It has always seemed so unfair that opening to my creative muse immediately whips my judging mind into a frenzy of activity.
For a long while it was a puzzle to me. It didn’t make any sense as to why I would be so crippled by fear and doubt whenever I was inspired to create something, which unfortunately for me happens on a regular basis.
But eventually I started to figure a few things out. I began to notice some patterns.
Bringing something new into the world means going into unfamiliar territory. My creative process is constantly goading me and leading me towards the unknown. It is fascinated by what’s around the next bend and what it hasn’t experienced. It feeds on experimentation. It is an adventurer that thrives on risk and has no interest at all in repeat performances.
Ultimately what it wants is for me to continually grow and change and to express as much of me as I can in the short time I have here on the planet.
And all that gung-ho, let’s just go off willy nilly without a map and a guaranteed outcome energy makes the judging ego mind, which is terrified by anything that it hasn’t done before, go totally bonkers.
It simply doesn’t like strange new things. It’s convinced that any foray into places it hasn’t been before is just plain dangerous. The unmapped world is full of dark alleys and muggers and maybe a touch of bubonic plague thrown in for good measure as far as it is concerned.
And so it tries to stop me. I know, I know. It’s only trying to protect me. It’s trying to keep me safe and in one piece.
You could say that it loves me. I’m actually pretty sure that it does. But it’s the kind of love that wants to keep me so protected that I’m like a bird in a cage, my wings clipped and my freedom to fly seriously curtailed.
If I let it run the show, I would end up leading a very small and unchallenged life, littered with unused potential.
So I keep choosing to live a life propelled by my creative longings. Which means regular run-ins with the inner critic. And predictable periods of time trying to struggle out of fear induced creative stagnation.
The best I can do as I make this sometimes arduous creative journey is be enormously kind to myself. To be as compassionate as possible whenever I find myself lying flat on my back having been pole axed once again by the ego minds latest “tough love” attempts to keep me out of harms way.
And to try and remember that part of me wouldn’t be so fired up unless I was really, really close to something wild and sweet and wonderful that will probably change my life in the best possible way.
Wonderful! Thank you for sharing how you deal with this issue. It’s torn me down to the point where I didn’t even try until I was 45 years-old to do anything creative. Now I am spending every waking moment my body will cooperate with me learning how to paint and draw. I’m positive it has saved my spirit and maybe my physical existence.