) This inner light grows brighter when fed experiences that bring it joy and pleasure. It grows darker when denied joy and pleasure. A person can never lose their inner light. However, it may grow so dim that they effectively resemble a walking dead.

    Now, I believe this inner light is the key to evolution. Our species is really quite incredible, if you think about it. Look back on human history for a moment. We evolved from apes, essentially, and developed technology – how?

    Through our creativity.

    We drew paintings on cave walls and divined about ethereal beings when we were barely more than monkeys. Each act of creativity brought us closer to where we are now. I believe humanity evolved to be so successful, proliferating across the entire planet, precisely because of our advanced ability to create through play. This inner light is what led us all the way to this point in our evolution.

    How did I come to believe this?

    Well, I had to ask myself, why do I have this inner light? What purpose does it serve? Is its purpose merely to be a reminder of how much I hate my day job? Merely here to represent a contrast between what I wish to do and what I must do? Here to make life miserable? Is life supposed to be miserable? And I did believe this for such a long, long time…

    But no, life is not supposed to be miserable. Here’s how I know this: The more I follow the inner light, the more I slowly start to believe that life is actually supposed to be joyful. Life actually wants joy for us.

    Life can be a scary, sad place. AND it doesn’t have to be.

    This creative inner light serves the same purpose as a compass. It shows us where we need to go, for our own survival. With this understanding, we can reframe depression as just the calling of a dimmed soul. It’s not here to remind us how much life is supposed to suck. It’s here to remind us that life can be so much better, if we just start to follow it.

    If the inner light sounds like a spiritual concept, it is. But it also doesn’t have to be. It’s grounded in science, too. (Another misconception in our Western culture is that spirituality and science are at odds; rarely, in fact, are they not fully in alignment with one another, revealing the same mystery through unique perspectives.) Don’t believe me? Go ahead and read up on studies about creativity in human evolution and the healing effects of art for individuals and communities.

    Useless?

    So I ask myself again why I have this inner light. I ask myself, if art doesn’t contribute to human survival, then what use is the artist to society? What use am I…? Art is the only thing I am capable of. Am I just…useless? Is who I am at my core simply incapable, simply not fit for survival?

    Then I think about how many individuals and ancestors had to live and reproduce successfully since the days of the apes in order for me to exist. I am literally the result of thousands of years of evolution – and evolution only chooses the fittest to survive.

    Sorry, capitalists, but evolution has had the final say: If artists exist, then it means we are fit for survival. Which means: we are important for survival.

    This inner light must have been built into us through evolution. Why else would we have it? If art-making was truly responsible for making individuals useless and not fit for survival, then artists would simply have ceased to exist.

    The Fittest Are Creative

    So why does evolution favor the existence of artists and art-making?

    Because art is necessary for survival in the long term, not just the short term.

    Art ensures the longevity of the human race as a whole, not just immediate survival for a single individual. Why? Because art heals. It processes and dissolves trauma. It prevents the passing down of trauma through epigenetics. It teaches lessons that help us to be better people and live fuller, happier, more effective lives. It rehabilitates those who are lost and depressed. It raises society’s bottom line. And it facilitates healing and connection-building within entire communities. And we know that no one survives long in the wild without the belonging and support of a community.

    The Survival Power of Art

    In 2020, at the height of the pandemic, I saw a lot of people talking about how art is not “essential,” and many interpreted that to mean it is not necessary for survival. Perhaps, those who actually believe this are just short-sighted, focused on the short term. Or maybe they lack the humility to acknowledge the innate survival power in healing, connection, and community — all of which art facilitates.

    So, if you are ever made to doubt whether your art is important, or whether art as a whole is important, take comfort in knowing that thousands of years of evolution have occurred in favor of you and your voice existing.