Posted by: micheleberger on: November 8, 2009
There are few times that I get down about living in a small town in North Carolina, but this weekend is one of them. I have been excited about the film debut of Precious for weeks. I thought I was going to see the film and do a bit of film analysis on the blog, since I have read and taught PUSH by Sapphire (the powerful novel that that film is based on), for years. But, alas it is not opening anywhere in the Raleigh/Durham area until Nov 20! So I can’t write about the film. I can, however, share a bit about how Sapphire’s coming into her own as a writer at 40, along with other writers and activists, who started their journeys later in life, have been an inspiration to me.
Two weekends ago, I was watching MILK, the incredible story of the gay activist Harvey Milk. Early in the film, he picks up a man who will become his long term lover. At this time Harvey Milk is a closeted gay man. Right after the clock strikes on his 40th birthday, he says to his lover plaintively, “I’ve haven’t done a single thing I’m proud of.” (I’m paraphrasing). With his lover’s urging, they move to San Francisco, reinvent themselves and within a year, he is on the path that will eventually shape the modern gay rights movement.
When I have students read PUSH, I ask them to also read an interview with her conducted by Patricia Bell Scott in Flat-Footed Truths: Telling Black Women’s Lives. Here is an excerpt from that interview:
“Although I had been writing for some time, I was almost forty before I claimed my identity as a writer. In 1990, when I did my last major performance, a fifty minute choreopoem, ‘Are You Ready to Rock,’ my business manager, a wonderful young African American woman, said to me, “If I’m going to promote you as a writer, where’s the writing? Where’s the book?” I was trying to do the performance work, trying to write, and none of it was making a living. I was exhausted. Dead tired. And I couldn’t go on.
I went through an intense midlife-turning forty crisis. I felt that I had not really done much with my life, when I compared myself to mentors like Ntozake [Shange], who had five or six books. Then I looked at some of the reasons I hadn’t tried. A lack of confidence-a belief that maybe I couldn’t do it or that I wasn’t good or smart enough. I also realized that I had never committed myself to any one thing. I had always tried to dance, act and write at the same time.
With this awareness, I decided to totally commit myself to becoming a writer. I said “I will put together a collection of writings for publication,” and that became American Dreams. I said, “I will go to school and get an MFA degree”; and I did.”
Witnessing Harvey Milk’s decision to begin over again at 40 and Sapphire’s commitment to writing at 40 makes me grateful about manifesting my creative work at this stage in my life (41). It’s only been recently that I’ve come to appreciate that the path to your heart’s desire is rarely straight and narrow, or, progress easily demarcated strictly by one’s age.
I’ve always been somewhat enchanted with child stars and people who seem to achieve big things early in their careers. And, it’s true that as an academic, I’ve had solid and early professional success, so I can’t complain on that front. I’ve, however, been creatively writing all my life, but it is has only been in the last ten years that I’ve made more space for that identity to flourish. I used to be more convinced that something needed to happen at a particular age: 20, 25, and 38. I’m now less worried about age being a gauge of inner or outer success. I do think that by midlife, people are usually getting intuitive prompts, urgings and guidance about new directions, if they have been blocked. This often leads to new commitments to pursue buried or unrealized dreams.
I am also cheered by examples of writers including Amy Tan and Toni Morrison that didn’t start their writing careers until their late thirties or early 40s. PUSH is a remarkable novel and I think the skill and focus it took to craft it might not had happened if Sapphire had not lived a full and complex life (sex worker, writer, incest survivor, performance artist, teacher), and faced her internal demons and doubts squarely in the face as a mature woman. Her life and other ‘over thirty’ creative bloomers are useful reminders of the arc of human potential.
I hope that you will read PUSH and see the film. So, if you’re lucky enough to live in a place where it is opening this weekend, go see it. Seeing the film sends a message to Hollywood that the viewing public is interested in being challenged and hearing new stories.
I’ve included a link to Sapphire being interviewed on NPR:
Sapphire’s Story: How ‘Push’ Became ‘Precious’
All things considered: NOV 6 – 2009
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=120176695
Posted by: micheleberger on: October 31, 2009
This is the time of year that most of us start worrying about the flu and taking safeguards to build up our immunity. Our immune system is very important as it works to protect our bodies from germs and ideally, helps the body keep a balanced inner ‘terrain’. I’d like to propose that this is also a great time of year to consider your creativity as a practice that supports your health.
We can often feel the physical effects of being creative immediately in our bodies. They usually include an upbeat outlook, feeling intense curiosity, better energy and greater control over our moods. We know that our brains reward creative activity by producing more dopamine and serotonin, important hormones. And, that is great brain juice! We also know when most people create that they are in the ‘alpha’ brain wave state which is a relaxed state that lowers blood pressure and produces more endorphins. Neuroscientists like Nancy Andreasen (The Creating Brain) also point to ‘brain plasticity’ (neural adaptations and new neural pathways) that creative thinking encourages.
Stories from doctors about their clients as well as others in the healing professions have provided good anecdotal evidence about creativity and health. There is also growing clinical research on the interrelationship between creativity and health. Research has shown that people who are creatively challenged at work keep themselves healthier. And studies are being conducted across the country to look at the effects of creativity on stress, resistance to illness and as a strong boost to immune function.
So, here are some tips for building your immunity through creativity this fall:
—Spread your fertilizer. First, recognize that on a metaphorical level, it hurts not to create. Clarissa Pinkola Estes has said, in her work, that we can think of creativity as a type of rich excrement in us. And, that we need to use it, or get it out of our bodies, daily. And if we don’t use it, you know what happens? It backs up in us and makes us feel…well, you know, like we have a lot of unused fertilizer lying around inside of us. When you haven’t been creating very much, don’t you feel sort of backed up? Don’t you feel sluggish when you’re not consistently writing, drumming, acting, singing, dancing, etc? And, then when you create something, anything, doesn’t your body feel better, almost immediately? Ask yourself for the next couple of weeks: Am I letting my precious fertilizer back up? If so, what can I do in the next ten minutes that will stimulate my creativity?
–Make more great brain juice: Our brains invite creativity when we are able to slip into a quieter and relaxed state of mind. Getting relaxed is different for everyone. An hour in the garden may produce lovely relaxing results for someone. Another person might love to create a collage, or plan a dinner party for sixteen people. If taking a long luxurious bath helps to really relax you, then by all means make sure you do it. It doesn’t matter—identify what really relaxes you and commit to doing it for at least ten minutes a day. Regard those precious ten minutes as the down payment on the long term outcome of a stronger immune system.
–Practice ‘walk-by creativity’. A dear friend of mine used to grow and arrange flowers. I would visit her at her office and often did not expect to see the most artfully arranged group of wild flowers sitting in a vase on a table in the lobby outside her office. There was no good reason that they were there except she wanted other people to enjoy their beauty. This is an example of what I like to call ‘walk-by creativity’. You’re just walking by and you notice something another human being has created and you enjoy the moment. What about creating a walk-by-creative moment for someone else? Is there something that you can make, or do, so that when someone walks by your desk, patio, lobby, window, etc., it catches their breath, eyes and intrigues? I encourage you to delight someone with your creative expression.
–Be an inspiration detective for one month. Many people tell me that they wait to be creative for when they feel inspired. But when I ask them: What inspires you? They often don’t know because they have been waiting for so long that the creative impulse has ebbed far away. Waiting for inspiration often means that we treat our creativity like this rare crinoline dress we get to wear only on special occasions. Sometimes many other things get attached to this ‘waiting for inspiration’ moment. I’ve found that it usually means I’m waiting for the perfect magical moment when there won’t be “too much to do”, I’ll be the perfect size, and I’ll have learned how to stop judging myself. The problem is that if we wait too long to start being creative then our anxieties, guilt, and unused fertilizer builds. Then, in the middle of the night we desperately race to the closet, snatch the dress off the silk hanger and stuff ourselves into it. This is usually not a pleasant experience. So, why don’t you, for the next month, actively notice what you’re inspired by and allow that to lead to your own relationship with the creative process? If you’ve forgotten what inspires you to be creative: Keep finishing the questions:
What inspires me? Where are some new places that I can look for inspiration?
Treat the inspiration to create as a great mystery.
–Laugh yourself into better immunity-Research has popped up all over the place supporting the connection between laughter and health. Deep belly laughter gives the heart and diaphragm a great work out, relaxes the muscles, and stimulates the immune system. Several years ago, I went to a ‘laugh –a-yoga’ session and discovered that as adults we often don’t laugh deeply, and/or for no reason. Babies and very young children are always laughing deeply and for no reason. The best thing is there is no wrong way to do a deep belly laugh. What a relief! And, as Diane Ealy, expert on women’s creative cycles, says “Ha-Ha=Aha” (The Woman’s Book of Creativity). When you’re laughing you’re more likely to feel creative. Laughing allows us to shift our perspective and the ability to see new ideas and approaches. And, that is what creativity is all about.
Posted by: micheleberger on: October 24, 2009
Lily Yeh is my new creativity hero. She has worked in inner city Phila on creative collaborative based partnerships and with people affected by the Rwanda genocide. She recently talked about her life’s work serving communities through creativity at a Bioneers conference. This short speech knocked me off my feet. Watch her video (parts 1, 2 and 3) to remember that creativity is one of humanity’s most powerful resources.
Below is the link–cut and paste it into your browser. If for some reason it doesn’t come up, go to YouTube and type in Lily Yeh-Bioneers Conference.
Go and check out her story, I gurantee you, you will feel transformed.
Posted by: micheleberger on: October 12, 2009
Many creative people lead double lives. We lead the life that is about driving to work, worrying about 401Ks, paying the bills and making sure we leave the house with clean underwear. We also lead the lives of joy professionals, lost in our creative musings and dreaming the impossible. I was recently reminded how wonderful it can be to find another person who is creative, who is no longer leading the split double life, but one where the creative life has burst out onto the open.
For seven years, I have gone to the campus book store to order my books for classes and research. One of the managers on staff has always been professional, witty and particularly helpful. I relish my interactions with her. She’s an unassuming woman with gray hair, brown eyes and a crooked smile. Recently, while reading the campus newspaper, I discovered that this same manager had just published her first novel and was having book reading. Now, if I’m honest, I’m not always so excited about someone else’s writing success. My ego tends to immediately get stalled into tap-dancing comparison mode and my self-talk sounds like the voice of Faye Dunaway (playing Joan Crawford) from the film Mommie Dearest. Maybe this is not true for you and you have trained your ego, when feeling competitive or inadequate, to run along and do laps in your mental nicey-nicey pool and leave you alone. Lucky you. In the last year though, I’ve been trying to make a friend, or at least an acquaintance with how my ego handles being confronted with someone else’s good writing fortune.
A close friend of mine once explained her definition of envy and jealousy. Envy is when someone has something that you desire, and you want it for yourself, but you’re OK that they have it; you still wish them the best. Jealousy, is different, in that you want what they have and feel like that they don’t deserve it and you definitely don’t want them to have it. Envy and jealousy provide important emotions for creative people to consciously explore (as opposed to being tyrannized by).
Anyway, while reading about her success, I didn’t start breaking out in a panic or become flooded with feelings of envy or jealousy. Instead, another feeling came over me—gratitude. I was totally thrilled for this woman. I was grateful that she had broken through the solitude of the writing life and was on the other side-a published writer. I also was delighted by the fact that she lived a double life—book manger by day and writer by night (or weekend). The creative side of her double life was now out into the open. Unfortunately, I was teaching class when she was giving her reading and was bummed that I couldn’t attend. I had to find out more.
Last week, I made sure to go to the book store, buy her autographed book and speak with her. She was very gracious and humble (my ego liked that) and said she was just amazed at the reception of the book. She had gotten rave reviews and a well known writer had written a superb blub for her novel. I told her what a thrill it was to know someone who was living a double life. I asked if I could take her out for tea to celebrate her success and talk about the process of writing. While talking to her, I was also monitoring my interior voice. I looked around for signs of my ego’s insincerity and jealousy. It was still suspiciously quiet. I was truly happy for her.
As we chatted, and talked about making time for the writing life she said, “Oh you should see my house. I used to think if people saw my untidy house, they’d take my kids away!” We laughed at what sacrifices sometimes need to be made to get our work done. I love people who reveal their foibles to a stranger! She had wondered if she would feel ‘ho-hum’ about her own book coming out since she worked in a bookstore and is always surrounded by amazing books. She told me that once she held her book in her hand, she wasn’t ho-hum – she thought it was great, cool and exhilarating! I can’t wait to find out more of her story …
I’m reminded of how powerful it is to be up close to someone who is pursuing their passion. My feelings of gratitude increased enormously, because I think I finally feel at a gut level that we, creative people, are all in it together. When one person makes it real, I do believe that our collective creative spirit is fortified. Someone’s success also has the power to remind us that the journey is as much fun as the destination. Since we never know when success or recognition is coming, we might as well have a good time in the immediate moment to moment process of creating. I regret that I spent so much of my late twenties and early thirties being flooded with fears of inadequacy and jealousy at the success of others. What a waste! The good news is that I (we) can choose differently. Instead of envy and jealousy, maybe we can open up to a reminder that many people yearn to make manifest a creative life. Maybe, it’s’ worth our time to ask the people that we see everyday—what creative project are you working on? They are probably having the same ups and downs and joys and struggles that we are. They are probably carrying big, wonderful, crazy creative dreams.
This week, I encourage you to get up close and personal with someone who has accomplished something that you admire or want to achieve creatively for yourself. Tell them what their success means to you. Look into their eyes and tell them how happy you are that they have made their work visible.
If your ego starts preparing for a comparison parade, take a deep breath and remind yourself that the ego’s function is to point out what it thinks is missing in the present moment. Your job is to remind yourself that nothing is truly missing in this moment.
Posted by: micheleberger on: September 18, 2009
A few weeks ago after seeing SARK, I decided to revisit one of my favorite concepts of hers—‘Grudge Island’. In her Bodacious Book of Succulence she talks about the place that many of us reside. You know the place in our consciousness where we replay, repeat, and sift through old hurts, grudges, resentments, and slights? She imagines this place as Grudge Island. All the folks on the island are stooped over from carrying the weight of their grudges.
In my workshops on creativity, I often ask people to verbalize what their Grudge Island looks like, the nature of the grudges and the length that they’ve hung on to them. After reflecting on this exercise, one woman exclaimed, “Goodness, I don’t just visit Grudge Island, I’ve built condos there!”
SARK: “The ego receives great satisfaction by keeping grudges. It allows you to be right and live in the past. … Grudges are companions of struggle and blame. Sometimes we feel it’s better to have their company than none at all, so we continue letting them live and grow.” p.87 (Bodacious Book of Succulence)
So, I decided to sit down and do a little exploring to see what shape my Grudge Island was in. I started out with a few modest pieces of paper and a pen. I thought, oh, this should only take a few minutes. As I got in touch with recent and old hurts and wounds, I found myself reaching for more paper. As I wrote, I began reliving and experiencing the anger, hurt and loss of the events that shaped my grudges. I reached for more paper and also some markers. I enjoyed using a big fat red marker, in particular, because it seemed to match the level of my intense feelings. When I started writing with my non-dominant hand (left), many childhood grudges surfaced.
Now, I pride myself on practicing the art of forgiveness, practicing yoga and meditating everyday. So, it came as a bit of unwelcome surprise that in fact, I was a long time resident on Grudge Island. I continued, however, to follow my feelings, and write every grudge, hurt and slight that came to my mind. My writing got bigger, more intense and even incoherent at times. By the end of the process I had filled 25 pages (front and back) of my grudges and ego wounds!
Here’s a sample:
Grudge against Thor (yes, his name was really that), a young man who told me while I was in grad school that pursing a PhD was meaningless and definitely not going to help my community (15 years ago)
Grudge against my mom who was too poor to send me care packages in college. I desperately wanted the validation and normalcy of a care package. Instead, I often sent care packages to her. (20 years ago)
Grudge against my six grade teacher who forgot to give me the information so that I could compete in the city wide spelling bee (I had won the spelling bee for the school and district). (30 years ago)
Grudge against a foundation for not choosing to fund my excellent proposal. (9 months ago)
You get the drift…
The utility of this exercise is that it allows one to see that we are more than what our egos declare that we should hold onto, pay attention to and enshrine in our memories. We are more than our grudges! I decided that these papers needed to be destroyed. In a mad frenzy, I ripped the papers into teeny tiny shreds which felt incredibly satisfying. I kept ripping and tearing at them for some time. Then, I began to knead them which for some reason also felt incredibly satisfying. I then promptly gathered them all up and dumped the pile in the garbage.
I remembered SARK said that when she purges grudges, she sometimes forgets the original hurts that caused the grudges. After I dumped the grudges, a very calm and peaceful sensation ran through my body. I felt a deep clarity about moving forward. And, I felt less like an ‘angry victim’ of circumstances. I made a plan of things that I wanted to do differently in relation to the people who were still in my life whom I had been holding grudges against. The other grudges of long ago felt gone, as if, they removed by a type of grace. Meaning, I could no longer remember the original incidents that led to my grudge holding. I’m sure that they are somewhere in my consciousness, but I think it would take a lot for me to remember them. I’m also OK if there is some pain associated with something that happened in the past that comes up occasionally. But, I’m not going to actively look for it.
I’ve taken the boat that occasionally visits Grudge Island for those who are ready to leave and begin exploring new vistas. I’m riding in a boat looking at the crystal blue water in the Channel of Present Possibilities.
If you spend way too much time on Grudge Island try writing the grudges down and afterwards purging them by either burning them, tearing them up (and dumping them) or even burying them in a garden.
The more we share about our very human capacity to hold grudges (and what we may get out of it for holding a grudge), the more support we can receive for releasing them and experiencing the joy and vitality that is available to us in every moment.
Posted by: micheleberger on: August 29, 2009
As I shared last week, I went to a SARK workshop. One of the best aspects of the workshop was her reminding us, the participants, to find joy and delight, in support of our creative projects and lives. The great thing about creative energy is that it tends to spill over into other parts of our lives. Indeed, if allowed, creative energy infuses our lives with new problem solving skills and new insights for mapping our everyday lives.
So, I left the workshop on Sunday, happy and inspired. I’m a college professor and this week classes have begun. As I sat down to finish up my syllabus and prepare for the week, it occurred to me that after a decade of teaching, I tend to do some of the same things on ‘the first day of class’. It also occurred to me that I always hand out my syllabi on white paper. Indeed, although I tend to think a great deal about ice-breakers for the class and creative ways to get to know students, I hadn’t ever really thought about how to make the physical appearance of the syllabus more interesting. I was astounded! Me, a writer and creativity coach–not ever thinking about any another color except white for syllabi. Where did I learn this? I’m almost positive that in my many years of schooling, I never received a syllabus on anything but white paper. I would have remembered! It is one of those things that I’m sure no professor even considers. Talk about doing something by rote!
One of my classes this semester is a research inquiry/research methods course. Having taught this class before, I know that students come in with many pre-conceived ideas about how hard it is going to be, or that they lack certain skills, or that it is going to be a painful experience. I always want to shift this perception immediately. Well, I realized that one way to do this was to copy my syllabus on ‘paper of color’. Nothing says fun and creativity than receiving an orange syllabus. So, I went about copying the syllabus on various shades of “paper of color”. I even took the liberty of using different types of color in one syllabus–so some syllabi were all purple, but others had sheets of orange, white and yellow.
I completely delighted myself in this task! I took the syllabi over to the class and handed it out. After introducing myself, I said, “There is good news. This is going to be a fun course. Research is about understanding one’s own passion, curiosity and creativity.” The students loved it and they loved the multicolored syllabi. They too, have never experienced receiving anything but white paper syllabi.
Thinking about why I had always copied my syllabus in a certain way was definitely a spill over from the creative investigating of the workshop. Most often we think that creativity is about particular big projects (finishing the novel, redecorating the house, starting a company). Sometimes it is, but just as often creativity is also about the small, daily ways that we delight ourselves by doing something differently. So, take a few moments and think about the taken-for-granted-tasks that you usually do. Is there a way to infuse more delight or surprise in them?
Do you always write your shopping list on old scrap paper? If so, what about using the inside of a gorgeous card? Or adding stickers? Or putting a favorite quote about food at the top of the list?
What about your answering machine and cellphone outgoing messages? When is the last time that you left a joke, a snippet of a song or a quote? For years, I loved changing my answering machine message. I used it as another creative outlet.
Let the next few days be an investigation in all the small ways that you can delight yourself through small everyday creative expression.
Posted by: micheleberger on: August 22, 2009
This past week, I’ve been reminded just how easy it is for us to be on automatic pilot. You know what I’m talking about, right? Life as routine –I-don’t have to think about what I’m doing, because I’ve done it so many times before. A few days ago, I parked my car much closer to my office than usual. When I was ready to leave late in the day, it wasn’t until I arrived at my usual parking lot that I realized by car wasn’t there. I was so angry at myself. I walked six blocks out of the way.
Yesterday, I attended an ‘interactive book signing and lecture’ with one of my favorite authors-SARK who has written 15 books on creativity. I brought my book (Make Your Creative Dreams Real) of hers to sign. A friend gave it to me years ago as a gift. Well, I opened the back of the book and saw that there was a sticker on it that had my friend’s name on it (from SARK). As I handed SARK the book, I explained my friend had given me this book and there was already something from her in the back of the book. And, so she asked me, “Do you want me to sign your name or your friend’s name?” I replied that I wanted my name signed. She also asked me if I wanted it signed in the back or the front. I replied the front. So, she rifled through a few pages and found a spot. And, lo and behold–there was already an inscription from her in the book! I was so embarrassed and surprised. She just laughed and circled her original quote and wrote something else. To me, this was a prime example of being on automatic pilot–I hadn’t even checked the book out! It also makes me think of how we forget the wonderful gifts that are right under our noses–like the memory of my friend going to trouble of buying this book for me and getting it signed by SARK so many years ago.
So, I’m taking this as another lesson to–slow down and re-engage with my immediate surroundings. The basics–noticing taste, texture, touch, light, sounds, etc. How about you? Are you on automatic pilot? Can you slow down for even 5 minutes? Two minutes? 1 minute? What gift is right under your nose, if you just stop for a moment?
Posted by: micheleberger on: July 1, 2009
In May I talked about the importance of designating creative space in your home. Lately, I‘ve been thinking about the metaphorical spaces that we draw from as creatively minded folks. If in our imaginations, we mark those mysterious places where ideas seem to reside, it’s easier to know the path back to them when we’re lost. I was half listening to an interview on NPR with Booker T, a noted musician (famously known for the instrumental ‘Green Onions’). He was talking about the title of his new CD called ‘Potato Hole’. He said that a potato hole was where he gets and keeps his ideas. Potato Hole? When he talked about the potato hole idea, I sat up and paid more attention. He explained that during slavery, African Americans (and I’m assuming poor whites) didn’t have wood floors in their homes; they had dirt or earthen floors. There was no place to keep vegetables cool. So, enslaved folks dug what they called ‘potato holes’, deep holes in the earth that allowed them to keep vegetables fresh. Potato hole is where he gets fresh ideas from and also keeps other ideas safely tucked away until they are ready. I simply fell in love with this unique description of creative space literally rooted in conditions of struggle. His use of the potato hole honors the creativity of everyday folk long gone.
Even though I’m always cajoling people to ‘think outside the box’, one of my inner creative places that I return to for stimulation is a luminous, golden box filled with light. When I get stuck or afraid, I think about reaching in this great big box of light and pulling out what I need. Stephen King writes about his muse coming up from the cellar bringing him beer. For him, the inner cellar is a place of creativity. I’ve heard other people say that tapping into their creativity is like imagining oneself at a great boisterous dinner party. All you have to do is sit back and listen. What about an inner creative space as a gorgeous tropical island that has an unending supply of chocolate? Well, you get the idea—any inner place that resides in your imagination that excites you counts. Over the next few days you might ask yourself: What is my ‘potato hole’? Where metaphorically do I keep ideas stored?Where do I go in my imagination to connect to my creativity?I hope your answers delight and surprise you.
Posted by: micheleberger on: May 12, 2009
Yesterday was Mother’s Day, always a day that’s a bit hard for me. I lost my mother in 1997 after a long bout with illness. She was the most uncelebrated creative woman that I have ever known. She was responsible for giving me my first ‘creative space’ when I was six years old.
Creative people spend a lot of time thinking about, hunting for and fantasizing about a space that they can call their own. One of the first things that I do with clients is ask “Do you have a creative space for your work?” I receive a range of answers that include ‘that space is now where I fold my kids clothes’ to ‘it’s cluttered’ to ‘There’s no space that I can call my own’.
Designating space for one’s passion is important on a few levels. One, it helps to not have to recreate the wheel every time that you want to work on your short story or that collection of songs. If you have designated space then you can go to it and work. Plain and simple. The second reason why designated space is so vital for one’s creative work is that it also reminds you that you do deserve to do your creative work. Many people do not feel entitled to a creative life. To designate creative space makes your work (and desires) real, visible, and enables you to create from a place of worthiness.
My family lived in New Jersey when I was six. I don’t know if I was exhibiting any special signs of ‘creativeness’. For sure, I was already reading and drawing a lot. But something must have occurred to my mother to encourage her daughter’s creative outlet. She designated a walk-in closet as MY CREATIVE SPACE. I could do anything I want in there. We painted the walls and I filled that room with my drawings, toys paperdolls, etc. More importantly, I was allowed to daydream and do “nothing”. We were living in a rental townhouse and I did not have a room of my own, so I’m sure that this was one way for my mom to allow me some private space. Well, she made it feel special–like nothing else other kids had. I know that spending time in that room pretending, performing and playing was a formative experience for me. In some ways, I feel that I’ve been trying to recreate that place in both my imagination and physical space for some time. When I was a graduate student without a lot of resources, I became a big fan of the ‘creativity altar’. A creativity altar is a great idea for people that don’t have a lot of space or currently can’t designate a a large space for creative work. Your creativity altar can be on top of a dresser or a small table, or even in a drawer. It can be a decorated shoebox! Be willing to start where you are. You can place anything (in)on your creativity altar that will keep you inspired: symbols of creativity, affirmations, pictures, etc.
After finishing graduate school, I moved to Las Vegas and finally had a place of my own. I took a small walk-in closet and designated it my ‘womb room’–a creative healing space. It was painted purple and I hung up lots of dried flowers in the room. I didn’t feel the need to put furniture in the room because I so often wanted to lay down and just daydream (with my journal handy). Now, I have a home office that mirrors my creative cycles and intentions.
What does your creative space look like? Is it outside in a secret garden, in an office in a newly remodeled attic or on the table top of your dresser? Is it in a barn? More importantly, is it serving you creatively when you spend time in it or near it? Have you claimed some special place yet, or are you waiting for permission from someone else?
If you’ve been procrastinating on claiming a personal space, imagine for a moment that you have found a permission slip in your jeans pocket. It was put there a long time ago by your creative guide. Imagine that this permission slip is beautifully written and decorated and is enticing. What would your slip need to say to remind you of your ability and innate worthiness to create? You may want to even write such a permission slip.
If you get stuck and need some help in visualizing how your creative space could look, I highly recommend thumbing through the exquisitely photographed, A Room of Her Own: Women’s Personal Spaces by Chris Casson Madden. She explores thirty-eight delightful rooms created by women for nurturing their creative spirits. This great book was given to me by a dear friend right before I moved to Las Vegas.
Posted by: micheleberger on: May 6, 2009
I had vaguely heard of the 1970s campy cult classic Gray Gardens. That documentary chronicled the decayed lives (physically and metaphorically) of former socialites Edith Bouvier Beale (Big Edie) and her daughter Edie Beale (Little Edie). But, I had never seen the documentary or ever thought about their lives as examples of repressed and frustrated female creativity in the early 20th century. In the recent HBO film, Grey Gardens, Jessica Lange and Drew Barrymore play this dysfunctional mother and daughter duo and provide new insights into what held these women back from giving the world more of their unique vision. The film begins with Little Edie’s late teenage years and tries to fill in the mystery about their lives prior to the 1975 documentary. Drew Barrymore who was the driving force behind bringing their story to light prepared for the role by reading all of Little Edie’s journals and living as a recluse for several months (like the Beale women did for decades). Both actresses give spectacular performances and although I’m sure the story takes some license with the actual facts about the Beale women, they portray complex three-dimensional beings.
The narrative subtheme that really caught my attention was how actively blocked Big Edie was from pursuing her dream of being a singer. She married a wealthy man who wanted her to assume her rightful place (according to gender norms of the 1930s) in the home. He did not want her to sing, dance or talk about her past life as a performer. He wanted her to be a “proper” woman. She tried to explain to him and Little Edie that her singing “was something she liked better than anything else” and that she loved singing and performing ever “since she was born.” Lange’s portrayal of Big Edie as a natural performer and entertainer is compelling.
Big Edie made, what some might call, an unconscious false bargain-protect me and make me secure and I’ll only do my creativity on ‘the side’, or as ‘a little show’, or ‘in the shadows’. In the movie’s presentation of mother daughter dynamics, Big Edie gives mixed messages to her daughter about the possibilities of living a creative life. On the one hand she recognizes, nurtures and indulges her daughter’s creative self, yet constantly makes her dependent on her as the source of fulfillment and protection. Little Edie is creative in many different mediums and dreams of making a life as a dancer and actress. Big Edie tells her daughter that she too, can make a “bargain” for wealth and comfort and do her passion on the side. These are definitely shadow bargains and over the course of the film, we see that they both pay a high price for amputating their creative self for protection (Big Edie says to her daughter ‘Find a man to give you a long leash’), wealth (which runs out after a nasty divorce) and safety. Little Edie retreats into the fantasy world that her mother creates for her instead of finding if she can make her dreams real.
About this archetypal story, I find myself thinking about Clarissa Pinkola Estes’ work on how women make false bargains (with others and themselves) about their creative lives. She uses the fairytales of The Little Match Girl and La Llorona to make her case. In Women Who Run With The Wolves, Estes states:
“A woman must be careful to not allow overresponsibility (or overrespectability) to steal her necessary creative rests, riffs, and raptures. She must simply put her foot down and say no to half of what she believes that she “should” be doing. Art is not meant to be created in stolen moments alone.”
The writers adeptly imply the culture’s limitations on women’s autonomy and self-determination during their lives. It’s hard to imagine what their lives might have looked like if they had been able to resist the culture’s negative messages about creative and ambitious women and their own self-doubts. They were ill-prepared to live an independent life. They had little street-sense (because they were always sheltered and cared for) and they both might have had some mental health issues that could have surfaced while pursing their dreams.
If both of them would have followed their dreams, they might have completely flopped but I think, in the end they would have been happier, less insular and less self-destructive. By the end of the film, Big Edie has metaphorically cannibalized her daughter’s creativity for her own selfish psychological needs; she uses her daughter’s creativity to evade the world and turn inward becoming physically dependent on Little Edie. Although Little Edie never married, she carries on an unconscious false bargain with her mother for decades–sacrificing her dreams and desires to placate her mother’s failed life. It was very hard to be a witness to their cramped lives and the pain in not expressing what they wanted to give to the world. Barrymore effectively conveys the rage of the realization of a false bargain with one’s creativity and a life half-lived.
The ending, however, suggests that although the deep impulses to a creative life can be blocked, thwarted and repressed, they never are completely exterminated. The 1975 documentary and its subsequent success helped launch Little Edie as a underground cult star. She begin her public creative life in her fifties and lived on to finally perform on stage, write poetry and be absolutely fabulous until her death in her early 80s. Knowing that Little Edie was finally able to live out some aspects of her dream to dance, sing and entertain filled me with a deep sense of joy. I’m glad that at least one half of the Beale duo got a taste of creative freedom.
